The mushroom head began moving toward Amitesh.
His stomach dropped.
"That's impossible…" he whispered. "Is it really this powerful?"
The fungal caps along the creature's shoulders peeled open like rotting petals, releasing a low, vibrating hum. It wasn't sound—it was pressure. The air bent and warped around its body, as if reality itself were struggling to hold shape.
The ghost froze mid-air.
Her head snapped toward the creature, fear flashing across her hollow face.
Then the system came back online.
System: ⚠️ Warning.
*Unknown Variant Detected.
A translucent red panel snapped open in front of Amitesh.
Designation: Special Mushroom Head — Type: Mind Breaker
Threat Level: Unclassified
"Mind Breaker…" Amitesh muttered.
System: This variant does not possess a fixed placed physical core.
Core state: Phase-shifted.
The mushroom head lifted its arm.
Its limb blurred—half solid, half smoke—and passed straight through the ash barrier as if it didn't exist.
Amitesh stepped back instinctively.
System: Primary Ability: Spectral Synchronization.
Secondary Ability: Emotional Echo Manifestation.
The ghost beside him twitched violently, her form distorting.
Amitesh understood.
"So… this one creates illusions," he said under his breath.
System: Hypothesis:
Mind Breaker entities anchor themselves through psychological bonds.
They are neither fast nor physically strong.
They immobilize prey mentally, then approach slowly for termination.
Amitesh clenched his fists, blood mixing with the ash coating his hands.
"If I break," he whispered, "you win."
Suddenly—
A gunshot shattered the silence.
A bullet tore through the mushroom head's skull.
The creature staggered.
Behind Amitesh, footsteps echoed.
Zoey stood there, rifle raised.
"Knew it," she said coldly. "If I slept, you'd die."
Amitesh didn't turn. "I won't."
Flames erupted around his arms, crawling up his skin like living fire. Heat flooded the air as he stepped forward, closing the distance.
He grabbed the mushroom head and burned it alive.
A scream tore through the night—piercing, unnatural, echoing directly inside his head.
The ghost dissolved into ash.
The Mind Breaker writhed, its form unraveling as fire consumed both flesh and illusion.
Amitesh stood his ground, teeth clenched, eyes burning brighter than the flames.
"Not today," he growled.
The night finally went silent.
The fire died slowly.
Not in a blaze, but in exhausted flickers—like a dying heartbeat.
Amitesh staggered back as the last embers faded from his arms. The flames didn't vanish cleanly; they tore themselves away from his skin, leaving behind scorched veins glowing faintly beneath the surface.
He dropped to one knee.
His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.
Zoey rushed forward. "Amitesh—"
"Don't," he said hoarsely. "Just… give me a second."
The ground beneath him was blackened glass now. The air reeked of burned fungus and something worse—burned memories.
His hands trembled violently.
The system flickered again.
System: ⚠️ Warning.
Overuse of elemental manifestation detected.
Mana exhaustion.
System: Thermal backlash active.
Neurological strain: Critical.
Memory bleed detected.
Amitesh squeezed his eyes shut.
He became unconscious.
When he open his eyes.
He was somewhere else—surrounded by screams, fire, and faces he didn't recognize but somehow knew. Each flame he had released had taken something with it. Names. Voices. Fragments of faces.
Darkness swallowed him.
Not sleep.
Not peace.
Amitesh was standing in a place that didn't exist anymore.
The air was thick, heavy, suffocating—like breathing through ash. Firelight flickered around him, casting twisted shadows on cracked walls. Screams echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Help…"
A voice trembled behind him.
He turned.
A man stood there—young, trembling, clutching his head. His eyes were wide, wet with terror, blood trickling from his ears. Black veins crawled up his neck like living things.
"I can hear them," the man whispered. "They won't stop talking."
Amitesh tried to move toward him—
But his feet wouldn't move.
The ground beneath the man's knees softened, turning spongy. Pale growths pushed through the floor, wrapping around his legs like fingers.
"No—no, please—" the man cried.
His scream shattered into dozens of whispers.
Faces appeared around him—people burned, broken, crying. Children. Soldiers. Strangers. All staring at the man.
Their mouths moved in unison.
Remember us.
The man clutched his head harder. "Get out! Get out of my head!"
Something inside him snapped.
His scream stretched, warped, deepened—until it wasn't human anymore.
Amitesh watched in horror as pale fungal caps bloomed from the man's shoulders, from his spine, from his skull—bursting through skin like rotten flowers. His eyes clouded over, glowing faintly.
But he didn't die.
He was still aware.
"I can still feel," the creature whispered, its voice splitting into many. "I can still remember."
