The final toll of the bell was no longer a glimmer of hope. It was the last roar of death. The sound struck against the Rajbari's black shadow and shattered, and those broken fragments now drift through the air, returning to human ears as poisonous whispers. "More… more… more…" The same word rises in thousands of voices from every corner of the village, as if the entire world has become a single colossal heart trembling only with the pulse of hunger.
Anik no longer belongs to any name. He is now a moving void, a living apocalypse infused in every cell with the agony of thousands of souls. From his skull forged crown drips black blood, though it is not blood but the ash of souls, melting memory at a single touch. His skeletal wings have spread wide, each tip bearing a mouth that does not scream but devours breath, light, hope, everything. He feels it all: Rahat's final glance, his mother's bones decaying, the heartbeat of every villager that now beats inside him. He is hunter and hunted, king and sacrifice, torment and satisfaction at once.
The walls of the Rajbari melt like living flesh. Every brick splits open, and from within emerge black veins like nerves, spreading across village roads, highways, electric poles, phone screens. Every screen shows the same image: a thousand smiling faces whispering, "From today, you are part of us." The city does not awaken. It begins to swallow. A news anchor's face tears open, and Anik's face emerges from within. Phone calls carry only the breath of hunger. Satellites go blind, then open black eyes. National borders dissolve. The Earth becomes a massive lump of flesh, with the Rajbari at its center, a predator, an ultimate annihilation.
The Primal Mother rises from her throne. Her body is no longer a body but an endless abyss from which emerges an army of skeletal children sacrificed across centuries. They are not dead. They are hungry. Every bone bears a mouth, every mouth cries, "Feed the hunger!" The Mother laughs thunderously. "Anik, offer your last human. Today the Earth, tomorrow the stars, the day after the universe, all within our womb." Her colossal mouth stretches across the horizon. Stars fall into that black vortex. Mountains collapse. Oceans turn to blood. The world becomes a glass jar labeled "Future," now only a feast for hunger.
The final wave arrives in the last watch of night. The whole world tries to sleep, but every dream becomes one. All see themselves standing in the Rajbari's courtyard before the throne of bones, the Mother seated upon it. Her abyss mouth opens, and from within emerges a child's hand. The hand grows, expands, touches every chest. It is a kiss, the first kiss of infinity, where hunger does not end but spreads. There is no death, only endless consumption, where every soul devours another, devours itself, in an eternal banquet.
Morning does not come. The sun does not rise. The sky is a vast mouth, eyes closed, lips trembling: "More… more…" In the final scene of the story, a small child stands before the ruined Rajbari, a broken torch in hand. Curiosity pulls the child inward, unaware that each step awakens Anik's thousand eyes. His grotesque face emerges from the darkness, whispering, "Come inside… our festival is not over… your hunger is our hunger."
The door creaks open.
The last light of the world goes out.
Hunger is eternal. There is no end, no hero, only darkness that eats and eats and keeps eating.
And you, who are reading this on the other side of the screen. Pause. Listen. Inside your chest, that whisper.
"More…"
The End.