The first light of morning had not yet arrived.
The city's streets were nearly empty at this hour — a few early risers, a few shopkeepers pulling up their shutters, a few people who had not slept through the night.
Riya was among those who had not slept.
She left the house quietly. Her parents were still asleep — exhaustion had pulled them under. The relatives who had gathered through the night had since returned to their own homes. The house held only that particular silence — the kind that had settled in ever since Rana had disappeared. The kind that did not leave.
Riya closed the gate softly behind her.
The air outside was cold. She zipped her jacket closed. Her phone was in her hand, the map already open. Battery at one hundred percent — she had charged it through the night. Specifically for this.
The industrial zone was marked on the screen.
She walked.
The route was familiar and unfamiliar at once. Riya had never come this way alone, this early in the morning. The streets slowly filled — autorickshaws, a few pedestrians, children in school uniforms heading out with their bags. But Riya's attention was somewhere else entirely.
Everything had started at that warehouse.
This was a fact. A clear, undeniable fact. Rana had gone there the first time — and hadn't come home that night. Then he came back — but something about him felt different. Then he disappeared again. And was still gone.
The answer is there. It has to be.
The map directed her — left. Then right. Then down a narrow road leading into the industrial area.
She arrived.
A plot of land.
Empty ground.
She stood there — one second. Two seconds.
No building. No structure. Only open space — loose soil, fragments of broken cement, a leaning electric pole with wires hanging from it.
Something was here once.
Riya looked around. On one side stood an old factory — faded blue paint, a large crack running from the top down. On the other side, rusted containers were stacked — exactly as Rana had once described, casually, in passing conversation.
This is the place.
She stepped forward — into the center of the plot. The ground was uneven. In several places, old construction marks were visible — as though something had stood here that no longer did.
She looked around once more.
No one.
And then —
A sensation.
Faint. Barely there. But clearly present.
As though something inside her was shifting — that familiar feeling she had experienced occasionally, and had always dismissed. Always ignored.
But this time it was different.
Stronger. More directed. Like a compass pointing toward something specific.
Riya stopped.
Why is this feeling stronger here?
She pressed her hand against her chest. Her heartbeat was normal. But there was something else — a pull. As though something was calling to her. From far away. Very far away. But clearly.
She closed her eyes.
The pull intensified.
One direction. Straight downward — as though something existed beneath the surface of the ground. As though this specific place carried its own energy, alive beneath the earth, waiting.
Rana left from here.
Where did he go?
She opened her eyes. Her gaze settled on one specific spot in the ground. No marking. No sign. But the sensation was coming directly from there.
Riya knelt and touched the ground.
And for one moment —
The sensation became so strong that her hand trembled.
Then it faded. Back to normal.
As though a connection had been made — brief, incomplete, but real.
She remained there, sitting on the cold ground. The wind moved around her. The city's morning continued normally just beyond this plot — but in this one place, something was different.
Rana left from here.
And I made it here.
What now? she asked herself.
On the other side — Zyphoros.
Rana's eyes opened.
The blue emergency lights of the base blinked in their slow rhythm. The faint beeping of machines hummed in the background. Everything appeared normal — the same atmosphere, the same aliens working at their consoles, the same broken panels.
But something was missing.
Rana sat up — the box still in his hand, gripped tightly even through sleep. He looked around.
Leader was not there.
He turned to an alien standing nearby. "Where is Leader?"
The alien glanced at him briefly. "He went out, Rana. He had something to attend to."
"When?"
"A little while ago."
Rana considered this for a moment. Then he secured the box in his pocket alongside the gun and moved toward the entrance.
He needed to go outside.
Why — he couldn't have clearly explained. Only a feeling. The kind that came occasionally and refused to be ignored. Something inside said — go out. Now.
But as he reached the entrance —
"Stop."
A soldier. Armored. The same uniform as everyone in the base — but this one was standing directly in Rana's path.
Rana looked at him for a second. "Step aside."
"I can't do that."
"Excuse me?"
The soldier held his position. "We have orders. You are not to be allowed outside."
Rana's eyes narrowed.
"Orders?" His voice was controlled — but something inside had tightened. "Whose orders?"
"Leader's."
A second of silence settled between them.
"I am not a prisoner," Rana said — quietly, but with complete clarity.
"No one said you were."
"Then step aside."
"I can't." The soldier's tone was flat. No anger, no apology. Simply — there were orders. They were to be followed.
Rana took one step forward.
The soldier adjusted his stance — a subtle shift that was clearly a warning.
Rana stopped.
"Do you understand what you're doing?" His voice had sharpened. "I put my life at risk — for this base, for this mission. And you're locking me inside?"
The soldier gave no response.
"I am Zaneath's son," Rana said — and this time, his voice carried something different. Weight. "Do not give me orders."
"I'm not giving you orders. I'm following them."
"Wrong orders."
"That is not my decision to make," the soldier said, holding Rana's gaze without flinching.
Rana drew a slow breath. His hands tightened — then gradually loosened. He knew he could not win this argument with the soldier standing before him. And using physical force against these people — against his own allies — was wrong.
He stepped back inside.
But he did not settle.
He stood against one wall — arms crossed, eyes fixed on the entrance. Something was moving inside him that had no outlet.
Leader gave the order. To keep me here.
Why?