The man—no, the Mind Breaker—stood alone in endless darkness.
Figures appeared around him. Ghosts.
Not strangers.
People he failed to save.
People he loved.
They stepped closer, whispering, crying, accusing.
The creature trembled.
"Make it stop," it begged.
The darkness answered.
Break them first.
The fungal caps pulsed.
The ghosts screamed.
And the man disappeared completely—leaving only the monster behind.
A creature that didn't hunt bodies.
A creature that hunted minds.
Amitesh gasped—
And woke up screaming.
Gauri stepped closer, her hand resting firmly on his shoulder.
"Hey… are you okay?" she asked gently.
Her voice cut through the fading echoes in his mind.
"It was just a bad dream," she
continued, a small, reassuring smile forming on her lips. "You're safe now. Wake up. Breakfast is ready."
Amitesh blinked.
The darkness peeled away slowly, like fog burned off by morning light.
The smell of ash was gone.
Instead, there was the faint scent of food—warm, real, comforting. Metal dishes clinked somewhere nearby. Low voices. Life continuing.
He swallowed hard.
"I… fell asleep?" he asked, his voice rough.
Zoey stood a little behind Gauri, arms crossed, eyes sharp but relieved. "You passed out," she said. "Scared the hell out of us."
Amitesh pushed himself up on his elbows. Every muscle screamed in protest, his body heavy like it had been dragged through fire and back.
"How long?" he asked.
Gauri exchanged a glance with Zoey. "Not long," she said carefully. "Long enough."
Amitesh noticed the way she avoided his eyes.
The system flickered faintly in his vision.
System: User consciousness restored.
Status: Unstable.
He exhaled slowly.
"It wasn't just a dream," he murmured.
Gauri's smile faltered for half a second. "Nightmares feel real after fights like that."
"No," Amitesh said, shaking his head. "I saw him. The Mind Breaker. Before he became… that."
Zoey stiffened.
Gauri's hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him. "We'll talk later," she said firmly. "Right now, you need food. And rest."
Amitesh looked up at her.
Her expression was calm, commanding—but beneath it, something else stirred. Worry. Fear.
"Did anyone else see anything?" he asked quietly.
Zoey hesitated. "No."
Gauri straightened. "Come on," she said, offering him a hand. "You can't fight monsters on an empty stomach."
Amitesh took it.
As he stood, a sharp pain flashed through his head—just for a second.
A whisper brushed past his ear.
Remember us.
He froze.
Gauri noticed immediately. "Amitesh?"
"It's nothing," he lied.
The three of them started toward the mess hall as the camp slowly woke up.
Sunlight spilled over the ruined buildings, soft and almost peaceful.
Too peaceful.
As the group sat down to eat, the tension of the night slowly melted into the clatter of plates and the smell of warm food.
Amitesh took a bite, then casually glanced at Rohan… and Riya.
He swallowed.
"Hey, Rohan," Amitesh said calmly. "How old are you?"
Rohan froze mid-bite, as if he'd just been called to the principal's office.
"Thirteen," he replied cautiously.
Amitesh nodded, serious. Too serious.
"You Riya."
Riya:- Ten.
"Hmm. Thirteen," he repeated. "You should be in school. Where's your school bag? Where are your textbooks?"
Rohan blinked. Once. Twice.
"You'll start studying from today," Amitesh added, as if announcing a law of nature.
"HUH?!"
Rohan nearly choked. He slowly turned toward his mother, eyes wide, voice trembling like he was on the edge of a breakdown.
"Mom…" he said, grabbing her sleeve. "Do I really have to study? It's the apocalypse. Shouldn't I be free?"
Riya tried very hard not to laugh.
Priyanka looked from her son to Amitesh, clearly torn. On one side—survival, monsters, the end of the world. On the other—homework.
As a mother, the decision was obvious.
She sighed. "Rohan…"
Rohan's shoulders slumped. "I knew it."
"…finish your breakfast first," Priyanka continued. "Then we'll talk about studying."
Rohan brightened instantly. "See? Apocalypse rules!"
Amitesh raised an eyebrow. "Don't celebrate yet. Apocalypse just means no uniforms, not no exams."
Rohan stared at him in horror.
"sir," he said softly, "you're scarier than the mushroom heads."
"Call me big brother."he said.
Zoey snorted into her food.
Even Gauri couldn't hide her smile.
For the first time that morning, the world felt almost… normal.
Rohan poked at his food suspiciously, as if studying it might already count as studying.
"So," he muttered, "what subject do we start with? Survival Math? Monster Biology?"
Amitesh took another bite, unfazed. "Basic math. If you can't count bullets or ration food, you'll die faster."
