The seed lay at Rohan's feet,
glowing faint blue,
its surface pulsing like something alive inside it.
He didn't move.
He didn't blink.
The silence in the room
felt thicker than the walls.
He whispered to himself:
"I'm not touching it…
I'm not—"
The seed pulsed again.
THUMP.
(closer)
THUMP.
(stronger)
THUMP.
(as if echoing inside his chest)
Rohan swallowed hard.
The seed felt like it was breathing
in the same rhythm as him.
As if it had synced with him.
"No… no, this is wrong…"
The Orchard Reaches Out
A sudden gust of cold
swept across the room.
Not wind—
but something else.
The same force
that pulled him toward the orchard every night.
The silence pressed in,
a strong invisible weight.
A whisper without sound
pushed into his mind:
"…pick it up…"
Rohan shook his head violently.
"No."
The message came again,
stronger.
"…pick it up…"
His knees weakened.
He could feel something
reaching through the silence,
trying to control him.
"Stop!"
His voice cracked.
"I said—"
The seed vibrated,
and a shock of cold climbed up his leg.
Rohan stumbled backwards.
Shruti Appears—But Not Alone
Mist formed instantly,
this time faster
and more violent than before.
Shruti's red silhouette appeared—
but she wasn't stable.
Her outline shook
like the orchard was trying to rip her apart.
"Shruti—!"
Rohan stepped forward.
She held up a trembling hand—
warning him not to move.
A silent message struck him:
"…you must not obey its call…"
Rohan pointed at the seed.
"It wants me to pick it up!
Why me?!"
Shruti's form flickered like weak light.
Her next message came slow,
heavy—
as if every word hurt her:
"…because you can hear the silence…
and it needs a voice…"
Rohan's blood ran cold.
"Voice?
My voice?
For what!?"
The mist behind Shruti darkened,
forming shapes.
Shadows.
Human silhouettes.
Silent, empty, watching.
Shruti turned slightly—
as if the orchard itself
was pulling her backward.
Her next message
was almost broken:
"…it wants someone who can speak for it…
someone who can carry its curse…"
Rohan's breath hitched.
"No.
No, I'm not doing that.
I won't!"
But then—
Shruti's silhouette cracked.
A horrible distortion
ran across her shape
like the orchard was tearing her apart.
She forced one final message out:
"…if you pick up the seed…
you won't be able to let go…"
Her silhouette snapped—
mist bursting outward
and scattering like red smoke.
Shruti vanished.
The Seed Moves
Rohan stood alone.
The seed pulsed sharply.
It began rolling—
slowly…
slowly…
then faster—
straight toward him.
He stepped back—
but the seed followed,
as if drawn to him
like a magnet.
"Stay away!"
Rohan shouted.
But sound died
before it even left his mouth.
The seed touched his shoe.
And the moment it did—
a sharp, cold pulse shot through his body
so strong
it knocked the breath out of him.
THUMP—
(silence)
THUMP—
(silence)
The orchard's presence
filled the entire room.
And one final message
hit Rohan's mind like ice:
"…your voice will be mine…"
The light in the seed
extinguished.
The silence deepened.
And Rohan realized—
this was only the beginning.