The city was glowing with beauty. The moon was shining bright, and the stars sparkled like diamonds across the night sky. The streets of the town and village were alive with laughter, voices, and cheerful sounds. Fairies with tiny wings flew around playfully, small dragons glided across the sky, and people rode their brooms freely above the rooftops. Everywhere there was magic—it was truly a city filled with wonder.
Of course, this was one of Bhairava's dreams.
He was running through the magical streets, dressed in strange clothes. To the people of the magical world, his outfit looked normal, but to someone from the real world, it seemed strange. But the costume fits perfectly to that world. Behind him, several figures in black hoodies chased him. They looked like members of a dark magic cult, and their eyes were fixed on him.
Bhairava held a wand tightly in his hand. As he ran, he cast spells to block their path—sparks of light and bursts of energy shot out, just like in the Harry Potter movies.
Suddenly, a voice called out from above. "Bhairava…!"
He turned his head and saw Mano flying toward him on a broom, cutting through the night air. Mano reached out his hand as he drew closer.
Bhairava lifted his own hand, and Mano caught it firmly. With a strong pull, Mano lifted him off the ground. Bhairava swung up and sat behind Mano on the broom, gripping tightly as they soared higher into the sky.
Breathing hard but relieved, Bhairava managed a smile and said, "On time."
Mano shouted over the rushing wind, "Where is she?"
Bhairava, still gripping the broom tightly, answered quickly, "She ran off to the east side!"
Behind them, the cult members in black hoodies rose into the air. Unlike the others in the city, they weren't riding brooms or dragons. They floated upward like ghosts, their movements unnatural and eerie.
As they flew, strange books appeared in front of them, glowing with dark energy. The cult members began chanting in an unknown language, their voices echoing across the sky. Each word carried power, and sparks of shadow magic burst around them.
Bhairava's eyes widened. "They came," he said, his voice tense.
Mano glanced back, then smiled with determination. He leaned forward and pushed the broom faster. "Hold tight!" he shouted.
Bhairava gripped the broom with one hand and raised his wand with the other. Bright streams of magic shot out as he defended against the cult's spells. Bolts of light and shadow clashed in midair, exploding into dazzling colors.
From the ground, the people of the city looked up in awe. The night sky had turned into a battlefield of magic—flashes of gold, silver, and dark purple streaked across the stars. To them, it looked beautiful, even though danger hung above.
Mano rode the broom as fast as he could, the wind rushing past them. Bhairava sat behind him, wand raised, blocking and deflecting the attacks from the dark members who were chasing close behind.
Suddenly, Mano's eyes caught sight of someone on the ground, a figure in a white hoodie running through the streets. He shouted, "Found her!"
Bhairava turned quickly, his heart racing with excitement. "Go! Get her!" he urged.
But the dark members noticed too. They stopped mid‑air, their black hoodies swaying as they lifted their hands. Strange books started glowing with sinister light. Together, they began chanting a powerful spell, unknown language.
The books shone brighter, and from them poured a strange energy—ghost‑like black smoke that twisted and spread through the air. The smoke rushed toward Mano and Bhairava, surrounding them from all sides.
Mano's face turned pale. "We won't make it," he said, fear in his voice.
The ghostly smoke closed in, trapping them inside. The air grew heavy, and the screams of the spirits echoed all around. Their twisted shapes circled them, terrifying and endless.
Mano gripped the broom tightly, panic in his eyes. But Bhairava stayed calm. He looked at the swirling ghosts and said softly, "Don't worry."
He placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.
At once, a deafening roar shook the sky. The smoke trembled, and the ghostly smoke shattered into pieces, vanishing instantly. The dark members cried out as their spell broke, their books falling lifelessly to the ground.
All the dark members had been defeated, and above them, a massive dragon circled in the sky, its wings spreading wide, casting a shadow over the city. Its roar silenced everything.
Bhairava looked at Mano and said firmly, "Let's go."
Mano leaned forward, riding the broom faster through the night air. Soon, they reached the woman in the white hoodie, running across the ground. Without hesitation, Bhairava leapt from the broom, landing in front of her with force.
The woman stopped, her eyes sharp and voice cold. "Don't come in my way. You don't know about me."
