It darkness wrapped around Ahaan like a cold blanket.
But this time, he didn't scream.
He had made his choice in the Echo Room.
He wanted to remember everything.
And now, the Hollow Mind was letting him go…
but not without one final memory.
His feet hit solid ground.
He opened his eyes.
He was standing at the end of a long hallway made of black stone.
The walls were full of strange carvings.
They moved like they were alive, whispering in a language he didn't understand.
There was only one door at the end.
It was tall, rusty, and covered in handprints.
Above it, written in white chalk, were the words:
"The Last Memory. One enters. None return."
Ahaan's chest tightened.
His hands were shaking, but he stepped forward.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
He reached the door… and pushed.
It creaked open slowly.
Inside was a round room with no ceiling.
Black clouds swirled high above.
In the center was a chair.
And on that chair… was a body.
Ahaan froze.
It was his father's body.
But it looked different.
Like it had been sitting there for years.
Dry skin.
Hollow eyes.
Mouth sewn shut.
But the strange thing was — the body was holding something.
A small glass box, glowing faintly.
Ahaan stepped closer.
The box had a single note inside it.
It said:
"This is not a memory. It's a warning."
Suddenly, the room became cold.
Not just cold—freezing.
Ahaan's breath came out in white clouds.
He looked up.
The clouds above twisted into a face.
Huge.
Shadowy.
Eyes like holes.
And then it spoke.
Not with words, but inside his head:
"So… you found the final truth."
Ahaan clenched his fists.
"I want to know what my father did. Why all this started."
The voice laughed.
It shook the room like thunder.
"Your father opened the door between memory and madness."
"He used the journal to trap me. But it was never enough."
"He thought locking me in the Hollow Mind would stop me. But he forgot…"
"Truth is a disease. And now it lives in you."
The glass box started to shake.
The body of Ahaan's father moved slightly.
The stitched mouth tried to open.
Ahaan panicked.
"Stop! Let him go!"
The shadow above hissed.
"He gave his mind to keep the door shut."
"But you… you brought the key."
Suddenly, the journal appeared in Ahaan's hands again.
It was glowing red.
Burning hot.
And a page turned on its own.
There was a new drawing.
A door.
Cracked.
Leaking black smoke.
The page had one sentence:
"The lock is weakening."
The shadow screamed.
It began pouring downward—like a storm of hands and eyes and mouths.
It was trying to get into Ahaan's mind.
"NO!" Ahaan shouted.
He grabbed the glass box and held it tight.
The body in the chair turned its head toward him.
And for one second—just one—Ahaan saw his real father's eyes.
Not empty.
Not dead.
Just tired.
And full of love.
His father whispered:
"Break it… before it breaks you."
Ahaan raised the box over his head.
The shadow shrieked.
"IF YOU DESTROY IT, YOU DESTROY EVERYTHING!"
His hands trembled.
The box felt like it weighed a thousand kilos.
But he brought it down.
CRASH!
The glass box shattered.
Light exploded through the room.
White.
Pure.
Blinding.
The shadow screamed louder than ever — a terrible, echoing sound that cracked the walls.
The body in the chair went still.
The carvings on the wall stopped moving.
And just like that…
The Hollow Mind collapsed.
Ahaan fell again.
But this fall felt different.
It wasn't heavy or dark.
It was like being carried.
Like being set free.
He woke up… in his room.
His real room.
The window was open.
Birds were chirping.
His journal was on the desk, but it looked normal now.
No red glow.
No moving pages.
He opened it.
Only blank paper.
But deep down, he remembered everything.
The orphanage.
The voices.
The Echo Room.
The Last Memory.
And his father's final words.
But something still bothered him.
He walked to the mirror.
Looked into his own eyes.
And for one second—
He saw it.
A flicker.
A shadow… behind his reflection.
Smiling.
Starting some new....
Starting