Ayaan remained perfectly still in his seat, the post-exam high of copying from Ishani vanishing instantly. He flicked his pen rhythmically, his expression darkening into something unreadable.
"Nope. Don't kill him," Ayaan thought, his mental voice firm. "Tell me... is there a way to cure him?"
"Huh? Why do you want to cure him?" the voice echoed, sounding genuinely baffled. "Don't be soft, boy. The world will eat you alive if you show mercy to snakes."
"Oh, don't worry," Ayaan countered, a cold smile playing on his lips. "This is neither me being soft nor cruel. It's just me making... connections."
Beside him, Ishani was repeatedly poking his arm with her pen, but Ayaan was a statue.
"Oi, Mountain Man! What are you thinking?" Ishani whispered, her voice finally cutting through his mental link.
Ayaan blinked, the world rushing back. "What?"
"I asked what you were thinking! You've got that look on your face—like you're scheming something," she said, squinting at him.
"Nah, nothing like that. Just had a thought," he replied smoothly.
"Okay, okay. Let's just go. We're the only ones left in here; we look like sitting ducks," Ishani urged, gesturing to the empty hall.
As they stood up, Professor Durga began walking toward them. Ishani froze. "Oi, do you think she saw us copying? Fuuuck," she hissed.
The Professor stopped directly in front of them, her presence commanding and silent. "Ayaan, can I speak to you privately?"
Ishani didn't wait to be asked twice. "I'll wait for you outside!" she chirped, fleeing the room and leaving Ayaan alone with the woman who had called him the Aadi-purush.
"What did you want to talk about, Professor?" Ayaan asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I just wanted to know where you were for these past months," Durga said, her stoic face softening just enough for a faint smile to touch her lips. "The attendance register has marked you as deceased. I need a reason to mark you present. You've taken this exam, but you won't be allowed to sit for the finals if your record isn't cleared."
Ayaan felt a cold sweat break across his back. What do I tell her? I had an accident? Aliens kidnapped me?
"Uh... there were some problems in the family," he finally fumbled. "Because of that, I wasn't able to come."
"Hmm. I see." Durga stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. "Are you sure you're telling me the truth? I don't like people who lie, you know."
"Y-yeah. I'm sure," Ayaan stammered. "You can ask my sister if you doubt me."
"Huh. I think I will just do that," she replied cryptically. "You may go now."
Ayaan didn't wait for a second dismissal. He burst out of the room like a prisoner escaping a cell.
"Oi! Where are you running off to? Who's after you?" Ishani laughed, catching up to him in the hallway.
"Oh, aren't you happy I'm still alive?" Ayaan joked, though his mind was already miles away.
The Kaushal Mansion
While Ayaan walked out of the university gates, a very different scene was unfolding in the Kaushal household. Ritesh, who had entered the house in a panic, was now confined to a high-tech medical bed.
The "Mark of Doom" had progressed with terrifying precision. Machines beeped and whirred around him, but they were useless against the spectral cold rising from his feet. The chill had crawled up his legs, freezing his nerves until it stopped right at his heart.
Ritesh was completely paralyzed. His eyes were wide with terror, the only part of him that could still move. The doctors stood around the bed, sweating and confused; according to every scan and blood test, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.
He was a living statue, trapped in a body that was slowly turning into a tomb. Aakash Kaushal stood in the corner of the room, watching his son wither, realizing for the first time that money couldn't buy a cure for a curse.