The air around me echoes with the delicate, melodious chirping of tiny birds. A cool breeze brushes against my weary soul—offering, if only briefly, a fleeting sense of peace. And this radiant sun—nothing more than a projection, really—somehow softens the weight of my solitude.
People nearby are soaking in the beauty of this seemingly natural landscape. Smiling faces, gentle laughter… it all resembles a scene painted to soothe the heart. And what about me? I don't know why, but I feel like a blemish on this perfect picture—present among them, yet distinctly apart..
This park lies within Layer 1 of the underground facility. An artificial space—but crafted so meticulously that one would hardly notice the illusion at first glance. A synthetic sun, a fabricated sky… though perhaps the trees and plants are real. Perhaps.
The benches gleam as if brand new. Cleanliness is meticulously maintained throughout. Near the bench where I sit, a few pigeons flutter about. Thankfully, none of them have disturbingly human-like heads.
On one hand, my mind wrestles with the darkness of suicidal thoughts. On the other, Nyra sits beside me, quietly enjoying a chocolate cone, utterly at ease.. Was she sent here to help with my mental health—or simply to enjoy an ice cream outing?
She remains quietly engrossed in her dessert, as if the world holds no burdens at all. Is she ever going to speak, or is she just going to keep eating like this?
Then, suddenly, Nyra glances at me and asks plainly, "Do you want some?"
"No, you go ahead," I reply, waving her off. Without a word, she returns to her ice cream as though nothing had interrupted her.
Who the hell does that manager think he is? Saying I can't see Anya unless they "trust" me? Who are they to decide what I can or can't do?
And that wasn't even the end of it. He went on to say that my training will begin in a few days. That I'll be prepared for missions. Missions? What am I, a military officer or some kind of superhero?
My life has become a mere kite in their hands. They let it soar at will, and just as easily, they cut its string.
And my friends… the ones who died… What about them? No one even mentions their names. Their bodies weren't recovered. Their families deserved at least that much.
They're all the same. And this girl… she's probably just like them. I can't bring myself to trust anyone anymore.
Sigh… I've become nothing more than a servant to these people. A man who is forced to obey—whether his heart agrees or not.
After enduring a string of bitter experiences, Ayaan had been sent to the park with Nyra, in hopes that he could unwind a little before his training began. His gaze remained fixed on the sky above, yet his mind wandered elsewhere.
Nyra, meanwhile, finished the last bite of her ice cream, pressing her hands to her cheeks with delight. "That was amazing," she said, visibly pleased.
Ayaan's attention, however, was still lost in the artificial sky, when suddenly a man approached them—a familiar face, someone Ayaan had met before.
"How are you both doing?" the man asked with a warm smile as he came closer.
"Hey, Uncle! You're here?" Nyra's eyes sparkled with recognition.
"You two were sitting here so quietly, I thought I'd come over and say hello," the man said, now standing near the bench.
"Ayaan, son, is everything alright? How are you feeling?" he asked, this time turning to Ayaan.
Ayaan didn't respond. His eyes were still locked on the clouds above, as if he had gotten lost somewhere deep within them.
"Why isn't he saying anything?" the man asked, now turning to Nyra.
Nyra glanced at Ayaan and tried to stifle a laugh. "He's just a little insane right now," she joked, then affectionately pinched his arm.
"Ouch!" Ayaan flinched. "Are you crazy?" he snapped, annoyed.
"Someone came to see you—at least have the decency to talk to them!" Nyra said stubbornly.
That snapped Ayaan out of it. His eyes shifted toward the man, and in an instant, recognition and a smile returned to his face.
"Oh! Uncle… you're the samosa uncle, right?" Ayaan's face lit up with genuine warmth.
"Sorry, I didn't recognize you at first," Ayaan said.
"No worries, son," the man replied kindly. "You seem… really worn out."
At those words, a hint of sadness crossed Ayaan's face. He lowered his head. "Yeah… it's just…"
A moment of silence settled between them. Then, suddenly, Nyra jabbed him again.
"Ow! What now?" Ayaan snapped, recoiling from the pinch.
"You talk like that—with that gloomy tone—and it's depressing. It's not necessary to keep revisiting the past. Try letting go, just once."
At that, Ayaan's expression darkened. His eyes flared with rising anger.
"Let go?" he murmured, before repeating it louder—his voice sharp. "Let go?! You really think I can just forget both my friends' deaths? Those experiments? That pain? You think it's that easy?"
"No! That's not what I meant…" Nyra said quickly, clearly shaken.
"Whatever you meant doesn't matter. You're just like the rest of them. Pretending to care, but really, you don't give a damn!" Ayaan's voice rose with fury. "You're a liar—just like all of them!"
His words hit Nyra like a dagger. Her eyes welled with tears as her fists clenched tight.
"Fine! Do whatever you want, alone! I don't even want to see your face anymore!"
