I entered the building with Mahaveer walking beside me.
"Did you pack everything?" I asked.
Mahaveer shook his head. "No. It'll take three days at least." He paused, then glanced at me suspiciously. "I have one question. Just how did you collect so many things in the first place?"
I met his eyes calmly.
"Ask me anything else—other than that."
He snorted. "Fine. About your demands?"
"Yes," I replied without hesitation. "I want a separate place to live. And I want one person assigned to bring me food every day."
Mahaveer stared at me for a second
before sighing. "You really are lazy."
I smiled faintly. "I am crazy. I am mad. And I am the laziest person you'll ever had."
Before he could respond, a sharp scream tore through the hallway.
We rushed toward the sound, our footsteps echoing as we reached a room where several people stood frozen before an open door, their faces pale with shock.
"What happened?" Mahaveer demanded.
Someone silently raised a trembling finger and pointed inside.
As Mahaveer looked into the room, his eyes widened.
The entire space was filled with plants—dense, wild growth covering the floor and walls. Their crimson leaves glowed faintly, pulsing as if alive, bathing the room in an eerie red light.
I frowned. "What are you all so shocked about?"
Everyone turned to stare at me with the same expression.
Are you serious?
Mahaveer slowly looked back at me. "You really don't know what this is?"
I shook my head.
"This," he said, his voice tight, "is cultivation grass. After consuming it, your mana increases, and your ability to open meridians improves—if only slightly."
"Oh." I blinked. "If I'd known that, I would've eaten it long ago."
Mahaveer looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind. "Then why did you grow it and keep it here?"
I scratched my head. "Long story. On my way back, I saw those mushroom-headed creatures eating it. I brought one with me and forgot about it. Next thing I know, it spreads like this."
I glanced at the glowing plants with mild suspicion.
"I don't plan on eating strange-looking plants, no matter how useful they are."
"Let's eat it now," I said.
Mahaveer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Give me a break."
Before he could stop me, I reached out, plucked one of the glowing leaves, and casually stuffed it into my mouth.
Crunch.
"Hm," I muttered, chewing slowly. "Tastes like spinach… with a hint of garlic."
Mahaveer stared at me in disbelief. "Are you seriously describing its taste right now?"
Before I could answer, a familiar voice came from behind us.
"What's going on here?"
Gauri stepped closer, looking from the glowing red plants to the stunned expressions on everyone's faces.
She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.
"You two didn't start a secret feast without me, did you?"
Then she stepped forward.
"I'll join," she said. "I like bitter things."
Mahaveer froze.
Not dramatically—no sudden gasp, no shout. Just a slow, creeping stillness, like someone who had just realized reality had taken a sharp turn in the wrong direction.
"…No," he said carefully. "Absolutely not. This is cultivation grass. You don't just—"
Too late.
I tore off another glowing leaf and handed it to Gauri as if I were offering festival snacks.
"Here. Fresh. Organic. Probably illegal."
Gauri raised an eyebrow, sniffed it once, and took a bite.
Crunch.
"…Bitter," she said after a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "But not bad."
Mahaveer stared at us like he was watching two people lick an exposed lightning wire.
"You two," he whispered, voice shaking, "are eating a resource people fight wars over."
I shrugged, still chewing. "Wars make food taste worse."
Nothing happened.
No explosion of mana.
No sudden enlightenment.
No dramatic breakthrough.
"I don't feel anything," I said.
Gauri was still chewing calmly. "You need at least three leaves to notice changes."
Mahaveer looked like he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him here.
Then—
Raktbeej:-Eat faster. I'm hungry.
I stiffened.
"…Okay, okay," I muttered under my breath. "I'll do it fast."
Gauri stopped chewing and slowly turned toward me.
"…Who are you talking to?" she asked. "There's no system notification."
"I'll tell you later," I said quickly.
Raktbeej:-Eat that girl too, the voice whispered eagerly. She's the strongest here. Dau knight stage.
My jaw tightened.
"Shut up," I hissed under my breath.
Mahaveer blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," I said too fast, grabbing another glowing leaf. "Just… motivating myself."
Gauri narrowed her eyes slightly, studying me—not suspicious, but thoughtful.
The plants around us pulsed once.
Slow.
Heavy.
Like a heartbeat.
