Chapter 7: When the City Opened Its Eyes
The sky was pale grey.
Not dark.Not bright.
That fragile moment before sunrise.
6:05 AM.
Arjun stood on the rooftop of his apartment building.
Wind sharp.Cold.
Below him, the city was waking up.
Milk vendors.Morning joggers.Office buses starting engines.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Inside his head—
Silence.
Too much silence.
For the first time in days, the whispers had stopped.
He almost felt… calm.
Then his phone vibrated.
6:06 AM.
No caller ID.
He didn't answer.
The screen answered itself.
Live feed.
Not from one camera.
From dozens.
Split screen.
Different parts of the city.
Hospital corridor.Metro station platform.School classroom.Traffic signal.Temple entrance.
All normal.
For three seconds.
Then—
Every person who had ever touched Arjun yesterday—
Screamed.
Simultaneously.
The Spread
At the hospital, the newborn baby arched violently inside the glass crib.
Tiny bones cracking.
Nurses rushed forward—
Too late.
The glass exploded outward.
Not shattered.
Exploded.
The baby's body split open from the chest.
And instead of organs—
Black vapor burst out.
Thin. Fast. Searching.
It entered the nearest nurse through her mouth.
Her body convulsed.
Spine snapping backward.
Her head twisted completely around.
Then she stood still.
Eyes black.
Smiling.
At the metro station—
A man who had slipped in yesterday's blood at the massacre suddenly froze mid-step.
His shadow detached from his feet.
People around him laughed nervously.
Until the shadow stood upright.
Full height.
Then split into two.
Then four.
Each one choosing a different body.
Entering.
Possessing.
Bones breaking echoed across the platform.
One woman's arm twisted backward until it snapped.
But she didn't scream.
She smiled.
Then pushed a stranger onto the tracks as the train entered the station.
The sound—
Metal against bone.
Screaming.
Grinding.
Blood sprayed across the glass walls.
At a school—
A little girl stopped writing mid-sentence.
Her pencil dug deeper into the paper.
Harder.
Harder.
Until it pierced through the desk.
Through her own hand.
Blood dripping.
But she didn't flinch.
Her entire class froze.
Every child slowly turned toward the teacher.
Their shadows stretching unnaturally long across the floor.
The teacher backed away.
"What's wrong with you?"
Thirty small mouths opened at once.
And spoke in one layered voice:
"He opened us."
Rooftop
Arjun dropped the phone.
His knees hit concrete.
"No…"
But he knew.
This wasn't random.
It was networked.
Every victim from yesterday.
Every person who had come into contact.
They were gateways now.
Doors spreading.
He heard footsteps behind him.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He didn't need to turn.
The copy stood there.
The reflection that had stepped out of the mirror.
Perfect version.
No hesitation.
No guilt.
"You see?" the copy said calmly.
"You were only phase one."
Arjun's eyes filled with tears.
"How do I stop it?"
The copy tilted its head.
"You don't."
The city below erupted into chaos.
Smoke rising in multiple areas.
Sirens screaming.
Helicopters circling.
Screams echoing upward.
"Why me?" Arjun whispered.
The copy smiled gently.
"Because you've done this before."
The words hit harder than any horror.
"What?"
The copy stepped closer.
"Not Meera."
"Not the college girl."
"Before that."
Arjun's memories flickered.
Childhood.
Backseat of his father's car.
Rain.
Sharp turn.
Argument.
His father looking back at him for one second too long—
Instead of the road.
Crash.
His mother's body crushed.
Dead.
Arjun had survived.
And in that crash—
Something had entered.
Small.
Weak.
Hungry.
It had waited.
Grown with every regret.
Every ignored warning.
Every near accident.
"You weren't chosen," the copy whispered.
"You were planted."
Government Response
Drones filled the sky.
Emergency broadcasts hijacked every screen.
"Citizens are advised to remain indoors. Violent neurological outbreak suspected—"
The broadcast cut off mid-sentence.
Because the news anchor's shadow moved independently.
Wrapped around her throat.
Snapped her neck live on air.
The signal went black.
Physical Change
Arjun screamed.
His chest burst open.
Not dramatically.
Slowly.
Skin splitting down the center.
Not blood pouring out.
But darkness leaking.
Like ink underwater.
His ribs stretched outward unnaturally.
Inside his chest cavity—
Shapes moved.
Multiple.
Trying to exit.
The copy placed a hand on Arjun's forehead.
And pushed.
Arjun fell backward.
But not onto the rooftop.
He fell—
Into the mirror world.
The Other Side
He landed in a vast empty space.
Endless grey.
In front of him—
Millions of shadowed figures.
Not random.
Organized.
Like an army.
At the center—
Something larger.
Massive.
Humanoid but distorted.
Its body composed of thousands of overlapping faces.
Crying.
Screaming.
Silent.
"We are what remains," the entity spoke without moving.
"We are unfinished deaths."
"We are distracted seconds."
"We are ignored warnings."
Arjun trembled.
"You're accidents."
The entity smiled.
"We are consequences."
Behind him, the copy stepped forward.
"It's time."
The army of shadows began moving.
Not toward Arjun.
But upward.
Toward the sky of that grey world.
Cracks formed.
Light from the real city bleeding through.
They weren't invading.
They were merging.
Final Scene
Back in reality—
At 6:26 AM—
The city sirens stopped abruptly.
Not because danger ended.
Because the people controlling them weren't human anymore.
Across the city—
Thousands stood still.
Eyes black.
Bodies slightly tilted.
Waiting.
At the rooftop—
Arjun's body rose slowly into the air.
Chest open.
Darkness flowing out.
His eyes completely gone.
Just empty black sockets.
The copy looked up at him proudly.
"You're not the door anymore."
Pause.
"You're the bridge."
Below—
Every possessed person looked upward simultaneously.
And smiled.
The sun fully rose.
Bright.
Clear.
And for the first time—
Shadows did not fall behind people.
They stood beside them.