At the edge of the village stood an abandoned well. Old stone. Cracked rim.
Carved into it were words no one talked about:
"Less light. More truth."
Aarav leaned over and looked inside.
He didn't see his reflection.
He saw shadows.
Dozens of them.
Suspended along the walls of the well like drying cloth.
Some twisted.
Some trembling.
Some still.
Then he saw the faceless boy standing at the bottom.
But this time, it had a face.
Aarav's face.