With that, Nyra stood from the bench and stormed off in anger.
"Nyra, wait—please, listen!" the uncle tried to stop her, but she walked away without even glancing back.
Ayaan's breath quickened, his chest heaving. His eyes, now filled with guilt, drifted to the ground.
"What was that, son?" the uncle asked softly. "That poor girl was only trying to care for you… and you lashed out at her like that?"
"No, Uncle… but she should've thought before saying something like that…"
The uncle's tone grew gentler. "Son, she's only eleven. All she wanted was for you not to stay trapped in that same pain—again and again."
Hearing those words, Ayaan's anger slowly began to melt. The hardness in his expression softened.
"Go on, son," the man said gently. "Talk to her calmly. Apologize. It'll make her feel better."
"Sorry, Uncle… you're right. I let my anger get the better of me," Ayaan admitted, his voice quieter now.
"Well, at least you recognize your mistake," the man replied with a warm smile. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out—
A chocolate bar.
"Here, take this. Give it to her. Maybe it'll help you earn her forgiveness."
"Oh, chocolate!" Ayaan's lips curved into a small smile as he accepted it. "Thank you, Uncle."
"But Ayaan," the man's tone suddenly grew serious, "there's something important I need to tell you."
The shift in his voice caught Ayaan's attention.
"As soon as your sister regains consciousness… you and she should leave this place. Go somewhere far away."
Ayaan's face turned somber. "Alright, Uncle," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you."
The man gave a faint, knowing smile.
"Oh, and Uncle… one more thing," Ayaan asked, looking up. "What's your real name?"
The man chuckled quietly, trying to hold back a laugh. "My name? You can just call me Mr. Pathak."
"Mr. Pathak?" Ayaan smiled. "Alright then. Bye, Mr. Pathak."
With the chocolate in hand, Ayaan turned and walked away—heading off in search of Nyra.
At 1st Layer
Stepping out of the park, Ayaan walked alone through the first layer's hallway. Regret gnawed at him over the harsh words he'd said to Nyra.
"How could I say all that to her?" he muttered under his breath. "She was only trying to help…"
Yet alongside the guilt was a growing unease—" Even if I wanted to find her now… where would I even start?"
He paused at every door along the corridor, hesitating to enter any of them. When he reached Nyra's personal cabin, he found it empty. Letting out a long sigh, he turned away.
As he passed the assistant's office, his gaze lingered briefly on the manager's door… but he kept walking. 'Where could Nyra have gone?' he wondered.
Just then, he heard loud thud-thud-thud noises coming from a nearby room—like someone relentlessly pounding a punching bag.
He stopped.
The sound was coming from a sealed training room tucked between the assistant's and manager's quarters. The door was slightly ajar. Ayaan quietly peeked inside.
A punching bag swung violently, suspended from the ceiling. In one corner of the room lay dumbbells, exercise mats, and various pieces of combat gear. But Ayaan's eyes ignored all of that—drawn instead to the girl at the center of the storm.
She had short, fiery orange hair. Wearing only a sports bra and athletic shorts, her body was lean, powerful. Her face was beautiful, yet across her cheeks ran tiger-stripe markings. They looked like painted war streaks at first glance… but far too real.
Ayaan could only stare.
Every punch she threw radiated with fury, yet her form was flawless—controlled, calculated. A toned frame, a calm and composed face... and beneath it all, a storm waiting to break loose. Each punch, each kick sent shockwaves through the bag.
But then—her eyes locked onto his.
Without breaking eye contact, she launched a final kick. It landed with such force that the hook securing the bag gave way—and the entire thing came crashing down.
Right onto Ayaan.
"AAH!" he cried out as the heavy bag knocked him to the ground, pinning him underneath.
After some flailing, considerable awkwardness, and an equal measure of embarrassment, Ayaan managed to shove the bag off and dusted himself off while catching his breath.
Then she appeared before him.
Arms folded, posture rigid and commanding, her sharp gaze pierced right through him—like she could see straight into his soul.
"Staring silently at someone like that? Not exactly polite," she said coldly, her voice crisp and unforgiving.
Ayaan looked up at her, then steadied himself. "No, I wasn't—I mean, I was just trying to figure out what this room was."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And who exactly are you? I don't recall seeing you around here." Her tone was sharp, laced with suspicion—as if trust was a foreign concept to her.
"I… I'm—" Ayaan began, but before he could finish, she seized him by the collar with both hands and, in one swift motion, lifted him off the ground.
His feet dangled in the air.
Her strength was staggering—effortless.
"Answer me!" she barked, eyes blazing. "Who are you? Are you one of my enemies?"
There was a primal intensity in her expression, a wild instinct that suggested she might strike at any moment.
Ayaan couldn't speak— Her grip on his collar was so tight, it nearly cut off his air. He struggled to break free, but her hold was like stone—unyielding and immovable.
