Night fell, and darkness came as it always did.
Adam did not remember deciding to run.
He only remembered his feet striking stone and mud, breath tearing from his chest as the fog peeled away before him.
Each step grew heavier, the land itself dragging at his bones, as if there was no escape.
Trees blurred past him, lantern lights, shifting shadows, faceless shapes blending with the fog.
Someone shouted his name.
Hands reached for him from the fog.
"Adam—!"
He twisted sharply, slipping free. His shoulder slammed into someone. A basket fell. A woman screamed as he tore past, but he did not look back.
The village rushed by in fragments, doors thrown open, lanterns swaying wildly.
Adam's lungs burned as if filled with ash, vision narrowing as each heartbeat slammed painfully against his chest.
He didn't stop.
The blacksmith's house rose out of the fog like an anchor.
Adam crashed through the door with enough force to rattle the hinges.
"Baba!"
The forge was dark.
The coals were cold. The tools were arranged with care, lined neatly along the walls, exactly where they should be.
Ganesh sat on his workbench after a long day of work, reading a newspaper.
He turned.
The moment he saw Adam, mouth wide and unfocused beneath the red cloth, gasping for air, a worried look covered his face as he rushed to Adam.
"What happened?" Ganesh asked.
Adam staggered forward, hands trembling so badly he had to brace himself against the wall. "There was a man," he said, the words tumbling out unevenly. "In the sky. He stopped my kite. He was floating in the sky."
"That man didn't look like he was from here. His presence was very scary, so I ran."
Ganesh didn't move.
"He said his name was Cheon Ma-je."
The name struck the room like a dropped hammer.
For a single breath, the world seemed to pause.
Ganesh crossed the distance in two steps and knelt in front of Adam, gripping his shoulders with iron strength.
Ganesh handed Adam a cup of water. "Are you hurt?"
Adam shook his head hard. "No. He didn't touch me. But Baba, he was—" He struggled, throat tightening. "Heavy. Like the air was bowing around him. He asked me to go with him."
Ganesh's fingers tightened, just enough for Adam to feel it.
"And?" Ganesh asked.
"I said no."
For a fraction of a second, so brief Adam almost missed it, relief flickered across his father's face.
Then it vanished, buried beneath something colder. Sharper.
Ganesh straightened. "Stay here."
He turned toward the bedroom.
Angali was already awake.
She had heard Adam's voice. Had felt the wrongness before any explanation reached her ears. When she saw Ganesh's face, her hands began to tremble.
"You're going out," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"Can it be them?" she added.
"No, but I have to confirm."
With a worried look."Dear, please don't go. It's too dangerous."
Ganesh replied, "I have to."
He knelt beside her bed, taking her hands with surprising gentleness. "Listen to me. Do not let Adam leave this house. You know what to do in case of emergency."
Her breath hitched. "Ganesh… please."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "I won't take chances. Not anymore."
When he stood, he reached beneath his clothes.
The fabric shifted strangely, too smoothly, as if something beneath it moved independently. For a brief moment, something hard pressed against his ribs before vanishing again under cloth.
Adam noticed.
Didn't understand.
Said nothing.
Ganesh took a decoration from the wall. A sword hilt. Familiar. Balanced but incomplete. The kind of thing he had held for most of his life.
"I'll be back before morning," he said.
Adam grabbed his sleeve. "Baba… Don't go."
Ganesh saw his worried look.
"Don't worry, I'll find out what he is here for."
He stepped into the fog.
The night swallowed him whole.
***
Ganesh felt it the moment he crossed beyond the village boundary.
The forest resisted him.
If that's who I think he is, he could have easily captured Adam. How did he even enter Nepal?
I have to find his purpose for coming here. I hope it's not anything to do with us.
Each step Ganesh took sank deeper than it should have, boots dragging through earth that clung. The air thickened, pressing against his lungs. Pockets of heaviness pulled at his joints.
He slowed, forcing himself to breathe, forcing himself to focus.
Beneath his clothes, the hidden suit came alive without a sound. A low hum vibrated through his bones as thin lines of sensation traced along his ribs and spine. Data flickered across the inside of his vision, translucent and precise.
[No thermal anomalies.]
[No spatial tears.]
[No irregular signatures.]
Yet something was there.
[Life signal detected with dense energy.]
He followed the pull deeper into the forest.
Fog thinned gradually, replaced by jagged stone and exposed roots. The trees grew sparse, twisted, their trunks warped in ways that made Ganesh uneasy.
Then he saw it.
A gaping cave yawned before him.
Ganesh crouched and pressed his gloved hand against the cave walls.
There were huge claw marks.
His visor flickered.
[One Life signal detected below within 500 meters.]
