Light swallowed the courtyard.
Not warm. Not cleansing.
White—too white—like memory burning.
Manraj wasn't falling. He wasn't standing. He wasn't anywhere.
He was being pulled.
Pulled through a tunnel of soundless light… pulled toward something that had been waiting far too long.
A whisper followed him.
"…the original you."
The words echoed like a scar remembering how it was made.
Then—
A surface.
Cold.
Stone.
Manraj's knees hit the ground hard.
He gasped, grabbing at the cracked floor—
—but the courtyard was gone.
Completely.
He was alone.
No Zoya. No Azhar. No temple.
Only a white-tinted darkness, stretching in every direction like a thought that couldn't decide its shape.
Manraj staggered upright.
"Zoya?"
Silence.
"Azhar?"
Nothing.
Then—
A second voice answered.
Not behind him. Not around him.
Inside him.
A voice that sounded like his but older, quieter, tired—
"Took you long enough."
Manraj froze.
"What—who—?"
Another shape formed in front of him.
A silhouette first. Then light. Then details—
A boy.
His age.
His height.
His face.
His eyes.
White.
Not glowing. Not burning. Simply knowing.
Manraj's heart kicked painfully.
"…you're me," he whispered.
The other him tilted his head.
"No," the reflection said. "You're me. I'm the one who came first."
The ground trembled beneath them, like the world had opinions about which version was correct.
Manraj stepped back.
The reflection stepped forward—every movement too fluid, too controlled.
"I'm what they sealed," the boy said softly.
"I'm what fire replaced."
A sick chill spiraled down Manraj's spine.
"What are you?"
The reflection smiled faintly.
"The element they were afraid of."
The air cracked.
A memory slammed into Manraj's mind— a ritual circle, white fire, a cage of runes, a god's hand tearing something apart, Azhar screaming his name—
He staggered.
"No—no, stop—"
But the reflection kept walking.
"Fire was the substitute," he said.
"Shadow was the consequence."
"Silence was the accident."
He stopped inches from Manraj.
"And I… was the intention."
The white stone beneath them pulsed.
Manraj's voice trembled.
"What is your name?"
The reflection lifted its eyes, and the world dimmed.
"My name… is the one they erased from your spine the night they broke us."
He leaned in.
"And I want it back."
A crack split the space behind them.
Zoya's scream bled through the tear—
"MANRAJ!"
The reflection's hand clamped around Manraj's wrist.
Manraj felt heat surge in his chest—fire panicking, thrashing.
The reflection squeezed.
"Fire cannot save you from me," he whispered.
"I am the element that wasn't fire."
The white world shattered.