Ahaan ran until his legs burned. He didn't stop until the black building disappeared behind the trees. The hum was gone now, but it stayed inside his head like an echo.
He leaned against a tree, breathing hard. His hands shook as he opened the journal. The last line still glowed faintly:
"The girl is still the lock. But the lock is breaking."
Saira.
If she was the lock, then The Watcher would go to her first. And she was still in that house of mirrors.
Ahaan knew what he had to do.
He turned and ran back through the forest.
The orphanage appeared again through the mist. The house looked worse than before. Its walls were cracked, its windows shattered like broken teeth. The air around it felt heavy, like walking through water.
The front door was wide open now.
Waiting.
Ahaan stepped inside.
The hallway was darker than before. All the mirrors on the doors were shattered. Pieces of glass crunched under his shoes as he walked. The air smelled like something burned.
"Saira?" his voice echoed.
At first, nothing.
Then — soft humming. A low tune, coming from upstairs.
He followed the sound.
The room at the end of the hall was glowing faintly. He pushed the door open and froze.
Saira was sitting in the middle of the floor. Her back to him. Her long black hair hid her face. Around her, the broken glass pieces were floating in the air, spinning slowly like stars.
Her skin wasn't pale anymore. It was grey, cracked in places, with black veins crawling under the surface. And her shadow… wasn't her shadow. It moved on its own, stretching across the walls like something alive.
"S-Saira…" Ahaan whispered.
The humming stopped. Slowly, she turned her head.
Her black eyes glowed faintly now, like tiny lights in a deep well. When she spoke, her voice was soft — almost like the Saira he first met.
"You came back."
Ahaan nodded nervously. "I had to. The Watcher… it's coming."
Her lips curled into a strange smile.
"It's already here."
The floor trembled under his feet. The walls creaked like they were breathing again. Somewhere deep in the house came that low growl — the one that made Ahaan's bones ache.
Saira stood up slowly. The floating glass swirled around her like a storm.
Her voice was different now — deeper, layered with something else.
"Your father made me the lock. But locks break, Ahaan. And when I break…"
She looked toward the wall. Cracks spread across it like lightning. From those cracks, black liquid began to drip.
Ahaan stepped back. "Saira, we can stop this—"
She tilted her head, her black eyes fixed on him.
"Stop? You can't stop a story once it's started. Your father wrote the ending when he gave me the curse. And now…"
The ceiling split open with a deafening crack. A giant claw pushed through, dripping tar. The Watcher's voice filled the house.
"The key. Give me the key."
Ahaan clutched his wrist. The glowing mark was back, brighter than ever. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Saira took a step toward him. Her smile was sharp now, too sharp.
"Run if you want. But you'll come back. You always do."
The house shook violently. Furniture slid across the floor. The glass shards exploded, cutting Ahaan's arms as he stumbled toward the door.
Behind him, Saira's voice followed, twisted and echoing:
"When the door opens, there will be no world left for you to run to."
Ahaan burst out of the house into the storm. Black clouds had gathered overhead, swirling like a whirlpool in the sky. The forest was silent again — no wind, no birds, nothing.
He ran until the orphanage was gone. Then he collapsed in the dirt, clutching the journal. His blood dripped onto the page, and as soon as it touched, words formed in his father's handwriting:
"If she becomes the door, kill the lock before it kills the world."
Ahaan stared at the words, his throat dry.
Kill Saira?
He couldn't. She was a victim. His father did this to her.
But if he didn't…
The Watcher would come through.
Then now.....