The storm arrived without warning.
Dark clouds swallowed the evening sky above the small village of Dharapara. The wind howled like a wounded beast, bending trees and shaking rooftops.
At the center of the village stood an ancient banyan tree. Its roots spread across the earth like frozen serpents. The villagers believed the tree was sacred. Some said it was older than the village itself.
Arin never believed those stories.
Until tonight.
Lightning split the sky.
For a brief second, the tree glowed green.
Arin stepped closer, his heart pounding.
"That's not normal," he whispered.
Thunder crashed. The wind suddenly stopped.
The world became silent.
Then—
A voice echoed inside his mind.
"You have returned."
Arin froze.
"I… what?"
The roots beneath his feet began to move.
The ground cracked open.
Before he could scream, the earth swallowed him whole.
And everything went dark.