The bridge groaned under Shreya's feet. Fog twisted around her like living fingers. Every light flickered as if the night itself were shivering.
The shadow waited. Still. Patient. Its presence pressed into her chest, heavy, suffocating. Time seemed wrong here—each second stretched too long, and yet passed too quickly. She could feel the entity feeding on the very possibility of her future.
Aarav's hand gripped hers tightly. "We need to end this now. There's no running."
Shreya nodded, swallowing the fear lodged in her throat. She stepped closer to the shadow, heart hammering. Her reflection in the puddles on the bridge rippled unnaturally, showing not herself, but a twisted version, grinning with hollow eyes.
"You shouldn't have touched me," the dead man whispered from the shadow, voice like broken glass. "Every time you interfered, you made me stronger. Now, you are the key."
Shreya's mind raced. If she failed, tomorrow wouldn't just claim her—it would claim everyone. Every choice she'd made had led to this moment. Every attempt to fix the past had brought her here.
She forced herself to focus. "I won't let you take me… or anyone else."
The shadow surged, and the bridge beneath them seemed to bend. Aarav shouted, "Shreya!"
Her hands trembled as she reached toward the figure. Her heart pounded so violently it hurt. Every fiber of her being screamed to pull back—but something deeper, stronger, demanded she step forward.
And then, she remembered: the mirror, the whispers, the warnings.
"Time isn't just yours to see," she shouted, voice cracking. "It doesn't belong to you!"
The shadow recoiled, as if hearing her defiance. The fog writhed and screamed. The bridge shook, and shards of reality began tearing around them.
Shreya's eyes burned. She focused, and a vision opened in her mind—a way to trap it, to stop it. But she knew the cost.
A single step. A single choice. And tomorrow could end… or consume her forever.