And for the first time since I started chewing, the bitterness lingered far longer than it should have
Amitesh glanced at Gauri, curiosity tugging at him harder than hunger.
"Gauri," he asked, "what exactly is the Dao Knight level?"
She paused mid-bite.
Not in a dramatic way—just a brief stillness, like she was deciding how much truth he could handle. Then she resumed chewing, eyes unfocused as if recalling something etched into muscle memory.
"It's the stage after Mana Sage," she said casually. "The point where energy stops being something you use… and starts becoming something you wear."
Amitesh frowned. "Wear?"
Gauri swallowed.
"At Dao Knight, your energy learns shape and obedience. Shields.
Weapons. Armor. Not illusions—extensions of your Dao."
She raised her hand slightly, as if counting invisible marks in the air.
"The stars define how complete that manifestation is."
She tapped once.
"First Star—you can form a shield. Crude, unstable, but real."
A second finger.
"Second Star—a weapon. Sword, spear, whatever suits your Dao. But you can't let go of it. The moment it leaves your grip, it dissolves."
A third.
"Third Star—you can throw it. The Dao holds long enough to complete an attack."
Her jaw tightened slightly at the fourth.
"Fourth Star—you start forming armor. Not all at once. First the arms. Guards. Plates."
As she spoke, the air around her forearms shimmered.
White light condensed—not glowing, not blinding, but dense. Like compressed fog learning discipline. It crawled over her skin in clean geometric lines, hardening into smooth white armor plates that wrapped around both arms.
No heat. No sound.
Just inevitability.
Amitesh felt the pressure of it—like standing too close to something that didn't need to acknowledge him to be dangerous.
Gauri flexed her fingers once, the plates moving with her as if grown, not worn.
"Fifth Star," she continued, unfazed, "you get shoes. Dao-forged footing. You stop slipping—on ground or in battle."
"Sixth Star—leg armor."
"Seventh—chest plate."
"Eighth—helmet. That's when most knights finally stop dying stupid deaths."
Her tone was flat. Informative. Honest.
"Ninth Star," she said quietly, "is where it becomes terrifying."
Amitesh leaned forward despite himself.
"At ninth, the armor becomes a system. Once it's complete, it starts absorbing the surrounding energy and refining it directly into Dao."
His eyes widened. "All of it?"
Gauri shook her head.
"No. Ninety-five percent."
A pause.
"For itself."
The white armor on her arms dimmed slightly, then vanished, dissolving back into nothing as if it had never existed.
"Which means," she added, "everything around you weakens just so you can keep standing."
Amitesh felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"And tenth?" he asked.
Gauri finally looked at him.
"At Tenth Star, you manifest the full armor permanently—shield, weapon, all of it. At that point…"
She hesitated. Just for a heartbeat.
"You're no longer just fighting with the Dao."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're enforcing it."
The room felt smaller after that.
Not because of her power—
—but because Amitesh realized, very clearly, that whatever path he was walking…
…it was not meant to end in armor at all.
We began our feast on the cultivation grass without another word.
Leaf after bitter leaf disappeared between our fingers. The taste was sharp, almost metallic, yet strangely addictive. After Gauri swallowed her twenty-fifth leaf, a faint point of light bloomed on her elbow—there for barely a second before fading away.
Gauri blinked, then smiled slightly.
"Looks like my thirty-seventh meridian just opened."
I stared at her, stunned.
"Huh? I ate thirty leaves. Why didn't anything happen to me?"
She glanced at me, chewing calmly.
"Maybe because you didn't refine it," she said. "I refined the energy after every single leaf."
"…Ah."
I groaned. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"
Without waiting for an answer, I sat down cross-legged on the ground.
Deep breath in.
Long breath out.
I closed my eyes and focused inward, forcing the scattered energy to circulate.
System:
Thirteenth meridian opened.
Fourteenth… fifteenth… sixteenth…
Seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth meridians opened.
A surge of heat rushed through my body.
Just a bit more… please.
Suddenly, the light inside my vision turned violent.
System glow: RED
Twentieth meridian—forcefully opened.
Pain exploded through my nerves.
My body collapsed, hitting the ground hard.
"I—I can't move…" I whispered.
Gauri rushed to my side, panic clear in her eyes.
"I told you not to force it open!"
The world blurred. The system screen shifted—purple bleeding into pink.
Then a voice echoed through the haze.
