Two days later.
A small town in North Bengal. Its name—Chandrapur.
As soon as Arko got off the local train, he froze.
This was the place from his dream.
The same old platform, broken benches, rusted signboard.
But something felt strange—the station was nearly empty. Only a few people were around, and none of them seemed to notice him.
He walked into the station master's room.
An elderly man sat inside, sipping tea.
"Excuse me… was this station closed before?" Arko asked.
The old man looked at him and stayed silent for a moment.
Then he asked slowly,
"Why have you come here?"
"I… I kept seeing it in a dream…"
The old man's eyes sharpened.
"Someone was calling you in that dream?"
Arko went still.
"Yes… how did you know?"
The old man turned his gaze toward the window.