The park was silent at 4 AM.
Cold mist hugged the ground, and the old wooden gazebo stood in the center like a forgotten relic. Paras walked toward it, breath shaky, footsteps uneven.His mind was still fighting itself — fear, anger, curiosity, and something deeper he couldn't name.
As he stepped up the creaking stairs, he froze.
Someone was already there.
Two silhouettes.
Sparsh.And beside him —
Ananth.
But not the Ananth from the mansion — the quiet, stiff assistant who spoke only when asked.
This Ananth stood straight, still, almost commanding… like someone who belonged in the darkness before sunrise.
He looked up.
A slow, thin smile touched his face — polite, but carrying a weight Paras didn't understand.
"So," Ananth said, voice calm but cutting, "you finally arrived, you careless boy."
Paras clenched his jaw. "Don't start with that."
Sparsh turned slightly. "You're a bit late."
"Don't you start either."
Ananth chuckled once — too soft to be friendly, too controlled to be casual.
"Good morning, young master," he said with a mysterious warmth. "Come."
Sparsh gestured to a bench."Sit."
"No," Paras snapped. "I want answers."
Ananth's tone sharpened.
"It is better," he said, "if you don't shout in a place like this."
The mist swirled strangely at that exact moment — like his words carried weight.
The discussion began.
Paras exhaled, gathering courage."What was that… last night?"
Sparsh and Ananth exchanged a look.
A look that said:It's time.
Ananth stood — hands behind his back, posture sharp.
"Boy," he said, not like an assistant but like someone far above Paras, "the world is far larger… and far darker… than your family ever told you."
Paras stepped back instinctively.
Sparsh lowered his voice, steady, controlled."You're asking what the dreams mean."
Paras swallowed.
"Why the ring feels heavy," Sparsh continued."Why you sense someone watching you.Why you saw… that thing."
A cold knot twisted in Paras's stomach.
"You know about that?" His voice cracked. "What I saw last night — that… thing coming out of you—"
Ananth lifted his hand, silencing him.
"That was not supposed to happen," he said. "But it proves your awakening has begun."
Paras's heartbeat went wild."What awakening?! I'm asking clearly — what is going on?!"
Sparsh moved.
One step.Two.
Too fast.
Suddenly he was in front of Paras, placing a firm hand on his chest — not violent like last night, but uncomfortably certain.
Paras gasped.
The same gesture.The same terror.
Sparsh whispered:
"Antahkaran."
The air shivered.
The world trembled.
A sharp ripple shot down Paras's spine, icy and electric, as if someone reached inside him and checked something buried, something sleeping.
He staggered back.
"What… what did you DO?!"
Ananth's voice drifted behind him, smooth and quiet."Relax, young master. He's only verifying."
"Verifying WHAT?!"
Sparsh's expression softened — barely.
"To see if you're ready for the truth."
Paras's breath shook."I'm done with riddles! Tell me straight — who are you?!"
Sparsh didn't blink.
"I am… something you will understand soon."
Paras shouted, anger bursting through fear."That's not an answer! Who the hell ARE you?!"
And then—
The temperature dropped.
Shadows stretched unnaturally under their feet, twisting like silent whispers.
Paras froze.
Behind Sparsh…a second shape formed.
Tall.Warped.Hollow-eyed.
A creature made of torn darkness stitched with pure sorrow.
The Spirit of Despair.
Its smile was a crack in nothingness.Its fingers dripped shadows.Its eyes — empty voids — stared directly into Paras's soul.
Paras couldn't breathe.
The gazebo went silent.
And—
Blink.
It vanished.
No trace.No movement.No explanation.
Paras collapsed against a wooden pillar, gasping, drenched in cold sweat.
"What… WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Ananth answered without blinking."You saw what very few humans ever see."
Paras shook his head, panicking."No… no no… this isn't real—"
Sparsh's voice softened, almost regretful."I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to show you that. Not this early."
Paras's voice cracked."THEN WHY DID YOU?!"
Ananth answered.
"Because you asked who he was."
Paras trembled."What does that even mean…?"
Ananth stepped closer — and his presence felt overwhelming, ancient.
"Listen, boy," he said, his tone no longer that of a servant. "You will learn these things in time. Until then… follow Sparsh. He is your guide.At least until you become capable of bearing the truth."
Paras blinked, stunned."My… what?"
Sparsh looked away."Tomorrow. I'll start teaching you. Last night — you weren't ready."
Paras's heartbeat thundered."Ready for WHAT—?"
Ananth cut him off, voice soft… but the words were terrifying.
"For the world," he said, "that has already begun to break."
Paras froze.
His hands shook.His throat tightened.His vision blurred.
Ananth's hand rested gently on his shoulder — the kindest he had ever been.
"Go home," he said. "Rest. Forget what you saw… for now."
Paras opened his mouth to speak —
—but the world tilted.
The gazebo blurred.The mist stretched.Voices echoed like distant bells.
Then—
Black.
Paras jolted awake in his bed.
Breath ragged.Shirt soaked in sweat.Heart thundering in panic.
"What… happened…?"
He grabbed his chest.
Not a dream.
Not a nightmare.
Something real.Something terrifying.Something awakening.
His hand tingled.Then warmed.
The ring.
It glowed softly — gentle, protective — like someone comforting him.
"…Grandpa…?"
The warmth pulsed again.
Slow.Reassuring.
Paras closed his eyes, shaking.
Not peaceful.Not safe.
Just quiet…the kind of quiet that comes when the world is holding its breath.
He lay back, exhausted.And finally drifted into a deep, heavy darkness.
Not rest.
A pause.
A silence before the next storm.
The world faded from Paras's vision as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Darkness swallowed everything.
His breath steadied, his fingers loosened, and the ring glowed faintly on his chest as he lay sleeping in his room.
But the story did not end there.
Not in the park.
Not in the old gazebo.
Because once Paras vanished from the scene —
two figures remained.
Sparsh.And Ananth.
The mist shifted around them like it was listening.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Sparsh kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot where Paras had stood. His jaw was tight, shoulders stiff, eyes unreadable.
Ananth watched him quietly — too quietly.
Then he broke the silence.
"I did not expect it," Ananth murmured, voice soft but edged. "For the pact to weaken this fast…"
Sparsh didn't look at him.His jaw tightened."He wasn't supposed to feel anything yet."
Ananth nodded slowly, hands folded behind his back."No, he wasn't."
Sparsh's fingers twitched."It responded to him. Before I could hold it back."
Ananth's eyes shifted — calm, analytical.
"Or perhaps…"His gaze lowered."…it responded to the ring."
Sparsh said nothing.
A breeze rattled the old wood overhead.
Ananth stepped closer, eyeing Sparsh the way someone studies a dangerous truth.
"The pace is shifting," he murmured. "Faster than predicted."