POV: Nivaan
The universe has a sick sense of humor.
One minute, you're playing the brooding genius in a dim apartment, perfecting your espresso-to-bitterness ratio…Next minute, you're standing outside a hospital morgue at 3AM, trying to figure out why you're not inside that drawer instead of her.
Yeah.I wasn't supposed to be alive tonight.That's the punchline.
The corridor was silent, like the air itself was holding its breath. I leaned against the cold wall, hands shoved deep in my pockets, pretending I had my life together. Spoiler: I didn't. Not even slightly.
Kiyan paced beside me, nervous as a cat in a dog shelter.Typical.
"Bro… are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked.
I looked at him like he had just asked whether water was wet.
"I didn't survive a god-level ambush just to go home and sleep."
He winced.Fair.I winced internally too — the memory was… messy.
The attack earlier had been fast and calculated, like someone mapped my entire life routine and waited for the perfect second. I still smelled smoke on my jacket; my ribs hurt from the fall; my brain was running diagnostics at 200 mph.
I should've died.I didn't.That's the problem.
Inside the morgue, there was supposed to be—me.
But instead, there was a stranger:another man with my face blurred beyond recognition.
Convenient.Too convenient.
Someone wanted the world to believe I was dead.Someone wanted me erased without actually touching me.
Which means…they're scared of me.
Good.They should be.
Kiyan finally stopped pacing. "Look, man— maybe this is a sign. You disappear for a while. Let the heat drop."
"I'm not a stove," I muttered."Heat doesn't drop. It spreads."
He groaned."I hate when you talk like you swallowed a philosophy quote page."
I smirked."Copium is free. Try it."
He flipped me off. Good friendship.
I exhaled, long and slow.There were only two reasons someone would fake my death:
To keep me silent
To warn me I was next
Fun options, right?
My phone buzzed.Unknown number.
"ARE YOU WHERE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE?"
No "hi," no punctuation, no drama — just pure menace.
My veins iced.I texted back:
"Depends. Where should a dead man be?"
Three dots…Then nothing.
Coward.
The morgue door creaked open.Dr. Zareen stepped out, cool and polished, like this was her runway and corpses were accessories. Her heels clicked with surgical precision.
"Nivaan," she said, voice smooth. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Lies don't suit you," I replied.
Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile. More like amusement dipped in warning.
"The body is inside," she said. "But I'm telling you now — you won't like what you see."
"I rarely do," I muttered.
Kiyan swallowed hard. "Should I wait outside?"
"No," I said immediately.Then softer:"…but you can if you're scared."
He punched my shoulder.I totally deserved that.
Inside, cold air bit my skin.The sheet-covered body was still. Too still.I pulled the white fabric back—
Not me.Obviously.But…
My throat tightened.
The man had the same build, same jawline, similar features…But his right wrist—
There was a tattoo.A phoenix rising from ashes.
Same place as mine.Same design.
Except…Mine was inked sunset-red.His was black.
Someone designed a copy of me.
Someone planned this.
Kiyan whispered, "Dude… what the actual fu—"
"Language," Dr. Zareen snapped.
I didn't speak.My brain was shifting into hunter mode — analyzing, cross-referencing, discarding panic like an outdated file.
"This body," she said quietly, "arrived labeled as you."
"Did you verify?" I asked.
"Fingerprints were… wiped."
Cool.So someone wiped evidence and still dropped this off neatly at a hospital like Amazon shipping.
Love that for me.
"What about cause of death?"
She hesitated.Unusual.
"He looks like he suffocated," she said. "But there are no bruises. No marks. No internal damage. Almost like he just… stopped breathing."
My skin prickled.Someone killed him without touching him.Or without leaving proof.
Kiyan's voice trembled."This is— this is bigger than we thought."
"No," I corrected."This is bigger than YOU thought."
He glared."You're not the only one in danger."
"I know," I said quietly.Because I'd already made a list of who might bleed if I messed up:Kiyan.Avni.A few others.
Avni.
Her name made my heartbeat skid sideways.Like someone took a stitching needle to my ribs and tugged.
I hadn't seen her since the party — hot red saree, cold eyes, lips that looked like they only spoke truths she regretted later. She had disappeared after a fight, and I'd told myself it was for the best.
Now?I wasn't so sure.
We were messy.Wrong timing, wrong choices, wrong universe.
But maybe wrong people make the right chaos.
I covered the body again.I had seen enough.
"We need to leave," I said.
Dr. Zareen nodded like she expected that.Like she might've been waiting.
"You should be careful," she said. "Someone went to a lot of trouble."
"To kill me?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"To replace you."
That landed like a punch.
Later — Rooftop
I stood on my building's terrace, cold wind threading through my hair. City lights flickered below, oblivious to the fact that my life was unraveling like a cheap sweater.
Footsteps behind me.Soft.Too soft.
I didn't turn."I know you're there."
Silence.
Then—
Unknown POV — Shadow
He stands alone, thinking darkness can't touch him.
Cute.
He thinks he survived by chance.
No.
He lived because I let him.
But he's getting curious. That's a problem.
Curiosity turns smart men into corpses.
And Nivaan?He's both — dangerously smart… and painfully curious.
Not ideal.
But he'll learn.
Soon.