By the time Aarav reached home, the sky had already sunk into darkness. A faint glow spilled from the small window of their house. The familiar sounds greeted him—the laughter of children, the clatter of something falling, the thin echo of life cramped inside narrow walls.
His two younger brothers were exactly where he expected them. One sat cross‑legged on the floor with a school notebook open, pencil in hand but mind clearly wandering. The other was outside the door, playing with his friends—barefoot, wild‑eyed, and happy.
Aarav watched them for a moment.
They were his pride.
His responsibility.
And the last people he wanted to burden with his problems.
He asked them about their day, smiling as they talked over each other, competing to share the most exciting detail. He listened carefully, nodding, laughing where he should, even though his own thoughts were far from calm.
Then the door creaked.
His mother stepped inside.
She looked like she always did at the end of the day—shoulders sagging, eyes half‑open, exhaustion clinging to her like another layer of clothing. But when she saw her children, she smiled. She always forced a smile.
Aarav stood immediately. "Ma… should I make dinner today?"
She shook her head, lifting a hand as if brushing the idea aside. "No, beta. I'm not tired. I can cook."
But she was tired. Anyone could see it. Her hands trembled slightly as she set her bag down. Still, she went into the kitchen without another word.
Aarav hated it.
He hated seeing her break herself for them. He hated feeling helpless.
After a while, the smell of simple food filled the room. They sat together on the floor—the four of them forming a small, humble circle. His mother ate the bare minimum, pretending she wasn't hungry. Aarav did the same, eating only enough to keep the emptiness from waking him in the night.
His brothers ate happily, unaware of the sacrifices being made around them.
Later, when the lights dimmed and the house grew quiet, Aarav lay on the thin mattress beside his brothers. They fell asleep quickly.
He didn't.
He stared at the ceiling, his mind replaying the voice he heard.
Call Link In.
The words echoed inside him like a pulse.
He swallowed, whispering the phrase to himself.
"Link… in?"
The moment the words left his lips, the air rippled.
The floor beneath him dissolved.
The world turned inside out.
And Aarav was gone.
Cold.
That was the first thing Aarav felt.
Not the gentle chill of night—not the sharp bite of winter—but a deep, echoing cold that seemed to come from beneath the world itself. When his vision cleared, he found himself once again standing on that impossible water-like surface.
But it wasn't the same.
The sky was darker now—a deep blue so suffocating it felt like a bruise spread across the heavens. The reflective surface below him pulsed faintly, as though something giant and sleeping lay just beneath its skin.
Aarav stepped back instinctively.
The ripples that formed at his feet didn't fade.
They twisted.
Formed strange shapes.
And for a moment, he thought he saw a hand pressing up from under the surface.
His breath caught.
"Where… am I?" he whispered, though he knew no one was there to answer.
Except—
There was.
The voice returned.
Not loud. Not soft. Simply… present.
You returned.
Aarav spun around. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
Silence.
Then—
You heard the call. You spoke the command. Now you stand where others fear to wake.
Aarav's heart thudded so hard his chest hurt. "I-I didn't call anything! I just— I just said the words. I didn't mean to come back."
The voice responded without emotion.
Meaning does not matter. Only the call.
A crack appeared in the sky.
Not a sound—an actual crack—thin, white, spreading across the endless blue like glass shattering.
Aarav stumbled back, eyes wide. "What is happening? What do you want from me?"
For the first time, the voice shifted… almost as if it were amused.
Want? I want nothing. But something else does.
The water beneath him bulged.
A bubble.
A swell.
A shape.
Aarav's legs locked in place. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.
The voice continued:
You were chosen the moment you stepped toward the portal. The moment your fear tasted the air of this world. The moment you wished for more than you had.
Aarav shook his head violently. "No! I don't want— I didn't choose anything!"
But the world chose you.
The surface beneath him split open.
A chasm of glowing blue light yawned wide, swallowing the reflection, swallowing the sky, swallowing everything.
Aarav screamed as the ground vanished beneath him.
He fell—farther, deeper—into a void that pulsed like a beating heart.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was the voice whispering:
Link In… is only the beginning.