At that moment, the dragon descended, landing heavily behind Bhairava. Its presence was terrifying, its scales glinting under the moonlight. The woman's confidence broke, fear flashing across her face.
Bhairava stepped closer, his gaze piercing. He looked at her as if she were nothing more than a low life and said, "Who don't know about who?"
The dragon behind him opened its jaws, coughing flame. In an instant, the fire engulfed the woman. Her scream was cut short as she was burned into ashes, leaving nothing behind.
Bhairava raised his hands in triumph, celebrating the victory. The dragon roared above, echoing his dominance.
Mano landed beside him, his face unreadable. He looked at Bhairava and said quietly, "This is not over."
Bhairava frowned, confused. Then his eyes widened in shock. He looked down and saw a sword piercing through his chest from behind.
His breath caught. He turned his head slowly, disbelief in his eyes. "Why?" he whispered.
Mano's lips curled into a strange smile. "You are outdated."
Blood spilled from Bhairava's mouth as fear and betrayal consumed him. Behind, the dragon roared in fury, opening its mouth to unleash fire. But Mano raised his wand, blocking the flames with a powerful force that shook the air.
Summoning his strength, Bhairava slipped free from the sword's grip. He staggered, climbed onto the dragon's back, and the beast soared upward, fleeing into the sky with him.
But then a voice thundered from above. "Where do you think you are running?"
The sky grew darker, swallowing the stars. Black smoke swirled and spread, twisting into monstrous shapes. From within, a massive hand emerged, larger than the dragon itself.
Wounded and terrified, Bhairava struggled as the hand closed around him, lifting him high. He fought to break free, but the grip was unyielding.
The dragon roared in rage, spewing fire at the hand, but the flames vanished into the smoke. With a single push, the hand swatted the dragon away like a toy, hurling it into the distance. Bhairava's heart pounded, his body weak from the wound. Then, through the swirling black smoke, a familiar face appeared.
Bhairava feared as he looked up at the face that appeared from the smoke. His voice trembled. "Aarya? You too?"
Confusion filled him, it was Aarya who had grabbed him, towering and immense. Before he could understand, the sound of a bell echoed across the sky. It was sharp, metallic, just like the college bell he knew so well. The ringing spread everywhere, drowning out the darkness.
In an instant, the dream shattered.
Bhairava jolted awake, his head heavy. He was lying on a desk in his classroom, small bandage were present in his forehead. Around him, classmates were packing their bags, chatting, and preparing to leave.
Still groggy, he lifted his head and looked around. Mano sat at the next table, stuffing books into his bag. He glanced at Bhairava and said, "Enough sleeping. It's time to go home."
Bhairava slowly stood, gathering his things. As he did, he noticed Shreya and her friend leaving the class, smiling and talking happily. Across the room, Aarav and his gang were bullying Dev again, dragging him along while carrying a soccer ball in their sports gear.
Bhairava sighed and whispered to himself, "This will not change."
Mano followed his gaze, watching the group leave. Then he turned back and walked with Bhairava out of the classroom.
As they stepped outside, Mano asked casually, "What were you dreaming in class?"
Before Bhairava could answer, a voice came from behind. "Dream?"
They turned and saw Aarya walking toward them, joining their side.
The three of them headed together toward the cycle stand. Mano smirked and said, "Yes, in class he was completely sleeping. So I'm asking what he was dreaming."
Bhairava thought about the strange world of dragons, cult members, and the raven. He gave a small smile and said, "Hmm… I was dreaming about a magical, fancy world. You both were there too."
Aarya's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? What were we doing?" she asked eagerly.
Bhairava chuckled and said, "You both were trying to kill me. Especially Mano, you stabbed me in the back with a sword."
Mano groaned loudly. "What?!"
Aarya frowned, her face full of disappointment. "That can't be true. We would never do that."
Bhairava grinned mischievously. "But you did. In my dream, both of you were fighting against me, trying to kill me."
Mano's face twisted into a funny mix of anger and disbelief. He shouted, "Even in a dream, how can we do something like that? That's impossible! It's all your fault!"
Bhairava blinked in confusion. "What? What did I do?"
Aarya shook her head, her voice sharp. "Why are you dreaming things like that?"
Bhairava tilted his head. "Huh?"
Then, in a mocking tone, he added, "Just like now—you both joined hands and stood against me."
