"Have we arrived?" I asked, my heart thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The station was a familiar chaos, but everything felt different today.
"Almost! Platform 15," Akira replied, her eyes gleaming with an excitement that felt… excessive. It was just a fancy boarding school, after all.
"Okay!"
We pushed through the bustling crowd, the air thick with the smell of steam, oil, and spicy samosas. But as we moved past Platform 14, the world… glitched.
The noise faded into a dull, muffled hum, as if someone had stuffed cotton in my ears. The vibrant colors of saris and advertisements seemed to wash out. The familiar scents vanished, replaced by something metallic and cold, like the air before a lightning storm.
I shook my head, blinking. "Aki, do you feel that? It's so weird over here."
She didn't even glance back. "It's the altitude. Come on, we're almost there."
Altitude? We're still in Bangalore, I thought, but I kept quiet, feeling foolish.
The other students heading this way looked older, their faces set with a unnerving confidence. They moved like they owned the place. A few kids my age looked just as confused and out of place as I felt.
Nobody tells you how weird it feels to board a train to a school you know nothing about.
Akira had called it "elite," "prestigious," and "exclusive." Mom and Dad were so proud. But they never really explained what was taught there. Just that it was a huge honor.
"Platform 15," Akira announced, as if she was reading from a script.
My feet slowed to a stop. "Aki. Wait. That's not possible."
There was no Platform 15. The station ended at 14. But where a solid wall should have been, the platform extended into a hazy, shimmering corridor.
"What did they do, renovate?" I mumbled, my voice weak.
Akira finally looked at me, a strange, unreadable smile on her face. "Something like that."
And then I saw the train.
It was like nothing built by human hands. Sleek, silver, and silent. Its surface wasn't painted; it seemed to be made of liquid metal, with shapes moving under its surface—wolves running, eagles soaring, waves crashing. It was impossible. A trick of the light.
My mouth went dry. "What is that?"
"Isn't it amazing?" Akira breathed, her eyes wide with awe. "Coach seven! Let's go!" She grabbed my wrist. Her grip was like a vice.
"Amazing? Aki, that's not— how is it doing that? What kind of school is this?" Panic started to lace my words.
"The best kind. Come on." She pulled me forward, her strength surprising me.
I stumbled after her, my mind racing. This was all wrong. The train, the platform, the look in Akira's eyes. This wasn't a normal school. Had I been signed up for some bizarre cult?
We found our compartment and I collapsed into the window seat, my legs shaky. Akira took the aisle, blocking my exit. Which was… new. And terrifying.
The train began to move without a sound, without a whistle, gliding away from the world I knew. I watched Bangalore vanish, replaced by a forest that seemed too deep, too green.
Then Akira's hand closed over mine.
Her skin was ice-cold.
I flinched. "Akira, what's going on? You're scaring me."
"Remember my grandma's good luck chant?" Her voice was low, too calm. "The one she said before long journeys?"
"Yeah…?" I said, my heart hammering. This wasn't a good luck chant. This was something else.
"I think I should do it now. For the journey."
She didn't wait for my reply.
The words that left her lips weren't any language I knew. They were low, guttural, and melodic all at once. They wrapped around the compartment, making the air itself feel thick and heavy. My head began to swim. A warm, leaden fatigue poured through my limbs, pulling me down into the seat.
"Akira… stop…" I slurred, trying to pull my hand away, but I couldn't make my muscles obey. "What… are you… doing…?"
The lights in the compartment flickered—and then dissolved into a blinding, golden haze.
It was warm and heavy, like swimming in honey. It pressed in on me, pulling me away from the seat, from the train, from my own body.
The last thing I heard was Akira's voice, strained and desperate: "Just stay with me, Mira!"
But I couldn't.
The light swallowed me whole.
I woke to the scent of rain and cold, damp earth.
I was lying on grass. Outside.
What?
I pushed myself up, my head spinning. The sky above was a swirling vortex of color—sapphire, violet, emerald—with stars that pulsed like living things.
This wasn't India. This wasn't Earth.
A voice, soft and clear and inside my own head, whispered: You are destined for more than this.
I jerked upright, scrambling backward. "Who's there?!"
A figure emerged from the shadows beneath a tree that glowed with silver leaves. A man, tall and ageless, with hair the color of moonlight. His eyes held a depth that made me feel dizzy.
"Welcome, Mira," he said. His voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable weight of authority.
"Where am I? What is this place? What did you do with Akira?" The questions tumbled out, sharp with panic.
"You are safe. This is a place of awakening." He took a step closer, and the air hummed with energy. "The power within you has been dormant for too long. It is time to rise."
I stared at him, utterly lost. "Power? What are you talking about? I'm not… I'm not special. There's been a mistake. I just got on a train to school."
He smiled, a faint, knowing curve of his lips. "There is no mistake. You are exactly where you are meant to be."
The world around us shuddered. The colors of the sky bled together, the ground beneath my feet began to dissolve.
"No! Wait! Tell me what's happening!" I screamed.
The man's form began to fade. "All will be revealed in time."
The world fractured into a million shards of light.
"Mira! Can you hear me? FIGHT IT!"
Akira's voice was a distant scream, tearing me back from the edge.
I was falling through darkness, reaching for a voice that was suddenly too far away.
And then—
Nothing.