Morning sunlight spilled through the thin curtains, painting golden stripes on the wall. Ariv stirred awake, feeling an unusual warmth on his back. His brows furrowed as he pushed himself up from the bed.
(What is this heat…?)
He slipped out of his loose T-shirt and turned to the mirror. The sight froze his breath.
There, on the upper left of his back, shimmered a mark—swirling like a spiral galaxy, faintly glowing with starlight. Tiny specks glimmered within it as though real constellations lived inside his skin.
"What the hell…?" His voice barely escaped. He touched it—warm, pulsing softly like a living thing.
Knock! Knock!
"Ariv! Breakfast is ready!" his mother's voice rang through the door.
Panic shot through him. He pulled his T-shirt back on, then grabbed his black hoodie—the one with the galaxy print—and zipped it up.
(No one can see this. Not Mom… not anyone.)
He stepped out, forcing a smile as his mother greeted him at the table.
"Late again," she scolded lightly, handing him hot parathas.
"Sorry, Ma," he muttered, his mind far away.
---
The day crawled forward in uneasy normalcy. At the school gate, auto-rickshaws honked and vendors shouted, selling steaming samosas and chai. Ariv's friends were already waiting.
"Finally, our ghost king arrives," Neel grinned, balancing his cricket bat on his shoulder. His messy hair and loud voice were impossible to ignore.
"Shut up, Kabir," vaishanavi shot back. Her braided hair swayed as she adjusted her glasses. "Look at him—he's pale."
"Bro, you look like you saw a ghost," Rohit added, slinging his bag lazily. He always had that casual, half-asleep tone.
"I'm fine," Ariv lied, adjusting his hoodie nervously. The mark burned faintly under the fabric.
They walked to class, laughing at Kabir's stupid jokes. But Ariv barely heard them. Every sound felt distant. His eyes drifted to the blue sky outside the classroom window—
And there it was.
The Galaxy Zenith constellation, faint yet visible in broad daylight.
(Why… can I see this?)
A chill crawled down his spine.
---
The bell rang. Classes ended. Evening settled with an orange glow as the group walked home down a narrow road lined with banyan trees. Vendors packed their stalls, dogs barked in the distance.
Then—
The wind died.
Not slowed. Not faded. It stopped.
The air grew heavy like wet sand pressing on their chests. Even the distant sounds vanished.
"Guys…" Anaya's voice trembled. "Why does it feel like… someone's watching us?"
Rishabh looked around, uneasy. "The hell is going on?"
Kabir forced a laugh. "Is this… some prank? Not funny, bro."
But Ariv couldn't answer. His breath hitched. Because he saw it.
From the cracks in the ground, a shadow peeled upward like smoke alive. It twisted, forming a monstrous figure—towering, faceless, with crescent-shaped glowing eyes burning white in the dark. Its body writhed like liquid night, tendrils lashing outward.
Kalarak.
Ariv's heart slammed against his ribs. Every instinct screamed to run, but his legs wouldn't obey.
(That thing… it's real…!)
The creature lunged—silent, swift, claws stretching toward him.
And then—light split the air.
---
A single slash. Blinding, silver-white.
The shadow screamed—a sound like tearing metal—before dissolving into black mist.
Ariv fell backward, gasping.
A figure stood where the beast had been. Tall. Cloaked in dark armor etched with glowing Sanskrit runes. His hair, streaked silver, glinted under the fading sun. In his hand—a blade that shimmered like moonlight.
Ariv stared, speechless.
The man—Rudraen—turned his sharp gaze on him. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm contained in human form.
"You…" His voice was low, rough, edged with disbelief. He stepped closer, boots crunching gravel. "You could see it."
Ariv swallowed hard. "W-what?"
Rudraen's eyes narrowed. His hand brushed against Ariv's shoulder briefly, and his expression hardened.
"…And you carry its scent. The aura of Galaxy Zenith."
The words meant nothing to Ariv, yet they chilled his bones.
"Who… are you? What was that thing?!" Ariv's voice cracked, desperation clawing at his throat.
Rudraen's gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer. Then, in a voice like distant thunder, he said:
"You are not a normal boy."
Before Ariv could react—
He was gone.
Vanished into thin air, like smoke carried by an invisible wind.
---
"Ariv!" Kabir's voice snapped him back. "Who the hell are you talking to?!"
Anaya grabbed his arm. "You're white as a sheet! What happened?!"
Ariv blinked, dazed. He looked around. They saw nothing. Nothing at all.
(They… couldn't see him.)
His hands trembled as he glanced down—
A faint glow pulsed on his wrist. The same swirling mark from his back… now blooming on his skin like living starlight.
And then—
A whisper. Soft. Cold. Inside his head.
"The First Veil… has awakened."
Ariv froze.
Far away, on a throne of shattered stars, Eryon watched the mortal world through a curtain of veils. His voice rumbled like an ancient storm:
"So… it begins."