He exhaled slowly.
Ganesh slowly descended through the cave.
[One Life signal detected within 400 meters.]
[300 meters.]
[200 meters.]
[WARNING!]
[Multiple Life signals detected within 100 meters.]
The signal doubled, then tripled, then multiplied beyond the system's estimates.
Ganesh looked ahead—
The ground started shaking.
Hundreds of glowing eyes in the dark.
Shadows surged forward without edges or sound, their numbers climbing faster than his system could count.
Were they hiding their presence?
Ganesh pulled out the sword hilt.
A blinding light came piercing through it.
A sword made of plasma. It shone so bright that it lit up the whole cave.
Ganesh swung the sword instinctively, the suit amplifying the strike; he struck at the cave and blocked the route.
Warnings still flared across his vision.
[Multiple dense energy enclosing.]
It was too late to escape.
Ganesh steadied his breath.
Fear tried to take root. He didn't panic even though he knew this situation had already slipped beyond acceptable risk.
Retreat was optimal.
The data in his tech said so. Every projection ended the same way. He won't make it out.
Ganesh ignored it.
The monsters broke the blockage and rushed at Ganesh.
He adjusted the blade in his grip.
Ganesh murmured, voice low and steady, "I can't die here."
Power surged through the suit as he used every ounce of energy he had stored throughout the years. The hum deepened, vibrating through his bones, through the ground beneath his feet.
"I'm done running."
He stepped forward, casting one last glance toward the village before steeling his heart and dashing ahead.
The shadows surged.
Ganesh did not step back.
The cave pulsed.
Ganesh roared.
Then—
Nothing.
The night stretched on.
Ganesh Thapa did not return.
***
Adam did not sleep.
He sat by the door with his knees drawn to his chest, back pressed against the cold wall, listening. Every sound outside made his breath catch. Every shift of fog, every whisper of wind brushing the walls tightened something deep in his chest.
His mother watched him from the bed.
Angali's fingers were knotted into the blanket so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She said nothing. She didn't need to. Every glance she cast toward the door carried the same question she refused to speak.
When will he come back?
Hours passed in fragments. Adam lost count of them. Time blurred into long stretches of waiting, footsteps that turned out to be nothing, voices that faded before reaching the house.
Then dawn came.
Soft. Pale. Unforgiving.
And Ganesh did not.
By the time the fog began to thin, the village already knew.
Doors opened slowly. People gathered in small knots, voices low, faces drawn. Ganesh treated everyone with care, and the villagers did the same to his family; every adult was worried.
By noon, the square was full.
The Village Chief stood at the front, his shoulders heavy beneath his robe. His wife knelt beside Angali, arms wrapped around her, doing her best to reassure.
The chief hugged Adam. "Stay Strong, Adam."
Chief went outside where the villagers were gathered.
"Ganesh, the strongest man in our village, still hasn't returned."
"Do not go into those woods," the Chief said, his voice carrying despite its quiet tone. "Not after this. We will call the warriors for the search. That area is no longer safe for us common folks."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Adam barely heard him.
His eyes were unfocused, fixed on the dirt at his feet as the same image replayed again and again in his mind.
A man in the sky.
Unmoved by the wind.
Holding a kite between two fingers as if it weighed nothing at all.
It's not the woods, Adam thought numbly.
It's not a monster.
His hands curled into fists.
It's him.
That night, Adam couldn't breathe.
The house felt smaller, the walls pressing in. Every inhale felt shallow, unsatisfying, as if the air itself refused to reach his lungs. Guilt settled over him heavier than gravity ever had, pinning him in place.
Every thought led back to the same point.
If I hadn't flown the kite.
If I hadn't gone there.
Baba would still be with us.
Before dawn, Adam stood. He couldn't take it anymore.
I have to save my dad before it's too late.
Suddenly, Angali spoke.
Adam froze, heart hammering.
He glanced in her room. Then he heard her. She whispered, barely audible, "Ganesh…"
The word trembled.
Angali had exhausted herself and passed out. She turned slightly in her sleep, her hand shaking as she tightly made a fist.
Adam saw the dried trails of tears, her face full of worry.
Something inside Adam twisted painfully.
"I'm sorry, mamu," he whispered, then he started preparing to leave.
Adam turned away before she could wake up.
Before he lost the nerve to leave.
He moved quietly, careful not to wake his mother.
The axe that lay on a corner. Too big. Too heavy. A tool he used to cut wood and a bunch of papers that he kept in his room.
He put papers in his pockets, tied the axe to his back, and rushed to the hills.
Don't worry mamu, I will bring him back, I promise.
Angali frowned faintly, as if she could feel Adam heading out, a mother's instinct.
The cold weight grounded him.