Rohan's eyes widened. "Wow. Motivational."
Rohan pushed his plate away dramatically, as if the food itself had betrayed him.
"So," he muttered, "first monsters, then ghosts, and now… math."
"Language arts too," Amitesh added casually. "A strong mind survives longer."
Rohan looked personally attacked.
Riya whispered, "At least math doesn't try to eat you."
"Yet," Amitesh said.
Riya leaned closer to him and whispered, "Told you. He looks calm, but he's evil."
"I heard that," Amitesh said without looking up.
Riya froze. "He hears everything."
Gauri cleared her throat. "Enough terrorizing the children before breakfast digestion."
"I'm not terrorizing," Amitesh replied. "I'm educating."
Priyanka sighed and rubbed her temples. "When the world ended, I thought at least homework would end with it."
Zoey smirked. "Nope. End of the world, same trauma."
Rohan slumped back in his chair. "So what—do we sit in a ruined classroom with broken windows?"
Amitesh nodded thoughtfully. "Good ventilation. Natural lighting. Perfect."
Rohan stared at him in disbelief. "You've planned this, haven't you?"
"Since five minutes ago."
Gauri folded her arms, amused. "Relax. If we can teach soldiers to fight, we can teach a thirteen-year-old to study."
Rohan groaned. "I was happier five minutes ago."
Amitesh stood, stretching slowly. The ache in his body reminded him of the flames, the dream, the whispers—but he pushed it aside.
"After breakfast," he said, "I'll set up a small study schedule. Nothing crazy. One hour a day."
"One hour?!" Rohan squeaked. "That's longer than most battles!"
Zoey smirked. "Welcome to education. It never ends."
Priyanka sighed but nodded. "He does need structure. We can't let the kids grow up knowing only how to survive."
Rohan slumped. "I wanted to grow up knowing how to relax."
Riya giggled. "Does that mean you're our teacher now?"
Amitesh paused. Just for a second.
Something flickered behind his eyes—but he pushed it down.
"Temporary," he said. "Until you're strong enough to teach yourselves."
Gauri studied him quietly. "You're serious about this."
"Yes," he said. "If the world's broken, someone still has to rebuild it."
Rohan groaned dramatically. "Great. I survive mushroom monsters only to die to textbooks."
Priyanka stood up, collecting plates. "Finish eating. Both of you."
Rohan pointed weakly at Amitesh. "He's the real apocalypse."
Amitesh finally smiled—small, tired, but real.He goes near rohan.
Amitesh placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll thank me one day."
Rohan looked up at him seriously. "Will that day also be the apocalypse?"
Amitesh smiled faintly. "Probably."
The morning sun hung low, pale and weak, casting long shadows across the
Amitesh is walking towards a door .
"So," Rohan said miserably, "when does school officially start? Please say never."
Amitesh didn't slow down. "After lunch."
Rohan stopped walking.
"After—what?" His voice cracked. "Sir, I haven't even emotionally recovered from breakfast."
Riya laughed, skipping ahead. "You're doomed."
Priyanka gave Amitesh an apologetic look. "Go easy on him. He's been through enough."
They reached an old storage room near the residential block. Broken windows, cracked walls, a faded board still hanging crookedly on one side.
Amitesh pushed the door open.
Dust swirled in the light.
"Welcome to class," he said.
Rohan stared at the room. "You weren't joking."
"No," Amitesh said. "I rarely joke about anything."
Gauri leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You sure you're fit for this? You collapsed last night."
"I'm fine," Amitesh replied automatically.
Zoey shot him a look that said liar.
Rohan raised his hand. "Sir?"
"Yes."
"Do teachers in the apocalypse still give homework?"
Amitesh thought for a moment. Then, "Only if you survive the lesson."
Rohan whimpered softly.
Amitesh picked up a piece of chalk from the floor, snapping it cleanly between his fingers. As he turned toward the board, his vision blurred—just for a heartbeat.
For a second, the board wasn't empty.
Words appeared on it, scratched deep, uneven:
REMEMBER US
Amitesh froze.
"Sir?" Riya asked. "Why did you stop?"
He blinked.
The board was blank again.
"Nothing," he said quietly. "Just… dust."
He began writing numbers on the board, steadying his hand.
Amitesh tapped the board lightly with the chalk. "Alright. Since this is our first day, we'll skip the basics."
Rohan's head snapped up. "Wait—what?"
"Basic math assumes the world still works normally," Amitesh continued calmly. "It doesn't. So we move ahead."
Rohan looked betrayed.
Amitesh began writing on the board:
Ratios – Estimation – Probability
"This," he said, underlining the words, "keeps you alive."
Riya leaned forward, interested.
