Chapter 1 The Price of Looking
Present Day
Delhi University North Campus
11:47 PM October 2026
The last bus rolled past the corner and vanished.
Aarav Sharma stood under a flickering streetlight staring at his phone like it might suddenly change its mind. The timetable was wrong. Again.
He exhaled slowly and slipped the phone into his pocket.
Four kilometers to the hostel.
Alone.
At night.
He adjusted his backpack and started walking.
The university looked different after midnight. Buildings that felt familiar during the day now leaned into shadow their edges blurred. Trees swayed even though the wind was barely there. The moon was hidden either by clouds or by choice.
Halfway down the road Aarav slowed.
The air felt wrong.
It carried the smell of burned paper like old books left too close to fire. Beneath it lingered something sweeter. Rotting roses.
His stomach tightened.
The phone vibrated in his pocket.
Delhi Police Alert
17 cases of unexplained rapid aging reported in the last 32 days.
Avoid travelling alone after 10 PM.
Another notification followed.
Headline Age Stealing Ghost Ancient Superstition in Modern Delhi
Then a forwarded message.
Black clothes. Glowing eyes. Spotted near North Campus.
Aarav locked his screen.
Urban legends he muttered.
He studied history. Fear always came wrapped in stories ghosts demons curses. There was always a rational explanation underneath.
Still his pace quickened.
That is when he heard it.
Not a scream.
Something worse.
A sharp choking sound as if someone's breath had been ripped out of their chest.
Aarav froze.
Run his mind screamed.
Instead his feet turned toward the park.
The iron gate creaked softly as he pushed it open. Inside darkness pooled around an ancient banyan tree at the center. (Akshay Vriksh immortal banyan tree)
Under it
someone was kneeling.
A boy. Maybe twenty one. Twenty two at most.
He looked exhausted in a way sleep could not fix.
And in front of him lay another body.
Alive.
But only barely.
Same jeans. Same dark T shirt. Clothes Aarav himself wore every day.
The skin was shriveled pulled tight over bone. Veins bulged along thin arms. Hair completely white.
Aarav's breath caught.
God
The kneeling boy lifted his head.
And everything else disappeared.
His eyes were not just golden.
They looked like molten metal liquid light trapped behind glass. Not warm. Not alive.
Tired.
Deeply endlessly tired.
Do not touch me.
The voice was low. Almost gone.
Yet it carried weight like centuries pressed into a whisper.
You should not be here.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Red and blue light flickered through the trees.
The boy tried to stand.
His knees shook.
His body did not rise.
As if the ground itself refused to let him go.
Aarav knew.
This was him. The one from the alerts. The reason people were aging overnight.
He should run.
Instead he looked closer.
Behind the golden glow there was no rage. No hunger.
Only pain.
Against every sane instinct Aarav stepped forward.
Then another step.
He knelt beside the boy and reached for his hand.
Fire exploded up his arm.
Aarav gasped as heat tore through his wrist deep into his bones. His vision blurred.
Something inside him pulled hard.
Suddenly he was six standing in his school uniform.
Sixteen laughing on his bike for the first time.
Twenty two. Now.
All at once.
His heart stuttered.
This is it he thought wildly. I am dying.
Then
the boy recoiled as if shocked.
He yanked his hand away stumbling back staring at Aarav like he had seen something impossible.
Nothing happened.
Aarav was still standing.
Breathing.
Alive.
That is the boy whispered. Impossible.
Aarav looked down at himself. His hands were normal. No wrinkles. No gray skin.
You did not see anything the boy said urgently. Forget this place. Forget me. And leave.
Aarav should have listened.
He did not.
Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe stubbornness. Maybe the ache he had seen in those eyes.
He let out a short nervous laugh.
That was a weak attempt at scaring me he said. And if the police are coming standing here will not help either of us.
He held out his hand again.
This time there was no heat.
Just a cold shaking grip.
The boy hesitated.
Then took it.
They left through the back of the park slipping through a vacant lot and into narrow streets. Aarav walked ahead. The boy followed silently like a shadow trying not to exist.
The hostel came into view three stories cracked plaster dim lights.
I live here Aarav said fishing for his keys. Where do you
The boy did not answer.
He just stared.
Aarav nodded. Yeah. Okay.
He went inside. The door shut behind him.
Rain started almost immediately.
Cold and sudden.
The boy remained outside soaked staring at the lighted window.
For the first time in centuries
his power had failed.
His hands trembled as he lifted them.
What are you
What is inside you
The door opened again.
Aarav stepped out with an umbrella.
And a towel.
He opened the umbrella over the boy's head.
Come in he said casually. At least till the rain stops.
The boy looked at him.
No fear. No hatred.
Just acceptance.
He stepped forward.
Crossing the threshold.
Crossing into a war far older than either of them understood.
Across the street inside a black SUV
a man lowered his night vision scope.
A satisfied smile curved his lips.
Target acquired he said into his headset. Subject Zero confirmed.
A pause.
There is another boy. Local. The Subject attempted activation failed.
Silence.
Then interest.
Bring both.
The engine started.
And in the rain soaked city something ancient stirred.
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