..
..
"Krish?"
In the middle of a dark room, only two figures could be seen.
One was a little boy.The other was a woman with black hair.
She sat beside him, a book resting in her hand, while the boy's eyelids drooped with sleep.
"Sleep, my little boy," the woman whispered, gently fastening the bedsheet around him.
"Mother?"Just before drifting off, the boy called out once more.
"Hm?"She looked down at him with affectionate eyes.
"You used to mention magic, right?"
A hint of surprise crossed the woman's face.
"Yes?" she replied softly.
"Does it really exist?"
The boy's question lingered in the air.
Normally, any mother would answer yes or no outwardly—while battling doubts within herself.
But the woman only smiled, confident and calm, as if she knew completely.
"My boy," she said, "do you know science?"
"Yes! I know it!"
The boy nodded eagerly.
"Then magic exists as well."
The boy wanted to ask more—many more questions—but he stayed quiet, listening to her voice.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her words were suddenly replaced by a sharp alarm.
"Huh…? Mother?"
The boy tried to speak, but the sound only grew louder.
He tried to scream—
And then—
He woke up.
Krish sat upright, his breath uneven.
"Mother?" he called out.
No reply.
He looked around.
Clothes lay scattered across the floor. Shelves stood half-open. Papers and tools were piled everywhere.
If one were to describe the room in a single word, it would be: mess.
Krish glanced at the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him was no longer that of a child, but an adult, wearing nothing but shorts, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
He slowly raised a hand and rubbed his face.
"There's no way you'd still be alive, Mother," he muttered."You left me when I was nine."
His jaw clenched.
Then, as if releasing the tension, he exhaled and relaxed.
He wiped the moisture from his eyes.
Pushing aside the blanket, Krish placed his feet on the cold floor and stood.
In a rush of motion, he gathered the scattered clothes, tossed them into the laundry, and restored a semblance of order to the room.
Then he headed into the shower.
Later, as he stepped outside, a folded newspaper smacked him square in the face.
"Sorry!" the paperboy shouted, stopping abruptly.
Krish waved him off and began skimming through the pages, searching for anything remotely interesting.
"Hm?"
His phone vibrated.
He reached for it while still reading.
"YOOO! KRISH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
A scream—no, a full-blown shout.
Krish winced and pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder.
"Lower your voice, idiot. It's morning."
"So what?" Ari snapped. "Morning, noon, midnight—you're always holed up in that cave of yours. I was just checking if you're alive or already dead in that hole."
"..^-^💢.."
"What are you doing?" Ari asked.
"Reading," Krish replied flatly. "And thinking about not listening to you."
There was a brief pause.
"…You're doing that thing again, aren't you?" Ari said, his tone dropping."Locking yourself in. Living off tutoring kids and fixing scrap machines. Let me guess—you're reading tech articles again."
Krish nearly choked.
"Wait—did I get that right?"Ari burst into laughter.
Krish felt his annoyance spike.
"Krish," Ari continued, his voice turning serious, "you can't live like this. You need to snap out of it."
"Nikhil," Krish said sharply, "did you call just to nag me for being a shut-in?"
"…No," Ari replied after a pause. "I'm just concerned. Sorry—I didn't mean anything bad."
"Then tell me. Why did you call?"
"Now we're talking," Ari said. "Let's hang out. Just the two of us."
"No."
The reply was instant."I'm tired."
"Hey! Don't be like that. If you ditch me now, I'll be in deep trouble."
"That's not my problem."
"Like hell it isn't!💢" Ari snapped. "We're friends, you dumbass."
Krish adjusted the phone in his hand. "I don't feel like going out."
"Of course you don't," Ari said. "If you stay alone long enough, you can pretend the world doesn't exist."
Krish's grip tightened.
"Listen," Ari went on, half-pleading, half-scolding,"Just come out. Eat something decent. Breathe fresh air. You don't even have to talk—just be there."
"I said no."
"Krish."
"…No.💢"
"KrISH."
Krish exhaled sharply."Why are you so persistent?"
"Because if I don't drag you out," Ari said bluntly,
"You'll rot in that room. And I refuse to see the news saying my friend died rotting alone."
Silence.
Krish looked at his reflection again—tired eyes, damp hair, a face far older than it should've been.
"…Where?" he finally asked.
ari's voice instantly brightened."See? That wasn't so hard. Café near the station. Twenty minutes."
"I'm not staying long."
"Sure, sure," Nikhil replied. "Just get over here."
The call ended.
Krish stood still, phone hanging loosely in his hand.
"…Annoying," he muttered.
Still, he walked toward the wardrobe.
He pulled on a dark hoodie, the familiar weight settling over his shoulders, and tugged the hood low over his face. Grabbing his keys, he locked the apartment behind him.
On his way down, he passed a room filled with computers—more like a workshop than a home.
He saved his work and shut the power off.
As he stepped outside into the morning light, he murmured almost unconsciously—
"…Magic, huh. If possible, I'd like magic that lets me vanish from this lonely world."
The words lingered in his mind as he disappeared into the crowd.
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End of Prologue 1
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