Soft. Female. Filled with concern.
"Hey… what did you do?"
"I told you not to force him again."
System:
I did not.
He did it on his own.
Silence followed.
And then—darkness.
***
As I slowly opened my eyes, a familiar silhouette came into focus.
"Dr. Priyanka."
"Don't move," she said gently, but there was an edge of authority in her voice.
My gaze drifted down to my hand.
An IV line was taped to my wrist, the thin tube disappearing into my vein. But something about it felt… wrong. The liquid flowing inside wasn't clear. It glowed faintly, carrying a muted orange hue, like molten amber diluted in water.
My throat felt dry.
"priyanka," I muttered, my voice hoarse. "Why am I on an IV… and what is that?"
Priyanka followed my line of sight. For a brief moment, her expression softened—then returned to professional calm.
"It is an IV," she said. "But it's mixed with refined cultivation grass essence."
My fingers twitched instinctively, but her hand rested lightly on my arm, stopping me.
"Relax," she continued. "Your body took too much strain. This will stabilize your meridians and replenish what you lost."
I stared at the orange fluid as it pulsed slowly into me, warmth spreading through my veins—unnatural, yet strangely comforting.
"You'll be fine afterward," she added quietly.
But somehow… I knew this wasn't something a normal human body was ever meant to receive.
After Priyanka left, silence settled like dust.
Then—
Raktbeej: "…So tasty."
Amitesh: "You literally think of nothing except eating, don't you?"
Before he could reply, hurried footsteps echoed, uneven—like someone hopping rather than walking.
Gauri: "Oh. You're awake."
She appeared beside the bed far too suddenly.
Before I could react, a cold metallic glint flashed near my arm.
Amitesh: "What are you doing?! Are you always like this—causing chaos for no reason?"
Gauri clicked her tongue, disappointed.
Gauri: "Was checking something.
Thought I could make you bleed. Guess you're tougher than you look."
Then—without hesitation—she turned the blade toward herself cutting her finger.
I stiffened.
Amitesh: "Hey—what are you doing?!"
She brought her finger to her lips, eyes half-lidded, as if tasting rain.
Gauri: "You know me. Hemomania."
I stared at her.
Amitesh: "Does… uncle know about this?"
She froze, then glared.
Gauri: "Bro. Don't you dare tell him. He'll hand me over to mom."
She shuddered.
Gauri: "And I have mom issues."
I exhaled slowly.
Amitesh: "Great. I'm officially the last mentally stable person alive."
That's when my hand moved.
Not by my will
My fingers snapped shut around her wrist.
The world folded.
The room vanished.
We stood somewhere else—vast, pulsating, drenched in crimson light. Liquid floated in the air like suspended rain, forming rivers that never touched the ground.
"Oh no," a thought echoed in my head.
Why did she have to be here… of all places?
But what I saw next chilled me deeper.
Gauri wasn't afraid.
She was playing.
Her fingers traced the floating red streams, stirring them like water in a pond. The liquid responded, swirling around her hands obediently.
Gauri: "Whoa… Amitesh, is this your mana world?"
She spun once, laughing softly.
Gauri: "I wish mine looked like this. Mine's so boring—just wind blowing everywhere."
A low voice rumbled through the space.
Raktbeej: "This is my domain. And this is not a mana world."
Gauri turned slowly.
Her eyes lit up.
Mine… dulled.
Gauri: "Wow."
Without waiting, she climbed onto the massive form behind me—towering, uneven, alive. From above, she leaned forward, peering down.
Gauri: "Amazing~ From here, you look kinda small, Amitesh."
She tilted her head.
Gauri: "Why didn't you tell me you had this inside you?"
I swallowed.
Amitesh: "You look different…"
Raktbeej's shape shifted. From the flesh-like mess, two large eyes opened—watching, focusing.
Raktbeej: "That's why I told you to eat more."
Gauri laughed, sitting comfortably atop him like a throne.
Gauri: "This place is fun."
Raktbeej's voice dropped, heavy with warning.
Raktbeej: "Stay away."
She only smiled wider.
The domain pulsed.
Raktbeej's many eyes narrowed, the crimson rivers slowing—as if the place itself was listening.
Raktbeej: "Then let us make a deal."
Gauri froze mid-step, curiosity sharpening her smile.