Just then, a familiar voice echoed through the room. "Luna, stop! Put him down—now!"
Nyra had arrived.
The moment Luna heard her sister's voice, she immediately let go. Ayaan dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.
Nyra rushed to his side, grabbing his hand to help him up. "Are you okay, Ayaan?"
Panting, Ayaan replied, "Yeah… barely breathing, but still alive."
Nyra turned sharply to glare at Luna, her voice edged with anger. "Luna! Have you completely lost your manners? Is that any way to talk—or treat—someone?"
Luna rolled her eyes, replying with a dismissive pout, "He was staring at me. I didn't like it."
Nyra glanced at Ayaan, then let out a small laugh. "Okay, fine—he was staring. He's kind of a troublemaker… I know him well."
Annoyed, Ayaan snapped, "Hey! Whose side are you on—mine or hers?"
Luna's eyes sharpened as she said coldly, "Watch your tone with my sister. Say one wrong word, and I'll break your jaw."
Ayaan blinked in surprise. "Sister? She's your sister?"
Nyra shrugged casually. "Oh! Forgot to mention that part… this is Luna, my older sister."
Luna smirked sarcastically. "Pleasure's all yours."
Nyra stifled a laugh and added, "She only looks angry on the outside. Deep down, she's soft. So don't tease her too much."
Ayaan, inwardly, could only think: 'What a crazy woman...'
Nyra turned back to Luna. "And Luna, this is Mr. Ayaan."
Luna rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, yeah. I've heard of him. Just never saw his face."
Nyra nudged her with a grin. "Well? What do you think of his face?"
Trying not to laugh, Luna said, "Looks just like a monkey," and burst out laughing.
Ayaan, irritated, said loudly, "Excuse me! I'm standing right here!"
Luna turned to leave. "I'm starving. I'm heading to the canteen. Catch you later, Nyra."
Ayaan watched her walk away and muttered to himself, "Man, that girl's insanely strong…"
Then he turned toward Nyra and said, "Nyra, I'm really glad you showed up…"
But as he looked closer, he noticed—Nyra was still sulking, her arms crossed, lips pursed in a pout.
Ayaan softened his voice. "Umm… Nyra, hey… listen…"
Nyra turned away, pouting. "Hmph! Who am I to say anything to you? You'll just yell again. Better if we don't talk at all."
To melt her annoyance, Ayaan pulled something from his pocket. "Here, you must be hungry," he said, offering her a chocolate bar—her favorite.
"CHOCOLATE?" Nyra's eyes lit up. She squealed with joy and immediately broke a piece off, munching it with an excited "nom nom nom" sound.
Ayaan watched her with a soft smile. As she chewed, her cheeks puffed out and a little chocolate smeared the corner of her lips. Now and then, she let out a satisfied "mmm… yumm…" as she enjoyed the treat.
"You eat just like a squirrel," Ayaan said with a laugh.
Still chewing, Nyra grinned and said with a full mouth, "Fine, you're forgiven."
Ayaan chuckled. "Glad to hear that."
Silently, he thought to himself, 'Winning her over was child's play.'
Later, the two of them began walking toward the manager's office. Ayaan looked a little tense, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. Nyra noticed it immediately.
Without a word, she gently took his hand.
Ayaan felt the warmth of her soft palm, and glanced at her.
She met his gaze and gave him a smile—one filled with love and quiet courage.
Ayaan returned a small smile of his own. In that moment, some of his fear eased. Her hand in his, and that comforting smile, gave him strength. It reminded him of his little sister.
Without exchanging a word, the two kept walking toward their destination. Between them was a quiet bond—small, yet deeply comforting for Ayaan.
At manager's cabin
Ayaan and Nyra each settled into their respective seats, and the manager, too, took his place with composed authority.
"I don't know why, but whenever I'm in front of this man, I sense a distinct aura… as if, at any moment, he could kill me," Ayaan thought silently.
To him, the manager was a formidable presence—one that constantly reminded him of his own helplessness in front of such power.
Suddenly, Nyra sprang from her seat and plopped into the manager's lap.
"Grandpa!" she exclaimed affectionately.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm in the middle of something important. Don't sit on me in front of everyone," the manager replied with a gentle chuckle.
Watching the two share a light moment, Ayaan allowed himself a faint smile. A hint of relief began to wash over him.
Just then, the manager extended his hand toward Ayaan.
"I never told you my name, did I? I'm Dev."
Ayaan shook his hand and said politely, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"But Grandpa," Nyra interrupted, her eyes curious, "why did you suddenly call us here?"
"Ah, yes! I needed to speak with Ayaan privately. Nyra, could you give us a moment? I'll explain everything to you afterward."
"Alright, Grandpa," she replied and left the room promptly.
As she departed, she cast a small smile back at Ayaan before quietly stepping out.
