I felt cold… but what kind of cold was this?
My eyelids were heavy, my thoughts clouded. Slowly, consciousness began to return.
As I opened my eyes, the world around me felt alien. Steel walls, a metallic ceiling—it was like I had woken up inside some kind of airtight chamber. No windows. No doors. Just one large crystal panel in front of me—polished like a mirror, and on the other side of it, a few figures stood watching.
Their faces were unfamiliar. Three people—one who looked like a manager, and two others in thick, astronaut-like PPE suits. White masks. Reflective goggles. On their suits, a logo marked them as part of the Foundation, each tagged with a number: 1 and 2.
They were talking—gesturing with their hands, their lips moving—but…
No sound reached me.
I tried to make sense of it all… and that's when I realized—I couldn't move. Not even an inch.
I looked down.
My arms and legs were strapped tightly to a cold metal chair. The restraints were thin but unbreakably firm, binding me in place like I was some kind of test subject.
Panic surged through me. My breath quickened.
"What is this place? Why have they brought me here?!"
I tried to scream, but only a broken gasp escaped my throat—like the voice had died before it could reach my lips.
I thrashed violently. With every jerk, the straps scraped against my skin, biting deeper. It hurt, but I didn't stop.
And that's when the three of them noticed me. Their eyes locked onto mine.
They froze. The manager tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he studied me intently. One of the scientists lowered the file he was holding, while the other pressed something—a button, hidden from view.
And then… from the ceiling, a mechanical arm descended—at the end of it, a syringe wired with tubes and needles, slowly moving toward me.
I tried to turn my head away, but it was too late. The needle pierced the back of my neck.
The pain was blinding—sharp and immediate. My eyes welled with tears, my body trembling uncontrollably as I clenched my eyes shut.
Scientist 1 adjusted a monitor directly in front of me. With a low-frequency hum, the screen flickered to life.
And there it was—something unnatural flowing through my bloodstream.
A swirling black smoke—thick, restless, alive—moving freely inside my veins.
"What is this? Contamination?" the manager asked, his voice laced with both concern and curiosity.
"Hmm…" Scientist 1 and 2 leaned closer, eyes fixed on the monitor. The data clearly showed black, smoke-like wisps swirling inside my bloodstream—but the strangest part was...
It wasn't harming me.
Scientist 2 scribbled something into a notebook, then said, "We'll need to ask Ayaan directly."
They switched on a mic.
"Ayaan, there appears to be a gaseous substance circulating inside your body. Are you experiencing any pain? Any discomfort?"
I was a bit confused at first. I glanced down.
"Well… these straps are extremely tight. They're definitely causing pain."
Their expressions shifted.
"So the gas itself isn't causing you any harm?"
I simply shook my head. "No…"
"Unusual…" Scientist 1 muttered, glancing at the manager. "Whatever this substance is, it doesn't seem to be hostile to his system. But we still need to understand what it actually is."
The manager locked eyes with me, staring deep. I stared right back, my gaze sharp, angry.
"Ensure he can't harm himself. Release him. We'll continue testing tomorrow," the manager said coldly, then turned and walked away.
I shouted, "Where is my sister?! Tell me!!"
But the manager didn't even flinch. It was as if my screams couldn't reach him—as if I was screaming into a void.
Finally, Scientist 1 spoke. "Stop shouting. She's fine. Resting in her bed."
I paused. "I want to see her!"
"Not now. You need to stay here."
I started thrashing again. The straps bit into my skin, and a thin stream of blood began to trickle from the spot where the syringe had pierced me.
Scientist 2 frowned. "If he keeps struggling like this, he'll injure himself. Release him."
With a click from a remote, the syringe withdrew. A few moments later, a small robotic unit rolled in from the corner—its mechanical arms quietly unlatching the restraints around my wrists and ankles.
The second I was free, I jolted upright, stretching my sore arms. Then I looked at the robot—and in a flare of anger, I kicked it.
But it dodged with impressive agility and rolled away, as if unfazed.
Scientist 2 smirked. "Interesting…"
And then, they both left.
