TRIAL PLAY 1.1

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The cemetery is shrouded in an eerie darkness, illuminated only by a nearby streetlamp's dim, wavering light. The fog swirls around Ayan's feet as he walks toward the gate, his eyes scanning the surroundings with suspicion and resolve.

A figure emerges from the shadows—a young boy, who was earlier seen hammering nails. He stands still, his posture enigmatic. Ayan approaches, his voice cutting through the stillness.

"Where can I find Satpal?"

The boy's gaze is steady, his expression inscrutable. "I am Satpal."

Ayan blinks, momentarily confused. "Guru Satpal?"

The boy nods solemnly. "Yes, I am Guru Satpal."

Ayan's curiosity deepens. "Do you practice black magic?"

The boy shakes his head. "No."

Ayan's brow furrows. "I saw you performing rituals in the slum."