Now only Ayaan and the manager remained.
"How are you feeling now? Any aftereffects from the smoke?" the manager inquired.
"No... nothing unusual so far," Ayaan replied calmly.
"I see. I can only imagine what you've been through—losing your friends, seeing your sister in that state... you've endured more than most," Dev said, with a trace of sorrow.
Ayaan's eyes dimmed slightly, and he responded only with a quiet, "Yeah…"
"Your sister still needs some time to fully recover. But…" the manager rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I give you my word—she'll wake up soon."
Ayaan's head shot up, hope lighting his eyes. "You mean that?"
"I do. In today's world, nothing is impossible. We've advanced enough to bring anyone back from the brink. So, Ayaan, you don't need to worry about your sister anymore."
Tears welled in Ayaan's eyes. "Thank God…" he whispered, wiping them away. Then he asked, "And... what about my friends? Did you find their bodies?"
"Not yet. We've thoroughly investigated the area, but so far... nothing," the manager replied, his tone somber.
Ayaan's face fell. He looked down again, disheartened. "So… still no news."
"We've informed their families of everything. I doubt they'll ever be able to bear the pain completely, but we've offered them financial support. After all, they were our people too," the manager added gently.
Ayaan was at a loss for words. Still, he asked, "Did they ask about me?"
After a moment's pause, the manager answered, "As far as they know... you died along with them. That's why we haven't told them the truth yet."
"Oh…" Ayaan muttered under his breath.
"You're part of our team now, so I don't want to keep any secrets from you," Dev said.
"Secrets?" Ayaan looked puzzled.
"Yes. Let me tell you about the organization. We're called the Trinity Foundation. Our mission is to locate and contain unknown entities—creatures that pose a new and dangerous threat to the human world."
"We call them Asuras. Do you know what that word means?"
"Asuras? Aren't they demons?" Ayaan asked, uncertain.
"Exactly. Demons that stand against the divine and spread chaos in the world."
"So far, we've captured ten of them," Dev said.
"Only ten?" Ayaan asked in surprise.
"I know it sounds like a small number, but we've done this in just two years," he replied with a proud smile. Then his expression darkened slightly. "We don't have much time left. To survive the coming storm, we need to capture as many Asuras as we can. Otherwise… this world will fall."
A chill ran through Ayaan's veins. "The world… will end? What do you mean?"
"It's a long story," Dev said, his eyes piercing through Ayaan. "But first, I want you to complete your first mission. After that, I'll tell you everything."
"Mission?" Ayaan echoed, startled.
"Yes," the manager replied, taking a deep breath. "We're facing an emergency. We'll have to skip your training. You're going on a mission now—with the Field Reapers."
At this, fear flickered in Ayaan's eyes. His palms began to sweat, and he stood up abruptly. "You're kidding, right?"
There was no amusement in Dev's gaze. Only cold, impartial truth. "I'm not joking, Ayaan. Don't forget what I told you: until we're certain we can trust you, you won't be allowed to see your sister."
Ayaan fell silent, but inside, his heart was in turmoil.
"I'm giving you a chance," Dev continued. "Your task is only to observe. Stay out of danger. Report everything directly to me."
"If the mission is successful, you'll officially become a part of the Field Reapers. But," he paused, his eyes hardening slightly, "if you lose control or attack without reason—we'll have no choice but to eliminate you."
A heavy silence filled the room. Ayaan clenched his fists. "And if I refuse to go?"
Dev's expression remained calm, but the burden in his eyes was evident.
"Then your sister remains in her current state. And you… will be imprisoned here for the rest of your life."
Ayaan's breathing quickened. "So… I don't have a choice?"
His throat felt parched. Restlessness and anger surged inside him, coiling like a storm. He bowed his head low.
Then, quietly, he spoke. "Alright, sir. I'm ready."
Dev looked at him for a long moment, as if apologizing with his eyes. "Forgive me, Ayaan."
Suddenly—
BAM!
The door burst open. The loud sound made them both jump, their eyes darting toward the entrance.
Three figures emerged from the shadows beyond.
A familiar smile crept onto the manager's face. "Ah, so the three of you are here."
The first man—muscular, confident, and radiating power with every step—grinned. "Manager, how long were you planning to keep us waiting to meet the new guy?"
The second—quiet, wearing a white T-shirt, his long hair falling over calm eyes—seemed absorbed in a world of his own. His gaze remained fixed on a wall, indifferent to the rest.
And the third…
Luna. Nyra's elder sister.
Ayaan's breath caught the moment he saw her. "You…?"
In Luna's eyes lingered the same old secret—as though she longed to speak, but could not. Her expression softened slightly at the sight of Ayaan, yet she avoided his gaze.
The manager stepped between them and looked at Ayaan.
"Ayaan, these three will lead you. They are… the Field Reapers."
-THE END