"Imagine you have twelve bullets,"
Amitesh said. "Three guards. Unknown number of mushroom heads."
He wrote quickly:
12 bullets / 3 people = 4 bullets each
"But," he added, turning back to them,
"what if one gun jams? What if one person panics?"
He crossed out the neat numbers.
"Real survival math is about estimation, not perfection."
Rohan frowned. "So… math lies?"
Amitesh smiled slightly. "Math prepares you to lie to death."
Zoey muttered, "That's comforting."
Amitesh continued. "Now probability."
He drew three rough shapes on the board—paths branching outward.
"If you take the shortest path, you save time," he said. "But higher probability of ambush."
He marked it with a red X.
"If you take the longer route, you burn calories, but reduce contact."
He circled another path.
"You don't choose what's fastest," he said. "You choose what gives you the highest chance to come back alive."
The room was quiet now.
Even Rohan was listening.
Amitesh wiped the board with his sleeve and wrote:
SCIENCE FOR SURVIVAL
"This isn't school science," he said.
"This is the kind you use when no one's coming to save you."
He picked up a rusted metal bottle from the corner.
"First—water."
He held it up. "Clear doesn't mean safe."
He drew a simple diagram of boiling water.
"Boil it. Always. If you can't, filter it through cloth and charcoal. If it smells sweet or metallic—don't drink it."
Riya raised her hand. "What about rainwater?"
"Safer," Amitesh said, "unless it falls near burning zones. Ash poisons it."
The twins in black hoodies lifted their heads slightly.
Amitesh noticed.
"Fire," he continued, drawing a triangle. "Heat. Fuel. Oxygen."
"Remove one," he said, tapping each side, "and fire dies. Same rule applies when you're trying to control it."
His fingers paused for a fraction of a second.
"Never fight fire when you're exhausted," he added quietly.
Gauri watched him closely.
Amitesh moved on.
"Sound travels farther at night. Light attracts everything. Smell attracts what you don't want."
He looked at the kids. "Survival isn't about strength. It's about awareness."
Rohan slowly raised his hand again.
"Sir…"
"Yes."
"…is this going to be on the exam?"
Amitesh met his eyes. "Yes."
Rohan swallowed. "What happens if we fail?"
Amitesh didn't answer immediately.
Then, softly, "You don't."
Silence settled over the room.
Outside, the wind shifted, brushing against the broken windows.
The twin girls exchanged a glance.
For the first time—
One of them spoke.
"…write that again."
Amitesh turned, surprised.
He nodded and picked up the chalk.
"Of course," he said.
"Alright, guys," Amitesh said, clapping his hands once. "You can go play now. In the next room, there are plenty of toys."
The children froze.
Gauri raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have toys?"
Amitesh replied casually, "I thought I'd break them and remove their parts."
Riya gasped. "You're heartless!"
Amitesh placed a hand on his chest.
"No. Your words just broke my heart."
Riya stared. "…That didn't help."
"Okay, okay," Amitesh waved them off. "Go. Play."
As they ran toward the next room, he added, "In the evening, I'll teach you how to milk a cow."
They stopped instantly.
All their eyes lit up.
"REALLY?!" Rohan shouted.
"Yes," Amitesh said. "Real cow. Real milk."
They disappeared down the hallway, excited voices echoing behind them.
The room finally fell quiet.
Amitesh exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping. "I was really tough on them."
Zoey adjusted her gear. "Told you."
She slung her weapon over her
shoulder. "I'm going for patrol again. You should rest."
"Be careful," Amitesh said.
Zoey nodded and walked out.
The door hadn't fully closed when—
"Amitesh."
Gauri's voice was different now. Serious.
"Come with me."
He followed her without question.
They walked through the corridor until they reached the same room—the one where she had been drunk that night.
Amitesh stopped at the doorway. "Just to be clear, I have no plans to join you for a drink."
Gauri didn't smile. "I have different plans."
They stepped inside.
She closed the door behind them.
Amitesh turned slowly. "Uh… why did you close the door?"
"Sit quietly," Gauri said.
Her tone left no room for argument.
She walked past him and crouched near a storage box pushed against the wall. Opening it, she carefully pulled out a glass jar.
Amitesh's eyes widened.
Inside the jar—
A mushroom.
Not dead.
Not dormant.
Alive.
Its roots pressed against the glass, twisting, striking, struggling as if it could feel the world outside. The faint scratching sound echoed in the room.
It wanted to be free.
Amitesh swallowed. "Gauri…"
The mushroom thrashed harder.
And for just a moment—
He could have sworn it was watching him.
Amitesh eyes wide, with thousands thoughts and questions.