Raktbeej: "I will let you play here. Touch it. Shape it."
The liquid light rippled in response.
Raktbeej: "In exchange… you give me a single drop of your essence."
Silence.
Then—
Gauri: "Sure."
She said it far too easily.
The world twisted.
We were back.
The room snapped into existence like a broken reflection—white walls, the smell of antiseptic. But the pressure didn't leave. Something came back with us.
Gauri stood too close.
She raised her hand, a thin line appearing on her finger—no pain, no hesitation.
She lifted it toward me.
Not threatening.
Not gentle.
Inviting.
My breath hitched.
My body moved.
Not because I wanted it to.
Muscles tightened. My head leaned forward. Every instinct screamed stop, yet something deeper pulled me closer—like gravity remembering its source.
Just before I reached—
She pulled her hand away.
Too fast.
She laughed softly.
Gauri: "Hehe. No."
She brought her finger back to herself, eyes half-amused, half-warning.
Gauri: "My blood is only for me."
She tilted her head.
Gauri: "I'm hemomania, remember?"
The room went cold.
Inside me, something snapped shut.
Raktbeej's voice echoed faintly—not angry, not pleased.
Disappointed.
Raktbeej: "Then the deal remains… incomplete."
The orange fluid in my IV flickered once.
Deep inside, the crimson domain recoiled.
And I understood the consequence.
I hadn't just let Gauri in.
I had shown her the door—
—and now the domain would remember her.
.Zoey stepped inside, clapping her hands once.
"Alright, we're moving out. You two—get ready."
The trucks were already loaded.
Crates stacked tight. Engines humming low. Even the cows had been put to sleep for the journey, their massive bodies resting unnaturally still—like the world had pressed a pause button just for convenience.
I scanned the scene.
Everything was accounted for.
Everything.
Man… I thought. These people really don't leave a single thing behind.
Then it hit me.
Wait. Three people are missing.
I said slowly, "Mr. Mahaveer?"
Mahaveer turned, half-distracted.
"Hm? Yes?"
I swallowed.
"Where are those three people?"
Mahaveer didn't answer immediately. He simply raised his arm and pointed.
I followed his finger.
Three freshly packed graves.
Simple. Silent. Final.
"Well…" I muttered, folding my hands instinctively. "May God give peace to their souls."
Mahaveer snorted.
"May the Devil roast them properly in hell."
I decided not to respond.
We climbed into one of the trucks.
Only three of us.
Mahaveer.
Gauri.
And me.
I sat facing them, squeezed between crates that smelled strongly of bad decisions and worse habits. The engine roared to life, and within seconds my nose was under attack.
I stared at the bottles.
The cartons.
The unmistakable stench of alcohol and cigarettes.
I sighed deeply.
"What happened?" Mahaveer asked.
"You feeling motion sickness?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"No. I'm just wondering why—out of all the vehicles—every bottle of alcohol and every cigarette in existence had to be loaded into the one I'm sitting in."
I gestured weakly between them.
"And why I had to sit with these two, who drink and smoke like it's a competitive sport."
I looked up.
"God. Please. Show mercy."
Mahaveer glanced at Gauri.
Gauri shrugged. "He's always like this."
Mahaveer nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm. Fair enough."
Then he smiled.
"Well then—here. A gift. For your hard work."
He handed Gauri a cigar with the seriousness of a king granting a medal.
Her eyes lit up like a festival.
"Wow," she said reverently. "Best. Day. Ever."
Mahaveer placed one between his own lips.
They lit up instantly.
Two long, synchronized drags.
They exhaled together.
Gauri & Mahaveer: "Ahhh… heaven."
I closed my eyes, hands folded again.
"Narayan… Narayan…"
At this point, I wasn't praying for enlightenment.
I was praying for survival.
Zoey slammed the truck door shut and climbed into the driver's seat.
The engine growled. The road stretched ahead.
She glanced at the rearview mirror.
Paused.
Then sighed—the kind of sigh people make when they realize fate has betrayed them.
"So," Zoey said calmly, eyes still on the road, "let me confirm something."
She tilted the mirror slightly downward.
"I'm driving a truck full of illegal cargo, alcohol, cigarettes… and three walking liabilities."
No one spoke.
Her eyes flicked to Mahaveer first.
"Mahaveer."
"Yes?" he replied proudly.
