The sanctuary's lights hummed softly, casting shadows across the stone walls. Arjun couldn't sleep.
Too much had happened in too little time.
The old man—Mahir—had offered him a place to rest in one of the smaller chambers of the underground base. But Arjun had only tossed and turned, haunted by flashes of energy, blood, the kid he saved, Mira's unreadable face, and one recurring word:
Ananta.
He sat up, pressing his palms into his temples.
His chest still felt warm—like the strange flicker inside hadn't faded. If anything, it pulsed stronger now. Like it was syncing to something outside of him. He stood, pulling on his jacket, and stepped into the hallway.
The corridor was quiet, save for faint voices deeper inside.
As Arjun rounded the corner toward the map room, he heard Mira's voice through a half-open door.
"He's not ready yet," she said.
"He doesn't have time to be," Mahir replied.
Another voice—female, sharp. "If the Revenants have sensed his awakening, then it's already begun."
Revenants?
Arjun leaned against the wall, heart beating faster.
Mira replied in a low tone, "He doesn't even know what that power inside him really is. And if it's what I think—what the seal reacted to—then we're dealing with something older than the Ananta."
Arjun stepped back, accidentally brushing a hanging lantern.
The voices inside went silent.
Before he could move, Mira opened the door.
"You should be resting," she said flatly.
Arjun didn't argue. "What are Revenants?"
Mahir and the other woman exchanged a look. Finally, Mira sighed.
"They're remnants," she said. "Of those who once carried the power but fell too deep into it. Twisted by ambition or grief. Their bodies decayed, but their will... didn't."
"So, like monsters?"
"No," Mahir said. "They're worse. Monsters don't remember who they were. Revenants do."
---
The next morning, Mira took Arjun to the rooftop of the sanctuary—hidden within an old textile mill near Lower Parel. The city stretched beyond them in every direction. Distant cranes, tangled cables, billboards fading under the sun.
Mira dropped a wooden staff in front of him. "Pick it up."
Arjun blinked. "What is this?"
"Training. Basic forms. If that flicker in you ignites again, you'll tear your body apart if you're not grounded."
He looked at the staff, hesitating.
She walked behind him. "Feet shoulder width. Bend your knees."
He copied her stance awkwardly.
"Now swing."
He did.
Wrong.
The staff wobbled. His posture buckled.
Again.
Again.
Again.
By the tenth time, sweat ran down his spine.
"You're not trying to hit something," Mira said. "You're trying to align with something. Inside you."
Arjun exhaled. Closed his eyes.
Thump.
The flicker in his chest pulsed.
His hands gripped the wood tighter. This time, he moved smoother—still clumsy, but with less resistance.
Mira nodded faintly. "Better."
---
That night, Arjun sat alone on the rooftop after practice. The pendant Mira had given him—the spiral one—hung around his neck. He held it up against the moonlight.
It pulsed faintly in his hand.
"Why me?" he whispered again.
Below, the city moved like blood through veins. Endless and unaware.
Suddenly, a noise behind him.
Not Mira. Not Mahir.
Something slower. Uneven.
Arjun turned—and froze.
A man stood at the far edge of the rooftop, tall and rail-thin, dressed in black. His skin was pale, almost ash-colored, and his eyes—
Red.
Not glowing. Burning.
The man smiled.
"Found you," he whispered.
Arjun took a step back, reaching for the staff nearby. "Who the hell are you?"
The man tilted his head. "A shadow of a shadow. A memory too stubborn to die."
He raised a hand. The air rippled.
Arjun felt his chest twist—like the energy inside was being pulled out.
He dropped to a knee, choking.
Mira appeared behind the man like smoke, slashing with a blade of glowing white.
But it passed through the figure like mist.
He laughed, voice splitting into layers. "Not yet, little spark. Your light hasn't bloomed. When it does…"
He vanished.
Arjun gasped, the pain in his chest gone as fast as it came.
Mira rushed to him, eyes wide for the first time.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded, barely. "What the hell was that?"
Mira didn't answer.
Because even she didn't know.