I was alone now. My hands were free, but my heart felt caged. I slid down to the cold steel wall, breathing heavily. Eyes shut, mind spiraling with a single question:
'Is my sister really okay?'
For nearly two days, Ayaan had been kept in confinement. In that time, he had been bombarded with endless questions, subjected to multiple tests—but still, no answers had come. No conclusions. No relief.
He let out a deep breath and leaned his back against the cold steel wall. Isolated, restless, and silently grieving—he felt like a prisoner not just in body, but in spirit. Days had passed, yet the only thing echoing in his mind was the same haunting question:
How is my sister?
He closed his eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—sleep would grant him a brief escape.
But then he heard it.
"Krrru... kruuu..."
His eyes snapped open.
It sounded like a pigeon—but… wrong. Distorted. As if a man was trying to imitate a bird's call but failing miserably.
"Krruuu... kruuuu..."
He slowly lifted his head and strained his ears. The sound was coming from outside the containment chamber.
"Who's there?" he called softly, moving closer to the glass wall.
No response.
Cautiously, Ayaan rose to his feet and stepped toward the transparent barrier. His heartbeat spiked. He reached the glass and peered through—
And his eyes widened in pure shock.
A bizarre creature was staring straight at him.
Its body resembled a bird—feathers gleaming in shades of violet and pink, its wings unnaturally pale and disjointed. But the most horrifying part… was its face.
It had a human face.
Roughly the size of a rooster, it had two twisted horns protruding from its skull and long, sharp fangs jutting out from its mouth. And worst of all—
It was smiling.
A chilling, eerie grin—like something pulled from a cursed old folktale.
Ayaan's feet locked in place. His throat went dry.
The creature stepped forward slowly, its thin legs clicking softly against the floor, and then—
"Krruu... kruuu..."
That same unnatural, pigeon-like sound echoed again.
Ayaan jolted, his body recoiling instinctively as he stumbled back, pressing himself flat against the wall.
"Someone! Help!" he shouted, voice trembling with desperation. But there was no response.
The creature remained there, unmoving… its eyes peering deep into his soul, smiling—
like it had known him forever.
Then, slowly, it crept forward and began tapping its massive horn against the glass.
THONK! THONK! THONK!
With every hit, faint cracks began to bloom across the surface.
Ayaan's heart pounded violently. His legs were trembling.
"No! Stop! Please! Don't!" he cried out. But the creature only smiled wider, as if this was all some sick game.
Ayaan could barely hold himself upright—he was ready to collapse then and there. His throat burned dry, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I… I'm sorry! Whatever I did—whatever mistake I made—please don't kill me!" he sobbed, trembling as he clasped his hands together in desperation.
Seeing him cry, the creature suddenly stopped.
It tilted its head slightly, as if pondering something… blinking its large, eerie eyes slowly. And then, in a soft, strange voice, it said—
"Hattima Tim Tim…"
Ayaan froze.
His crying halted abruptly. "What?" he whispered, confused and breathless.
The creature was still smiling.
"Hattima Tim Tim!" it repeated, fluttering its wings with excitement.
"Hattima Tim Tim!" it chirped again, now practically gleeful—spinning once in place before turning to leave.
Just before it flew off, it glanced back at Ayaan, gave a tiny shriek—
"Hattima Tim Tim!"—and vanished into the shadows above.
Ayaan let out a shaky, panic-laced breath.
"Oh god… I'm alive," he whispered, his heart still thundering in his chest.
His legs gave in, and he collapsed to the ground, breathless and dazed.
But just as he began to recover—
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder—and Ayaan's entire body turned cold.
His mind screamed.
"AAAAAHHHH!!"
He let out a blood-curdling scream, clutched his head with both hands, and dropped straight to the floor.
"JAI HANUMAN GYAN GUN SAGAR!"
He began chanting the Hanuman Chalisa at full volume, voice trembling with panic.
"JAI KAPEES TIHU LOK UJAGAR!"
His words shook, but he didn't stop. He pressed his forehead to the cold floor.