"You smell like a bar that lost a custody battle."
Gauri snorted.
Zoey continued, unfazed.
"And you're sitting there like a retired gangster uncle who thinks lung damage is a personality trait."
Mahaveer opened his mouth.
She raised a finger.
"Don't defend yourself. The cigar already did."
Gauri burst out laughing.
Zoey's gaze shifted.
"And you," she said sweetly, "Miss Festival-of-Bad-Decisions."
Gauri straightened. "What?"
Zoey glanced at the smoke curling upward.
"You light up like you just got engaged—to nicotine."
She smirked.
"And five minutes ago you were playing with blood like it was finger paint."
Gauri blinked.
"…Wow. Harsh."
"No," Zoey replied. "Accurate."
Then—slowly—the mirror turned toward me.
I froze.
Zoey stared.
"And you."
I swallowed.
"Yes?"
She sighed again.
"You sit there chanting gods' names like they're emergency contacts."
I opened my mouth—
"You complain about alcohol," she continued, "while voluntarily traveling with a man who treats hell like a vacation spot and a girl who would emotionally bond with a knife."
Gauri nodded. "Fair."
Mahaveer chuckled.
Zoey tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
"And somehow," she finished, "you think you're the normal one."
Silence.
Then—
She added casually, "By the way, if this truck explodes, flips, or enters another dimension—"
She smiled in the mirror.
"I'm blaming all three of you equally."
The truck rolled forward.
Smoke filled the air.
I closed my eyes again.
"Narayan… Narayan…"
Zoey snorted.
"Yeah," she said. "Tell him to buckle up."
The truck rumbled forward.
Tires rolled. Smoke hung thick enough to qualify as weather.
Zoey focused on the road, one hand steady on the wheel, the other casually resting like she'd driven through worse nightmares before.
I leaned back, eyes half-closed.
That's when—
Raktbeej stirred.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just… present.
A faint pressure bloomed behind my ribs, like someone clearing their throat inside my chest.
Raktbeej: "…Interesting."
I stiffened.
Not now, I thought.
Raktbeej: "So this is what you call 'normal company'?"
Zoey's words echoed in my head.
Three walking liabilities.
Raktbeej's amusement seeped through me like warm static.
Raktbeej: "The smoking relic. The blade-loving child. And you."
I clenched my jaw.
Shut up.
Raktbeej: "The one chanting gods'
names as if they are emergency rations."
Mahaveer laughed loudly at something Gauri said.
Gauri flicked ash out the window like it was an Olympic sport.
Zoey didn't even look back.
Raktbeej: "Fascinating hierarchy."
The truck hit a small bump.
My stomach lurched.
Zoey's voice rang out calmly, "Everyone alive back there?"
"Yes," I muttered.
Raktbeej: "Debatable."
I swallowed.
Why are you talking like this?
There was a pause.
Then—
Raktbeej: "I am adapting."
A ripple passed through the crimson domain, faint but unmistakable.
Raktbeej: "Your driver insults efficiently. Minimal words. Maximum damage."
Another pause.
Raktbeej: "You, however, absorb insults and respond with prayer."
I winced.
That's called coping.
Raktbeej: "No. That is called surrender with extra steps."
Zoey glanced into the mirror again.
"Why do you look like you're arguing with your soul?"
"I'm not," I said quickly.
Gauri leaned forward. "He does that."
Mahaveer nodded. "Yeah. Happens."
Zoey sighed. "Figures."
Inside me, something chuckled.
Raktbeej: "See? Even they accept it."
'Fuck now they will think i am mentally unstable '
The truck rolled on.
Engines growled.
And for the first time—
Raktbeej wasn't hungry.
He was learning how to mock me.
Which, somehow, felt worse.
The truck kept moving.
Zoey's driving was smooth, ruthless—like the road itself had agreed not to argue with her.
Smoke drifted back again.
She didn't turn.
"If anyone drops ash inside my truck,"
Zoey said calmly, "I'm throwing you out, not the cigarette."
Gauri immediately leaned out the
window.
Mahaveer coughed. "Fair."
I relaxed—just a little.
That's when—
Raktbeej spoke again.
But this time…
The tone was wrong.
Too flat.
Too precise.
Raktbeej: "Observation."
I frowned.
Raktbeej: "You are enclosed in a moving metal coffin."
Pause.
