The late afternoon sun cast stretched shadows along the dusty road as Aarav kicked a loose pebble ahead of him. He watched it bounce twice, skim the surface of a pothole, and roll to the side—much like his thoughts these days. Nothing seemed to be going the way he wanted.
School had called him to the office during lunch break. The clerk, without even looking up from his ledger, had said in a flat tone, "Deposit the fee by Friday. Otherwise… don't come."
Those words kept echoing in Aarav's mind. They clung to him heavier than his faded schoolbag hanging lopsided on his shoulder.
His shoes were worn. His uniform shirt had a tear at the hem that he kept tucked in so no one would notice. But the fee—that was the real problem. His mother already worked two jobs, leaving home before dawn and returning close to midnight. She barely had the energy to speak, yet she tried—always asking if he had eaten, if his homework was done, if he was okay.
He never told her about the fee.
How could he? She already struggled to feed him and his two younger brothers. Ever since his father died when he was five, life had been a slow, uneven climb for all of them. He was grateful—deeply grateful—for everything his mother did. But he wished he could do more than just be a burden.
And he wished for things he knew he shouldn't.
A phone. New clothes. A little money of his own. Maybe even a chance to be someone… someone rich, someone who could change everything.
Aarav sighed and turned toward the park. He didn't want to go home yet—not with the weight of the school's warning pressing on his chest. The park was the only place he could think clearly.
But today, thinking clearly was the last thing fate allowed.
Halfway down the road, he noticed something strange—something impossible.
A shimmer.
A distortion in the air, like heat waves rising from the ground… except this wasn't wavering above the road. It was on the road. A circular swirl hung in the middle of the street, glowing faint blue, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Aarav blinked. Rubbed his eyes.
It was still there.
"What the…?" he whispered.
His first thought was the most logical one: Some YouTuber must be filming a prank. People were always doing stupid challenges for views—maybe this was some projector trick, some hologram stunt.
Curiosity tugged at him. He stepped closer.
Ten meters.
That was all it took.
The air shifted—like the sky inhaling.
Before Aarav could react, a violent pull yanked at his body. His feet slid across the gravel. His arms flailed for something to hold onto, but there was nothing—only wind roaring past his ears.
"No—no, no!" he shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the vortex.
The world exploded into light.
And Aarav was gone.
Aarav gasped as he tumbled onto a surface that felt like water yet held his weight like solid glass. Beneath him, ripples spread in perfect circles, glowing faintly as though the world itself was alive and watching.
He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, breath sharp and uneven. The sky above was a deep, unnatural blue—too smooth, too quiet, too empty. There were no clouds. No sun. No wind. Just an endless dome of color, cold and indifferent.
Every direction he looked, the shimmering water-surface extended infinitely, reflecting the blue sky in a perfect, endless mirror. There was no horizon. No ground. No escape.
Aarav hugged his arms around himself. His body trembled—not from cold but from the suffocating fear creeping into his chest.
"This… can't be real."
But reality didn't care.
The silence pressed against him so hard that his ears began to ring. His vision blurred for a moment, and he sank to his knees, shaking.
Then—
A voice.
Not around him.
Inside him.
Call Link In.
Aarav's breath caught. The voice was calm, emotionless, as if someone had placed the words gently into his skull.
He swallowed. "L-Link In?" he whispered aloud, hardly aware of his own voice.
The world folded.
The surface beneath him shattered like a reflection struck by a stone. A rush of air hit him. A blinding flash followed—and suddenly he was standing back on the dusty road, the same spot he was before everything had gone wrong.
His lungs burned as he gasped. The street was normal again. People walking. Cars honking. The portal gone.
"Was… that a dream?" he muttered.
But his hands were still trembling.
His heart still raced.
His clothes were still cold with a dampness that shouldn't exist.
Dreams didn't leave evidence.
Still, he forced himself to push the thought away. His head already ached from the tension of the day. The school's warning. His mother's struggles. His own helplessness.
And now this.
He sat in the park for a while, staring blankly at the children playing, the swings creaking, the fading orange sky. He told himself it was nothing. A hallucination. Stress. Exhaustion.
Because the alternative was too terrifying.
As darkness crept across the horizon, Aarav finally stood. His legs felt heavy.
"I should go home…" he whispered.
But as he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had followed him out of that impossible world.
Something waiting.
Something watching.