Then footsteps at the entrance.
Leader.
He walked in — entirely normal. Entirely casual. As though returning from a morning walk.
Rana moved directly toward him.
"Why won't you let me go outside?"
Leader looked at him for a moment. Then smiled — that smile which always appeared warm.
"For your safety, Rana."
"My safety?" There was an edge in Rana's voice. "I went to the Astra Building alone yesterday — you weren't concerned about safety then."
"I didn't know how much risk there was then," Leader said calmly. "Now I do. The box is with you — and before I worry about the box, I need to worry about you. That's the only way we'll be able to take our revenge. And if the upper aliens find you —"
"Then I'll deal with them."
"You can't. Not yet." Leader's tone was firm — but still carrying that quality of care. "The weapon hasn't been activated. We don't know the secret of the box. You're vulnerable right now, Rana. And I cannot put you at risk."
There was a great deal inside Rana that wanted to speak. But that feeling — that quiet internal filter — held it back. As though the words were being caught before they could form.
Not here. Not now.
He said nothing.
Leader placed a hand briefly on his shoulder. "Stay here. I have something to take care of. We'll talk properly afterward."
Then he turned and walked out.
Entirely normal. Entirely casual.
Rana stood where he was — alone. The box in his hand.
Something is not right.
Something is very wrong.
The Ovilious Astra Building.
Leader was inside.
He went directly to the ground floor. The wall with the scanner.
But he had not come for the scanner. And he had not come for the vault.
He entered a different space.
An empty room. Smooth walls. A floor undisturbed by dust.
Leader stood there for several seconds. His eyes moved through the space — scanning each corner, each surface.
Then he turned and left.
Whether he found what he came for — whether he confirmed what he needed to confirm — no one knew. That knowledge belonged only to him.
As he emerged from the building —
Someone saw him.
Xyolithian.
He was at a distance, positioned within the shadows. He had been watching when Leader exited. What Leader had gone inside to do — that remained unknown. But he had been there. And now he was returning.
Xyolithian watched Leader the way one watches someone already known — a recognition that carried its own history.
He began to follow — carefully. Maintaining distance. Every step calculated.
Leader walked — straight, consistent, without pausing.
Xyolithian understood that he could not approach Leader directly. There was something between them — something unspoken, something that made a direct confrontation unwise. Perhaps information about Rana could be obtained through him. But not this way. Not yet.
Leader continued — forward, through the spaces between broken structures, past the ruins of collapsed buildings, through the smog.
The base was nearby.
Xyolithian slowed further. Each step more deliberate. The shadows gave him cover.
And then —
Leader turned a corner.
Xyolithian turned a moment later.
And —
An empty path.
Leader was gone.
Xyolithian stopped. He looked straight ahead. Left. Right.
Where did he go?
No door. No building he could have entered. No portal. Only open, broken surface — and smog.
Leader had vanished.
As though he had dissolved into the air itself.
Xyolithian stood completely still. His eyes swept every possible direction.
Nothing.
Inside the base — Leader was already there.
He stood to one side — calm, composed. His eyes were fixed on the direction he had come from.
Inside, a quiet satisfaction moved through him.
Xyolithian. Did you genuinely believe you could follow me without my knowledge?
I have been playing this game for years. Far longer than you.
He exhaled slowly.
The box is with Rana. Rana is here. Within my sight. Under my watch.
And Xyolithian — is outside.
Confused.
A cold, controlled smile — seen by no one.
Rana is mine. And he will remain with me.
Then he turned. And moved — slowly, casually — in Rana's direction.
And on the other side — back on Earth —
Riya was still sitting in the empty plot. The ground was cold. The wind moved around her.
But she had not gotten up.
Something was there. She could feel it — clearly. But she could not understand what.
Then —
Her eyes settled on one spot.
In the ground — right at the center — there was a pattern. So subtle it would be invisible to a casual glance. But Riya was looking carefully now.
The color of the soil was slightly different. A perfect circle — small, almost invisible. As though something had been here for a long time — and its impression remained. The ground had remembered.
This is not natural.
Riya knelt around the circle. She traced its edge slowly with her finger — carefully, deliberately.
And —
A jolt.
From beneath her fingertip — from that spot — a faint current passed through her. Not electrical. Something else. Like static — but warm. Like energy that had been stored, compressed, dormant for a very long time.
Riya pulled her hand back instinctively.
Her heart rate climbed.
What was that?
She tried again — more slowly this time. She brought her finger toward the edge.
The same sensation. Faint. Warm. And this time — something more.
An image.
Just for one second — not in front of her eyes, but inside them. As though a memory existed that did not belong to her. A flash — blue light, a massive structure, a sky that was both purple and blue.
Then it was gone.
Riya sat back — her hand trembling, her breathing unsteady.
What was that?
Then her head grew heavy. Her breathing came faster and faster —
And then everything went dark.
Riya had lost consciousness.
But she was not alone in that place.
Something was there.
Not in human form. Not in alien form. Its presence was simply felt — filled with mystery, strange, and carrying a power that had no name.
And the most unsettling thing —
This was not the first time.
The same presence had saved Riya's life once before. As though it had appointed itself her shadow — always near, always watching — stepping forward at precisely the right moment, and then receding again into whatever it was.
Whatever it was — it knew her.
It had always known her.