The lights had gone out.
Rohan stood absolutely still,
his breath trapped somewhere between his chest and throat.
The room felt colder than it ever had—
as if every corner was pressing in on him.
The only thing glowing
was the black apple on his table.
A soft, eerie blue light leaked through its cracks.
THUMP…
THUMP…
THUMP…
The heartbeat was stronger now.
Too strong.
Rohan whispered:
"…stop… please stop…"
But the apple only pulsed harder.
A Crack That Shouldn't Grow
Suddenly—
another crack split across the apple's surface,
thin like a lightning strike
but moving with purpose.
Something inside the apple
was pushing to get out.
Rohan took one step closer—
and the air changed.
Silent.
Heavy.
Vibrating.
He grabbed his phone flashlight
and pointed it at the apple.
At first, nothing looked different.
Then the light caught something…
Inside the crack,
for a split second,
Rohan saw movement.
Small.
Shrinking.
Expanding.
Like a breathing thing.
He stumbled backward.
"No… no, no…"
His voice shook.
"This… isn't normal."
The apple pulsed again—
this time so strongly
that the table vibrated.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
And then—
SHHHHHHHHH—
A burst of cold mist
escaped from the crack.
The Whisper Inside the Room
The mist didn't float upward
like normal vapor.
It moved sideways…
toward him.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like tiny fingers of fog
trying to reach his face.
Rohan backed into the wall.
"Stay away…"
But the mist curled around his wrist,
and in that moment—
A silent whisper slammed into his mind:
"…you opened the path…"
Rohan's chest tightened.
"M-Me?
How??"
Another silent message:
"…you touched the seed…"
The black apple's cracks glowed brighter,
blue lines spreading like roots.
Rohan shook his head,
breathing fast.
"I didn't know—
I didn't know what it was!"
Silence deepened.
The mist circled him…
Then suddenly stopped.
Like it was waiting.
For something.
Or someone.
The Arrival
The temperature in the room dropped sharply.
Colder… colder…
until Rohan's breath
turned into white fog.
He knew she was coming
before he even saw her.
The red mist formed in the corner
and slowly shaped into her silhouette.
Shruti.
But this time her presence
felt weaker—
as if the orchard was draining her
every time she appeared.
Her head lifted,
and a heavy message
entered Rohan's mind:
"…don't let it open."
Rohan stared at the glowing apple.
"I can't stop it!
It's opening on its own!"
Shruti's form flickered—
red shifting into dark gray,
like she was fading.
Another message—
sharp, urgent:
"…when the seed opens…
it chooses someone…"
Rohan's voice cracked.
"Chooses for what!?"
Shruti turned her head
toward him for the first time—
a slow, painful movement.
Her final message struck him
like ice freezing his lungs:
"…to become the next voice of the orchard."
The mist around Rohan tightened.
The apple pulsed—
ready to break open.
The silence grew thick enough
to smother everything.
And the chapter closed
on one single terrifying truth:
Something inside the apple
was meant for him.