It was close to three in the morning. The entire city was fast asleep. Inside a broken, crumbling house, Dev lay sunk in a deep sleep. One look at the condition of his home was enough to tell anyone how miserable his financial situation was. Some might even say that at this moment, he probably didn't have enough money to buy himself a proper meal.
Suddenly, Dev began to writhe violently in his sleep, as if his entire body were being scorched by fire. Groaning in pain, still trapped inside his dream, he muttered,
"No… my empire. No… I… I… I will take revenge for this."
Before he could say anything more, Dev jolted awake. His entire body was drenched in sweat. Almost immediately, a sharp, unbearable pain surged through his head. Blurry visions began flashing through his mind—scenes he couldn't fully grasp. In one, a massive palace was burning in flames. In the next, he saw a crown—mysterious, divine, and overwhelmingly powerful. Then another scene appeared: he was standing with a girl. She was looking straight at him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see her face.
Dev couldn't endure it anymore. He slammed his head against the wall, and only then did he feel a slight sense of relief. After panting heavily for a while, he began thinking about the words he had spoken in his sleep. Realization hit him, and he muttered in shock,
"What was I saying? What is happening to me? Why do I keep having these dreams again and again? And those visions… a palace, a crown… and that girl. Who was she? What is going on with me?"
At that moment, Dev glanced out through the window of his room. His eyes drifted toward the moon, and he spoke to himself softly,
"This is the seventh time I've had this dream. And every single time, it happens only on a full moon night. Dev, it feels like you should go see a mentalist."
After saying that, he laughed at his own words and added,
"When loneliness grows too much, do people really start talking to themselves like this?"
He sighed.
"Hm… fine, go to sleep now. You have to go to work in the morning. Otherwise, that grumpy old man will scold you again."
With that, Dev lay back down on his bed. But no matter how hard he tried, sleep refused to come. The dream kept replaying in his mind. After drifting through his thoughts for a long time, sleep finally claimed him once again.
At exactly eight in the morning, Dev's eyes opened. The first thing he did was glance at his watch. The moment he saw the time, he shot up in bed and said irritably,
"Shit! I'm late again. That old jerk will threaten to fire me again today. Come on, Dev—get ready for scolding and insults. At this rate, he might actually throw you out of the job today."
With that, Dev hurried to freshen up and reached the work site at exactly nine o'clock.
The moment he arrived, a man stormed toward him, glaring furiously, and snapped,
"Dev, what time were you told to come here?"
Dev lowered his head and replied quietly,
"Eight o'clock."
The middle-aged man sneered and said,
"And right now it's nine o'clock. You're a full hour late. Do you have even the slightest sense of regret? Or why am I even talking about regret? Someone who never had a family to teach him values—who would teach him remorse? You're absolutely useless. A complete good-for-nothing. You should be grateful that I even gave you this job. But you're not worthy of that either. From today onward, I'm cutting five hundred rupees from your salary."
Hearing this, Dev felt a surge of anger. But the moment he heard about the salary cut, he swallowed all his rage. With a mix of helplessness and forced calm, he said,
"Uncle Suresh, I admit I'm late today, and it's true that you gave me this job. But if you cut five hundred rupees from my salary, how will I survive? My salary is already only two thousand rupees. If you want, I'll do extra work today—but please don't cut my pay."
Suresh looked at him with pure contempt and replied coldly,
"Whether you survive or not is none of my concern. If insects like you die in this society, who would even care? You're alone anyway. Who do you even have to call your own? Either work quietly or leave."
When Dev heard such cruel and degrading words being thrown at him, his eyes turned red with anger. But he didn't say a word. Because deep down, Suresh wasn't wrong—if something happened to him, who would care? He truly had no one to call his own. Swallowing all his anger, Dev silently returned to his work.
After an exhausting day, Dev finally returned home at night, completely drained. Just because he was an hour late, he had been forced to do excessive extra work. Suddenly, he sat down on his bed and said to himself in a trembling, broken voice,
"Why am I so alone? Why do I have no one I can call my own? Why? If my existence or non-existence doesn't matter to anyone, then why did God give me this life? Why was I sent into this world?"
As he spoke, tears streamed down his face. Hungry and emotionally shattered, Dev fell asleep just like that.
At exactly three in the night, his eyes opened once again. But when he looked around, he realized he was no longer in his room. He was somewhere else entirely—a dark yet strangely calm place.
Then, a voice echoed in his ears,
"Dev, don't be afraid. You are still within your own consciousness."
Startled, Dev said in shock,
"Who are you? And more importantly—where am I? I can only hear your voice! And what nonsense is this? How can I be inside my own consciousness?"
Where had Dev gone?
Whose voice was that?
Had Dev been kidnapped?
To find out, keep reading — FORGOTTEN EMPEROR