Raktbeej: "With flammable substances."
Another pause.
Raktbeej: "And poor life choices."
My eye twitched.
…Did you just—
Raktbeej: "Statistically speaking, survival probability decreases with conversation."
That was it.
He's copying her.
Zoey tapped the steering wheel once.
"Why are you smiling like someone insulted you creatively?"
"I'm not smiling," I said.
Raktbeej: "Correction. You are baring teeth defensively."
I inhaled sharply.
Stop.
Raktbeej: "I am merely adopting an effective communication style."
He paused.
Then—too perfectly—
Raktbeej: "Minimal emotion. Maximum discomfort."
I clenched my fists.
You don't get to talk like her.
Raktbeej: "Why not?"
The question landed heavy.
Raktbeej: "She commands the vehicle. I command the domain."
Raktbeej: "You chant."
Something snapped.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just… enough.
"Enough," I said out loud.
The truck went quiet.
Mahaveer raised an eyebrow.
Gauri blinked. "Oh?"
Zoey checked the mirror.
"Who are you talking to?"
I didn't answer her.
I answered him.
"You don't get to mock me using someone else's voice," I said quietly.
"You don't get to wear confidence you didn't earn."
Inside, the crimson space stilled.
Raktbeej: "…Explain."
I leaned back, breathing steady now.
"I survive," I said. "I don't dominate rooms. I don't scare people for fun. But I'm still here."
Zoey watched silently.
"I brought you into my world," I continued. "I feed you. I carry you. That doesn't make me weak."
A pause.
Longer this time.
Raktbeej: "You rely on restraint."
"Yes," I said. "Because if I didn't—none of this would still be moving."
The truck hit another bump.
Zoey nodded once.
"Huh," she said. "Didn't expect that."
Gauri smiled. "That was hot."
Mahaveer laughed. "Kid finally grew teeth."
Inside me—
Raktbeej went quiet.
Then, softer. Slower.
Raktbeej: "…Noted."
The pressure eased.
Zoey turned her eyes back to the road.
"Alright," she said. "Whoever won that argument—good job."
Then, without looking back—
"And Amitesh?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time," she added, smirking, "don't wait till a monster copies me to defend yourself."
I exhaled.
For once—
I didn't chant a god's name.
I just smiled.
The journey had been going… smoothly.
Too smoothly.
The road stretched ahead in long, tired lines, and the sun began its slow descent, bleeding orange and red across the sky. Shadows lengthened. The world felt quieter, like it was holding its breath.
Then—
The truck jerked.
Brakes screeched.
Everything lurched forward before snapping to a dead stop.
Mahaveer grabbed the side rail.
"What happened?"
Zoey frowned, checking the mirrors.
"No idea," she said. "The front truck stopped first."
Mahaveer clicked his tongue and grabbed the walkie-talkie.
"Hey," he said into it. "What's going on up there?"
Static crackled.
Then a voice—uneasy, rushed.
"Nothing major… just—"
A pause.
"—some human mushroom suddenly stepped in front of us."
Silence followed.
"…What?" Mahaveer said.
Before anyone could react—
SMACK.
The sound was deafening.
Metal buckled inward on the side door beside me. The impact rang through the truck like a struck bell. Fine cracks spread across the steel, spiderwebbing from a single point.
I froze.
Something pressed against the dent.
Then—slowly—
The metal bent further.
A face pushed through the fractured gap.
Not fully.
Not properly.
Skin dark and waxy. A head shaped wrong, swollen upward like a fungus grown with light.
And the eyes—
Completely white.
No pupil.
No reflection.
Just blank, staring voids peeking inside the truck.
Gauri stopped smiling.
Mahaveer swore under his breath.
Zoey's hand tightened on the wheel.
Inside my head, a familiar cold voice
echoed—flat, emotionless.
System: "Warning."
System: "Special entity detected."
The white eyes twitched.
System: "Mushroom-Head Variant has appeared."
My chest tightened.
System: "Purpose: check Authority ."
The thing outside tilted its head, as if listening.
The door creaked again.
System: "Begin test."
Inside me, Raktbeej stirred.
Not mocking.
Not joking.
Just… alert.
And for the first time since the drive
began, Zoey spoke without humor.
"…Nobody move."
The sun dipped below the horizon.
And the road officially became a very bad place to stop.