Chapter 5: Unexpected call

UNIVERSITY ARC

It was midnight.

The sky was covered with thick clouds, swallowing the moon into darkness. Thunder rumbled, shaking the ground. As if that weren't enough, a fierce storm began to pour down, carried by strong winds that made breathing heavy and difficult.

At that moment, I heard voices from below.

"I don't understand this sudden storm. Someone go and turn on the inverter! And someone else, bring candles and the things the young master needs."

But before anyone could move, screams erupted.

These weren't normal screams—they were death cries, filled with agony and terror. They echoed through the storm, merging with the lightning, turning the night into a nightmare. It sounded as if souls were crying out, suffering in their final moments. Fear gripped my body, freezing me in place. My heart pounded violently, threatening to burst from my chest. I couldn't move.

And then, the door suddenly swung open.

A young lady ran inside.

She was drenched, shivering. Her eyes—those terrified eyes—told me she had seen something horrifying. Her lips trembled, struggling to form words. Yet, despite her fear, she clutched her chest tightly, as if trying to gather the courage to speak.

"Don't be afraid… There's nothing… I'm right here…"

But her face told a different story.

She was lying.

She wasn't comforting me—she was drowning in fear.

Her hands shook as she clutched her soaked clothes, trying to keep herself steady. And then—a swift movement. A glint of steel.

SLLK!

It happened in an instant.

From nowhere, a blade sliced through her body in one clean motion.

Blood sprayed across the walls, the floor—my face. The thick, metallic scent filled my nostrils.

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, her head hit the ground with a dull thud—right at my feet.

Her lifeless eyes stared at me, her lips slightly parted, as if she had wanted to say something. Maybe she wanted to tell me to run.

But her body didn't collapse immediately.

For a moment, she still tried to protect me.

Her trembling hands reached forward, as if wanting to hold onto me.

But she was already gone.

Then, suddenly—I heard footsteps.

Slow, heavy. As if the air itself was bending under his presence.

And behind those footsteps… came laughter. Twisted, cruel laughter, dripping with a sense of power, as if nothing in this world could stop him.

"There's no one in this world who can save you from me… Just die."

Even before I saw him, I felt him.

The sheer presence of this person was different. Overwhelming. Suffocating. As if no living being could survive in his presence.

I realized the footsteps were coming closer. And as he neared, the fear in my chest turned to something worse—an all-consuming dread.

If I had to describe it in one sentence—it felt like the whole world was beneath his feet, bowing in fear.

He stepped forward.

His face was hidden in the shadows. But his eyes—those glowing red eyes—pierced through the darkness.

His blade, still wet with her blood.

Just like the blood on my clothes… on my hands.

He wasn't human. He was a monster.

And the moment I saw him—I knew.

I was next.

He wasted no time. Gripping his sword tightly, he raised it high.

And in the next moment—he swung it down, straight at me.

...…

Darkness swallowed me whole.

The sword came down—

And just before it could split me apart—

I woke up.

My body jolted upright, drenched in sweat. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my hands clutched the sheets beneath me. For a moment, I couldn't move. The room around me was still, but my mind was anything but. The echoes of that laughter, the gleam of that bloodied blade, the lifeless eyes staring up at me—all of it clung to me like a shadow that refused to fade.

It took me a full minute to remind myself where I was.

This was my room. The sunlight was seeping through the curtains. Outside, the world was awake. Alive.

It was just a dream. But why did it feel so real?

I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my face, willing my heart to slow.

And then—

My phone rang.

The sudden vibration nearly made me jump. I blinked, reaching for it with trembling fingers. The screen flashed with a name I hadn't seen in years.

My breath caught in my throat.

For a second, I just stared at it. A part of me hesitated—was this real too? Or just another cruel twist of my mind?

The ringing continued, pulling me back to reality.

I swallowed hard and answered.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end.

Then—a slow, shaky inhale.

"Manoj…"

My fingers tightened around the phone. That voice. Soft, familiar, filled with something I couldn't quite place. Was it a relief? Was it sorrow? Or something deeper—something time hadn't been able to erase?

"I…" she started, but her words wavered, as if she had rehearsed this moment a thousand times but now found herself at a loss.

I didn't know what to say either. Ten years of separation, of silence, of distance—how was I supposed to respond?

Before I could speak, she continued.

"My sweet son." Her voice wavered slightly, but she quickly covered it with a light chuckle. "You're not going to scold me for calling first?"

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my forehead. "I wouldn't dare."

Another small laugh. "Good boy."

I clenched my jaw, trying to steady my emotions. "Why now?"

A soft sigh. "Because I couldn't wait any longer."

I closed my eyes. "Mom, do you even know what I've been through? Ten years, and I—"

"I know, my love. More than you think."

Her voice was so full of understanding that it shattered the last bit of my resistance.

"I want to see you, dear."

A lump formed in my throat.

She wasn't demanding it. She wasn't ordering me as a member of the Vardhan family.

She was asking me as my mother.

For a long time ago, I had convinced myself that the past was a closed chapter. That if she never reached out, I would never have to face her. That I could move forward without looking back.

But now, she was right here. Calling me. Wanting to see me.

And for all the anger, the pain, the unanswered questions—I couldn't bring myself to say no.

I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling. "Where?"

The silence stretched between us, heavy with years of distance.

"Come home," she said.

Home.

The word sent a sharp pang through my chest. I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling, my grip on the phone tightening.

Was that place still my home?

"Mom, I… I can't just come back. Not like this. You already know why."

A pause. A small, shaky breath—like she was trying to hold back something. "I know who you're thinking about right now, dear. But time changes everything. Even people."

I let out a hollow chuckle. "You think it's that simple? That he'll just forget everything and accept me like nothing happened?"

She didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice was softer, almost fragile. "I don't know, Manoj. But… you're my son. No matter what happened, you're still my son."

That single sentence made my chest tighten.

She exhaled, her voice steadying again. "Forget what I just said about home. At least let me see you. Somewhere else. Somewhere far away."

I shut my eyes, my fingers pressing against my temple.

My soul wouldn't allow me to say no.

I inhaled deeply. "Where do you want me to come?'

A small, relieved gasp. "Oh, dear, just wait a moment! Thank God! You agreed! Then where should we meet, huh? Let me think."

I froze at her excitement. "Hold on! Mom, please… don't lie to me. You already knew where I was, didn't you?"

A small pause. Then, an amused hum. "Hmm, what do you think?"

"Mom."

She laughed softly, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, alright, alright! You caught me. You've grown too sharp, my dear. But yes, I already knew."

I rubbed my temple. "Of course, you did."

"Don't sound so grumpy! I was just waiting for the right time, you know. But then… I thought, 'Why am I waiting when I could just grab my son and squeeze him right now?'"

I sighed, unable to fight the small smile tugging at my lips.

"Mom, wait. I… I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'm not sure I can handle what comes next. Please, try to understand."

A pause. Then, her voice softened—not losing its warmth, but carrying a gentle reassurance.

"Oh, sweetheart. I understand more than you think."

A beat of silence. Then—

"But let me be selfish just this once. I want to see my son. And I don't care if you're ready, because I am."

She sniffled quietly, then cleared her throat. "I'll send you the location and time. Just… don't be late, okay? You've made your mother wait ten years already."

The call ended.

I set my phone down, staring at the screen before glancing toward the window. The sunlight had grown brighter, cutting through the shadows in my room.

Somewhere in that light, for the first time in years, a piece of warmth reached me.