Avinash was just another college bachelor, leading a life that could be called normal—neither too good nor too bad. But everything began to shift after his 19th birthday. Strange dreams started haunting him. Dreams that felt more like a summons—calling him toward something far beyond the ordinary, something he was destined for.
He tried to ignore them.
Life moved on. He found love, lost it, faced challenges. Yet, his sheer talent and determination made him rise above the rest. No obstacle could truly hold him back. He became one of the most formidable figures in his world. But even as he stood at the top, something was always missing. The peace he longed for, the leave he silently begged the world for—it never came.
He had come to accept a truth: the world may seem cruel to common eyes, but the world of the powerful is far more brutal. In that world, battles are fought in silence. Terror wears a smile. Submission is demanded, and rebellion is crushed without mercy. To stay free, to protect others, one needs more than strength—one needs absolute power.
Through it all, through the hurt and hollow victories, he grew. But inside, something was breaking.
Eleven years passed. That energetic boy was now a shadow—a man worn by fate. On the top of his city's tower, with suicidal thoughts circling his mind like vultures, Avinash stood ready to fall into the abyss.
And then… a phone call.
A call from someone whose word was law, above even the will of gods. A man whose very presence could shake the highest of powers, now sounded frantic. On the other side of the line, Avinash heard trembling hands, muffled sounds—smacking, crashing—chaos.
Then… a voice.
A voice he hadn't heard in years.
A voice that once lit his world with color.
"Run."
And then silence.
Then more sounds. Panic. Tension. And then, softly—
"Avinash… I'm sorry," the woman said.
His heart skipped. "Lavender? What's going on? What were those sounds? Where are you?"
"It was a mistake. I didn't mean to call. The noise… it's nothing. Take care of yourself, okay?"
"Wait—Lav—"
But the call was already cut.
And with that, the darkness of fate cracked—if only for a moment.
Not because of what she said… but because of how it was said. The voice—it wasn't hers. The sound carried something eerie beneath its softness, like a calm ocean hiding a storm beneath. In that fleeting moment of what seemed like peace, something inside Avinash clicked. A cold prickle crawled down his spine.
This wasn't normal.
She calling him wasn't normal.
The voice wasn't normal.
The noises in the background weren't normal.
His instincts screamed. And without thinking twice, he bolted from the top of his tower. Grabbing his phone, he dialed.
"Hello? Hello? Ravi—listen to me. I'm sending you a number. I need you to check where she is right now. Also—get me everything on what's happening in the Kukreja family. Urgently."
He was already running toward his car when his phone buzzed. A message—coordinates. Almost instantly, another call came in. He picked up.
"As you said, master…" came Ravi's voice on the other end, steady but tense.
"The number you sent—her phone is switched off. But using her last location, traffic cam tracking, and surveillance footage from nearby checkpoints, we've pinned her down. She's about 20 kilometers away, northeast of the city. In a place that just emerged recently… a forest. They're calling it the Kalgiri."
Avinash's heart sank.
Kalgiri?
A forest that shouldn't be there.
He didn't wait. Slamming the car door, he started the engine. Panic in his veins.
Something was wrong—terribly wrong. And he was already too late.
After several hours
At Night. 11:55 PM. On a cold mountain cliff.
Avinash Raijada stood near the edge, the broken remains of a bridge before him—a void between two cliffs. Behind him, a sleek black car sat idling, its headlights cutting through the mist. Not far from the vehicle, a group of armed men stood—some with rifles, others empty-handed but no less dangerous. On the ground around them, nearly thirty men lay unconscious or dead, the scent of gunpowder thick in the air.
The remaining men watched the car, tense and cautious, fingers twitching on triggers. The silence was shattered by a shout.
"Why are you doing this, Avinash Raijada?!" one of the men roared. His voice echoed into the cold night.
"She was our daughter. And we were sworn enemies. Why would you help her elope with that man? Why would you tarnish our name like this?! ANSWER ME!"
From among the men stepped Bhairav—a towering figure, 6'2", muscular, dressed in a bloodstained wedding sherwani, a gun gripped in his hand. His every step was calculated, quiet, dangerous. He walked toward the car, eyes never leaving it, as if expecting something—or someone—to emerge.