Aarya's face turned red with anger. "I hate you," she said sharply.
Bhairava replied with soft laugh, "Sorry, I was just kidding."
The three of them took their cycles and left the college together. Mano walked beside Aarya, pulling her cycle along, while Bhairava pushed his own. Aarya strolled freely, her hands swinging as the warm evening breeze brushed past them.
Mano glanced at Bhairava and asked curiously, "It was a lucid dream, right? Then how did that happen? How is it possible when you're supposed to be in control of your dream?"
Aarya's expression tightened, her brows furrowed. "Then that means you made us do it yourself. What? You want to fight us, huh?"
Bhairava's eyes widened in shock. He shook his head quickly and said, "No, I didn't control my dream today. Even in a lucid dream, sometimes things go out of my hand. I'm not in control all the time."
Aarya stepped closer, pinched Bhairava's arm, and said firmly, "No. It was you. I know it. You controlled us and made us do that."
Bhairava clenched his teeth, wincing in pain, and shouted, "Ahh!"
The three continued walking as the evening sunlight spread across the town, painting the streets in gold. The warm breeze carried the sounds of children playing and the chatter of people heading home. Soon, they reached Shivani's school. Shivani came out with her usual energy, and they picked her up, cycling together toward home.
After reaching home, Shivani and Bhairava freshened up and left the house together. Bhairava dropped Shivani at her music class, then went off to his part‑time job.
Time passed, the sun set, and a waning crescent moon rose into the night sky. When his work was done, Bhairava changed out of his part‑time uniform, put on his regular clothes, and rode his cycle back home along the dark road.
At home, Shivani was already preparing dinner. Bhairava joined her, and together they cooked, laughed a little, and shared the meal. Their parents hadn't returned yet—still busy with work—so the siblings cleaned the plates and tidied the dining area before heading to their rooms.
Bhairava sat on his bed, the room silent around him. His eyes drifted to the clock on the table—it showed 10:30 p.m. Beside it lay a small calendar, the date marked clearly: January 30.
Next to the calendar was his diary, the one where he wrote down all his dreams. He picked it up, staring at the cover, and thought to himself:
"It's been two weeks since that red gate dream. It was strange… but after that, I haven't seen the gate or the raven again."
He removed his glasses, placed them neatly on the table, and lay down on his bed. But his mind refused to rest. "I kept searching for the gate in my dreams… why can't I find it?"
Since that night, Bhairava had been trying to uncover the meaning behind the red gate. He practiced lucid dreaming, sharpening his ability to wake inside his dreams and control them. He could now shape his dream world more easily than before. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the gate, the raven, and that strange vision never returned.
As he lay there, fragments of memory struck him again—small flashes of that night. He remembered the fear, the pain, the mirror.
"That dream… no, it wasn't just a dream," he whispered to himself. "It felt real. I saw myself in the mirror—if it was only a dream, that shouldn't be possible. And the pain, the fear, the feeling… everything was real, as if it truly happened. I remember it clearly, like it was yesterday."
Bhairava lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts refused to quiet down. "But it isn't happening again. Whenever I try to recreate that dream, I can clearly sense it's only a dream."
For the past two weeks, he had been chasing the memory of the red gate. In his lucid dreams, he tried again and again to bring it back, but nothing worked. He even tested himself—hurting his own body inside the dream—but there was no pain.
The mirror experiments were worse. Each time he created a mirror in his dream, the reflection unsettled him. Sometimes his face looked alien, twisted and unfamiliar. Other times, he saw animal heads in place of his own. And sometimes, there was no face at all—no eyes, no nose, no mouth. The sight left him gasping, confused about how he was even breathing. Every time he looked into the mirror, his mind grew unstable, and he struggled until he woke.
Through these tests, Bhairava had faced nightmares and even sleep paralysis. Those moments terrified him, yet his curiosity never faded. He told himself he should stop, but deep inside, he still wanted to uncover the truth of that strange dream.
He closed his eyes, whispering his final thought of the day: "I hope it doesn't happen again."
But every night was the same. His fear clashed with his excitement, and excitement always won. Even after nightmares, even after paralysis, he would try again the next day. Tonight was no different. With hope burning quietly inside him, Bhairava drifted into sleep, ready to search once more for the answer when he woke inside his dream.