"BHOOT PISACH NIKAT NAHI AAVE! MAHAVIR JAB NAAM SUNAVE!!"
And then—
"Are you okay?"
The voice was soft. Gentle. Almost innocent.
Ayaan's heart was still thundering in his chest as he slowly raised his head and turned around.
Standing behind him was a small girl, maybe eleven years old. She wore a white hoodie, the hood casting a slight shadow over her head. Her eyes were large, curious, and filled with childlike innocence.
For a moment, Ayaan just stared in stunned silence.
Then, hesitantly, he asked, "…W-who are you?"
The girl folded her hands behind her back, smiled, and said cheerfully,
"I'm Nyra. The assistant manager here."
Ayaan blinked. His expression froze in utter disbelief.
"Assistant manager?! You?!"
Nyra giggled. "Yup! And I came here personally just to meet you."
Ayaan was even more confused now. "Me? Why?"
She blinked those big, innocent eyes at him.
"You were crying so loudly… I thought I should come check on you. But turns out, you were just playing with little Hattima Tim Tim."
"Hattima Tim Tim?" Ayaan repeated, baffled. "That… that's what that creepy creature kept saying!"
Nyra nodded brightly. "Yep! That is his name."
"He keeps watch over every being in the fourth layer—and he's the staff's absolute favorite pet. Everyone here adores him. He's just too cute, and he considers everyone his best friend!"
Ayaan stared at her, visibly struggling to process what he was hearing.
That grotesque, twisted monster is someone's favorite pet? Seriously?
He muttered internally, "How the hell could anyone find that disturbing little beast adorable?"
"He tried to break the glass and eat me alive," Ayaan said aloud, eyes narrowed. "And you're telling me he's harmless?"
"Oh come on!" Nyra waved a hand playfully. "He wouldn't actually hurt you. He just wanted to be friends!"
Ayaan continued staring at her, skeptical and deadpan, like he was talking to a lunatic in a child's body.
Nyra leaned in, her mischievous grin turning oddly serious as she said,
"If he really wanted to eat you, you wouldn't have even realized it. He would've pounced silently and devoured you like a burger."
She made a mock biting motion.
"Nom... nom…" she added playfully, pretending to chomp the air toward Ayaan, trying to spook him.
Ayaan pointed a finger at her, deadpan.
"If you came here to scare me, you're doing an excellent job."
Nyra laughed. "No, no! I actually came to help you."
"Help?" Ayaan raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.
She extended her hand toward him.
"I can take you to see Anya."
Ayaan's eyes widened. That pulled him back to full alertness.
"Seriously?"
But then, doubt crept in.
"Wait a second… why would you help me?"
Nyra took a step closer. Her voice was soft now, yet filled with an oddly comforting certainty.
"You've been trapped here for days… going through test after test. And all the while, your heart's been aching for your sister. Right?"
Her words weren't accusing—they were warm. Empathetic.
"Is she okay?" Ayaan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nyra's expression softened.
"Unfortunately… she's slipped into a coma."
The ground vanished beneath him.
"What…?" The word came out hollow—emptied of breath and hope.
"No one knows when—or if—she'll wake up," Nyra continued gently. "But… she can still hear things. She can still feel what's around her."
"Shit…" Ayaan sank to the floor, burying his hands in his hair. Tears began to stream down his face, and when he spoke again, his voice was laced with a deep, aching grief.
Nyra lowered her head slightly, something glowing behind her eyes—not pity, but understanding.
"I can feel human emotions through their scent," she said softly.
"Right now, you're overflowing with rage… and broken from the inside. Losing your friends, seeing your sister like this—it's clinging to you like smoke, poisoning every breath you take."
Ayaan remained on the floor, curled over his knees, his face hidden in his palms. His voice was fragile—splintered and soaked in guilt.
"Whatever you say… I'll do it. Just please… please let me see her!"
He looked up at her, eyes red, pleading, drowning in tears.
For a moment, Nyra said nothing. Her face was still.
Then she let out a quiet, weary sigh—gentle, but heavy.
"Alright," she said. "Come with me."