Then came a dry laugh.
"Bhairav…"
A chuckle, then a painful cough.
The sound of blood dripping. Liquid hitting dirt.
A man emerged, swaying, barely standing. Blood soaked his side, bullet wounds riddled across his torso. And yet he smiled through the pain. Avinash.
"Because... he and she are my friends."
His voice was hoarse, trembling, but unbroken.
"They are my everything. And if they are happy… then I am too. Isn't that true for you as well, Bhairav?"
A stunned silence followed.
The gun in Bhairav's hand trembled. His eyes, fierce a moment ago, now brimmed with tears.
"How… How could you do this, Avinash?" he shouted, stepping back. "How?! You're the one getting hurt the most… yet you still… unite them?"
The wind howled as if echoing his heartbreak. And in that moment, amidst the blood, betrayal, and broken loyalties—it was not victory or defeat that hung in the air.
It was love.
The kind that wounds deeper than any bullet.
The kind that sacrifices silently.
11:56 PM – On the mountain cliff, moments before midnight
Avinash smiled, despite the blood soaking his shirt and the cold wind brushing against his wounds.
"Didn't you say," he murmured, eyes fixed on Bhairav, "that everything—everything—is worth it for her happiness? I've always lived by that. As a friend, I vowed to put them first. So why not now?"
His voice was calm. Firm. Final.
The men behind Bhairav looked at each other in confusion, unable to understand the quiet storm unfolding between the two. One of them stepped forward, whispering, "What... what are they talking about?"
But before the tension could settle, Bhairav's tone changed—rising, raw, fierce.
"Well, you know I wouldn't ever fall behind you. Not in friendship. Not even now."
He grinned, but tears still brimmed in his eyes.
"I'll prove again why I am not your rival… but your equal. After all… you're my idol."
And then—he screamed. A roar from the depths of his chest.
He spun around.
And opened fire—
—on his own men.
The first two dropped before they understood what was happening.
Panic erupted. Blood sprayed across the rocky cliff.
Screams tore through the night. Chaos. Shock. Confusion.
But not everyone froze. A surviving guard shouted, raised his weapon—
Bang!
A bullet struck Bhairav's shoulder. Then his hand. His gun clattered to the ground.
Another shot—this one aimed straight for his heart—
But someone else moved.
A figure pushed Bhairav out of the bullet's path.
Avinash.
The bullet struck him square in the chest, knocking him backward. He hit the van behind him with a brutal thud, blood gushing from his mouth.
Bhairav stumbled back, stunned. His ears ringing, heart pounding.
Then—a voice. Inside his head. Deep. Commanding. Not human.
> "Jump from the cliff… Now."
He didn't think. His body moved instinctively.
He leapt.
11:58 PM.
BOOM.
The mountain cliff exploded in a hellstorm of fire and fury.
---
11:59 PM – After the blast
The smoke hung thick in the air.
Ash rained down like snow.
Scattered across the cliff were twisted bodies—some dead, others broken, screaming in pain. Severed limbs. Mangled flesh. Agony everywhere.
And amid it all—one sound that didn't belong.
A laugh.
Faint. Raspy.
Wounded… but happy.
From within the smoke, a figure.
Burnt. Barely alive. A shell of what he once was. Limbs torn, body scorched.
Avinash.
Still breathing. Still smiling.
He chuckled through the blood, a bittersweet sound that faded as he whispered:
> "I'll miss you… love."
Darkness. Endless and cold.
Avinash floated—formless—suspended in nothing.
And then, they came.
Hundreds of voices. Whispering. Chanting. Screaming. Crying.
> "Come to us, boy…"
"Your destiny awaits…"
"We are calling you…"
Their voices weren't human.
They sounded like ghosts screaming through broken throats, like demons weeping in madness. Each syllable cut through his soul.
He'd heard them before.
In dreams. In visions.
Too many times to count.
But this time… it felt different.
This time, they were closer.
This time… they were real.
He screamed—
His body convulsing—
As if his very soul was being torn apart by their call.
And then—
Everything went silent.
12:00 AM.