RAW AND PERFECT
Continuity...
Opening Scene — Shlokh
Dinner time had already passed when his mother called out from the kitchen.
"Shlokh… where are you? It's late. Come eat."
Shlokh stepped out of his room slowly, exhaustion written across his face.
"I'll eat," he said quietly, then added,
"Maa… can you give me milk with honey today?"
She looked at him with concern.
"Your throat again?"
He nodded.
"It's been feeling strange for a while."
She didn't ask further.
After dinner, she handed him the warm glass.
Shlokh drank it slowly, the warmth settling his nerves.
The tension in his throat eased—just enough.
By the time he returned to his room, tiredness weighed him down completely.
He lay on the bed.
And sleep came quickly.
The Dream
It was deeper this time.
Not loud.
Not violent.
Mist formed slowly—like clouds sinking instead of rising.
Not the same dream…
…but close.
Uncomfortably close.
Shlokh found himself standing inside his own room.
Everything was familiar.
Too familiar.
Then he noticed it.
A chair.
Placed at the center of the room.
Its structure looked wrong.
Blackish.
Brownish.
Like bone fused with wood.
Old.
Unnatural.
Shlokh's breath caught.
His body trembled as he stared at it.
This wasn't imagination.
This was something waiting.
And the dream did not end.
That night, Shlokh felt something strange.
Not pain.
Relief.
The constant tightness in his throat—something that had bothered him for days—eased suddenly, as if unseen fingers had loosened a knot inside him.
He coughed once.
No blood.
No burn.
Just silence.
Somewhere beyond his senses, a presence withdrew—calm, deliberate.
Shlokh didn't know it then,
but his voice had been spared.
For now.
Scene 2. Arrival
Pain struck first.
Not the sharp vibration Shlokh was used to—
this was different.
His golden stone didn't hum.
It panicked.
The sensation felt almost alive, as if the stone itself was afraid.
Shlokh tried to move, but the dream-space tightened around him.
Symbols flickered briefly in the air—shapes he didn't recognize, appearing and vanishing before he could focus.
Then—
Someone was there.
Sitting calmly on the chair.
The same unnatural chair.
Shlokh's breath hitched.
Before he could speak, his throat burned.
Warm liquid filled his mouth.
He coughed—
Blood splattered onto the floor.
The man leaned forward slightly.
"You're Vaibhav's friend," he said calmly.
Shlokh tried to respond, but only a broken sound escaped him.
Veere…?
The name surfaced in his mind without knowing why.
The man raised his hand.
A reddish energy pulsed outward—Riddhox.
It fused directly with the stone in Shlokh's throat.
The reaction was immediate.
The golden stone screamed.
A sound erupted—
not audible, not physical—
A high-frequency cry, sharp enough to fracture the dream itself.
The space shattered.
POV — Shourya
Shourya gasped awake.
The same vision.
The same chair.
The same man.
His left eye burned violently.
He screamed.
The door flew open.
"Why are you shouting?" his elder sister, Mradula, asked sharply.
Shourya clutched his eye.
"It's burning… my eye hurts."
She didn't argue.
She gave him medicine, applied eye drops, and made him lie down.
"Sleep," she said. "You're overthinking."
Shourya closed his eyes.
But sleep dragged him back in.
The Dream (Shourya)
He saw it again.
The stone.
The fusion.
Reality folding inward.
Confusion piling on confusion.
Then—
He saw something else.
Something he couldn't name.
Something that shook him from the inside.
His body trembled violently.
Fear wrapped around his chest.
The darkness tightened—
And the dream held him there.
SOMEONE
Scene 3
Deep beneath the ground—
Far from cities.
Far from light.
A place built like a bunker.
Walls reinforced.
Systems humming quietly.
Facilities designed for survival, not comfort.
At the center of the room, a man sat on an ordinary chair.
Plain.
Unremarkable.
He raised his hand slightly.
Energy flowed.
The chair responded.
Bone twisted into shape.
Vines wrapped around its frame.
Thorns grew where comfort should have been.
One chair became another.
A fusion.
He stood.
Another man approached him cautiously.
"Sir… we've located their homes."
Veere didn't turn.
"You're slow," he said calmly.
"And weak."
The man stiffened.
"There's no need anymore," Veere continued.
"They may not be enemies."
A pause.
"They might become our allies."
Silence filled the bunker.
Voice of Creation
Soft.
Warning.
"Friends and allies often look the same at first."
A breath.
"Even Brutus was once trusted."
The lights dimmed slightly.
And the chapter closed.....
FATUITY " CHAPTER 11:CONTINUITY
-Alive_here0806