Adam ran.
The hill loomed ahead, fog curling around its peak like a memory that refused to fade. His legs burned as he climbed, breath tearing at his chest.
He arrived
Where he met the stranger.
The wind was still.
"CHEON MA-JE!"
His voice cracked, echoing into the fog.
Again.
"CHEON MA-JE!"
The air shifted.
Not violently.
But slowly, pressure increased.
Subtle at first, like a hand closing slowly around the hill. Adam's ears rang. His knees bent slightly under the weight.
He raised the axe.
"How dare you!" The words tore out of him raw and unfiltered. "Give me my father back!"
The sky tore open.
It split as if the sky itself couldn't contain him.
Cheon Ma-Je stepped out of nothing.
Adam felt his presence before he truly saw him, a weight deeper than gravity, sharper than the fear itself. The man hovered effortlessly, robes dark as shadow, with royal purple accents that caught light and shimmered.
He didn't hesitate.
As soon as Cheon Ma-Je stepped on the ground… Adam threw papers.
Dozens of sheets flew straight, each marked with a rough circle drawn in frantic strokes. They wrapped against Cheon Ma-Je's face, clinging to his eyes, his mouth, his nose. Stopping his breathing.
He rushed and leaped towards the man with his axe.
The axe came down with all his might.
As the axe came closer, it evaporated along with the papers.
They all ceased to exist.
Cheon Ma-Je glared, and Adam flung backward as if struck by an unseen force, his body skidding across the ground. Pain exploded through him, stealing his breath. He coughed, rolled, and struggled upright on shaking legs.
His body screamed at him with pain.
Something deeper pushed him forward. His vision dimmed. Darkness crept in at the edges.
But his arm still moved.
He grabbed a rock and charged again, blood slick on his fingers. The stone disintegrated mid-swing. His fist followed…
But he never reached him.
He got up again, but his body refused to move.
Cuts and bruises all across his body, yet he was still standing.
Adam raised his hand, then collapsed while standing.
Cheon Ma-Je noticed something.
He looked back, and he saw the whole sky shaking.
Cheon Ma-Je was shocked.
He caught Adam before he hit the ground.
For the first time, something shifted in the man's expression.
"…Remarkable," he murmured.
***
Adam woke up.
The air was thin and painfully cold.
He lay on green jade, the surface so smooth it barely felt real beneath his fingers. He expected pain.
There was none.
The cuts. The bruises. Gone.
A pale light spilled in from the opening ahead.
Adam rose slowly and stepped toward it.
Wind hit him first, sharp and unforgiving.
Then the view.
Endless mountains stretched before him, white peaks tearing through the clouds. The world felt smaller from here.
He turned.
The chamber behind him was a perfect square carved into the mountain itself. No cracks. No rough edges. The walls reflected him faintly, like dim glass.
Adam saw a figure in front.
Cheon Ma-je stood near the cliff, holding the red bandages.
He turned around and tossed the bandages towards Adam.
"This mountain range," he said calmly, "is called Ganesh."
Adam was already shaking from the cold, yet chills went down his spine.
"You!"
Cheon Ma-je didn't react. "Calm yourself, child. There has been a misunderstanding."
"My father's name is Ganesh." Adam's voice hardened. "Tell me where he is."
"Right now!"
"I do not know," Cheon Ma-je replied without hesitation.
Adam looked at his face.
No delay. Nothing to hide.
Just the truth.
Adam immediately felt it.
His anger faltered.
He lowered his head.
"I shouldn't have attacked you, mister," he said. "I wasn't thinking properly."
Cheon Ma-je tilted his head slightly. "How are you certain I am not lying?"
"I can sense it," Adam answered. "I always could. When someone lies. When something's wrong."
Cheon Ma-je's gaze lingered on him.
He studied him, not casually but carefully.
Adam lifted his chin. "If you don't know where he is, I'll find him myself."
"I will make sure to repay you, mister."
Cheon Ma-je's lips gave a faint smile.
"You will not survive a week in these mountains."
"Forget that, how will you go down?"
Adam stared at the towering mountains, their fog-covered peaks like sharp claws rising from the abyss as the wind howled below.
Despite the fear. Adam didn't waver.
"Then I'll learn how."
That made the man pause.
Cheon Ma-je stepped closer, robes shifting softly in the wind.
"I can help you find him," he said.
"But before that, let me ask you one thing?"
He raised his left hand, and Adam felt it.
The weight in his hand grew heavier.
He knocked once against empty air. Silence followed, then the world rippled.
Space itself curved, tsunamis of distortion folding outward.
In an instant, wind, fog, clouds, everything cleared.
For the first time, Adam saw a clear blue sky.
"Will you become my disciple?"