Prologue and Chapter - 1
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Prologue :- The book and the calf.
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Inside a large, spacious room of a quiet realm, a young buffalo calf, no larger than a book, wandered playfully, wiggling its tail around as it tried to bite it.
Its glossy black skin shimmered faintly as it skipped around, trying to catch its tail. During its swirling, its small, shiny horns nudged a book.
On a large wooden table, which was a little bigger than the calf, a peculiar book was placed right at the corner. With the calf's playful push, the book shook, causing it to slide off.
Just as the book was falling, the floor disappeared, and a black, mysterious, swirling hole appeared just beneath the falling book. But just before the book was about to fall into the hole, the playful calf snapped one of its pages, preventing it from falling.
"Moof!" The calf had just taken a sigh of relief when it heard a _tear_. The page it bit on tore apart from the book and fell into that void hole, causing the calf to stumble into a backward roll.
With the page still in its mouth, it shook its head. After a quick look around to make sure nobody had seen its blunder, the calf dived into the void hole, trying to catch the book.
The book continued to fall, gaining speed into the dark void of space. Behind it followed the calf, still holding the torn page. It moved its small hooves, trying to stop the book from falling further, but the book remained beyond its reach.
Soon, the book appeared in the expanse of space, glowing faintly as it hurtled toward a bright blue planet in the distance. The calf trailed after it, with a determined look on its face as it snorted, "Moo" `( •̀ ⧗ •́ )`.
As the book descended toward the planet, it began to tear apart. Soon, it tore into two halves, and at that very moment, the blue planet below trembled and began to split into two identical planets, with a huge swirling black vortex forming between these two identical plates.
The two halves of the book propelled themselves toward the two planets, with the calf, holding the torn page, still in pursuit.
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CHAPTER - 1 NEIL AND THE MYSTERIOUS BOOK
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**
Here are your belongings. Sign here before taking them," a prison assistant said, handing a register to the man in shabby clothes sitting on the other side of a glass window.
Neil signed in the pointed area.
After the procedure, the assistant signaled to the prison guard standing beside him. The guard uncuffed Neil and escorted him out of the prison.
Neil didn't reply, just gave a brief nod before stepping out. Soon, he realized it was actually warmer inside. Dressed in his thin, shabby summer clothes, Neil truly felt the bite of the sharp winter wind.
"Funny how the cold out here bites harder than the prison walls ever did," Neil said to himself, looking at the cold, barren surroundings.
There were just muddy paths around. Nearby, some piles of screed and coarse sand were formed, with bulldozers standing idle.
It was barren as far as the eye could see, with only a couple of dried trees standing alone in the winter wind.
"God writes our fate in their book, so everything that happens is for good. Isn't that what you used to tell me, Maa?" Neil said, glancing at the cold sky, recalling what his mother used to say to him when he was little.
'Did he forget to write mine, or did he have some feud with me in my past life?'
He stood there for a bit, just glaring at the hazy sky. Lots of thoughts raced through his mind.
He chose to ignore them. With a quick sigh, he slung his backpack over his shoulders and began walking toward the highway.
After spotting a cab coming, he flagged it down and climbed in. It was warm inside. His hardened skin finally loosened up in the cab's warmth. He handed a small piece of paper to the driver, who glanced at it and started driving.
"Kids these days. It's freaking cold outside, and you still roam around in these light clothes," the elderly cab driver said sarcastically, glancing at Neil in the rearview mirror.
Neil responded with a wry smile as he lowered his head.
It didn't affect him much because somewhere inside, he knew that it wasn't the driver's fault. Anyone who would see him wearing such light clothes in winter would think that way.
Seeing Neil's reaction, the driver stopped asking further questions. Still, as Neil continued to shiver and sneeze throughout the ride, the driver kept throwing concerned glances at him from the rearview mirror.
The cab pulled up near a medical store. The driver got out, and after some time, returned holding a brown paper bag in his hand. "Here, take this," he said, passing the bag to Neil. Inside were some medicines.
'What? What's with him, giving me some strange paper bag?' Neil thought with a confused expression on his face.
"Take it. It's medicine," the driver added, his face holding a scolding expression.
"But—" Neil tried to refute, anyone would.
'Nobody could be this kind. Why would someone help somebody they just met?' He thought
It wasn't Neil's fault for thinking like that. This thinking of his was the result of the harsh experiences he had built up over the past four years of coming to the city. Even if someone kind showed any sort of help, he would be suspicious of it.
"Just take it. Seeing your situation, I doubt you even have enough money to pay for the ride," the elderly driver insisted.
But Hearing this broke all of Neil's assumptions, shocking him. "If-if he knew, then why would somebody selflessly help someone? I doubt there could be such people in this cold world."
Neil couldn't muster a single word. He silently took the bag. The cab continued its journey until it pulled up to a building complex.
Getting off, Neil took some money out of his pocket and handed it to the driver. "I still had some," he said in a soft voice.
The elderly driver smiled at him, accepted the fare, and left.
Seemingly, the cab driver understood his situation—that it wasn't that he was wearing these clothes to show off his strength in the winter or for some short fashion show-off, but because he only had these clothes to wear.
After the cab faded into the white haze, Neil turned toward an old building complex. Its paint had faded, barely visible anymore. His apartment was on the second floor—a small unit with a dented metal door. He unlocked it with a key.
The door groaned,
His apartment was a 1-BHK: a room straight from the entrance, a bathroom to the left of the straight corridor, and a kitchen that was part of the corridor. A small balcony lay behind the single room.
As Neil entered, the first thing that greeted him was clothes brushing against his feet. Clothes were scattered all over the room. Drawers from the stools were pulled out, their contents spilling over. The furniture was scattered, with some pieces broken. The mattress on the bed looked like it had been thrown aside.
All in all, his apartment was a mess. On top of everything, layers of dust had settled over the furniture and the clothes strewn around.
"At least they shouldn't have made it obvious," Neil muttered under his breath. He placed his bag on a nearby stool and let out a soft sigh before gathering the scattered clothes and tossing them into a basket. He lifted the fallen furniture, grabbed a broom, and started sweeping away the dust.
The state of his apartment didn't shock him much—it was almost as if he had anticipated it.
'All are scavengers. They just squeeze every last drop out of you until there's nothing left,' he thought, clenching his teeth.
But soon, he knew that pondering over the past wouldn't do any good. If it did, it would have, when he was in prison.
So the only solution was to move forward without needlessly pondering over the past.
After he finished dusting, he picked up a battered old radio from the floor. Carefully, he fixed its broken antenna, replaced the rusted batteries with some he found in a drawer, and twisted the dial to search for a signal.
'At least something is here to keep me company,' Neil thought, allowing a slight smile as he continued cleaning.
"Phew, finally done." The house now felt a little more livable to him. The mattress was dusted off and placed back on the bed. The clothes were no longer scattered across the floor, and the dust was gone. The air felt a little lighter.
"
"According to the DMD, minor tremors of earthquakes might be felt in several areas across the country. This has been associated with the meteor shower. Astrologists suggest that—"
Neil switched off the radio, wanting to save the battery. He picked up his backpack from the stool. "Huh? Why does it feel heavy?" he wondered.
It felt much heavier than before. He hadn't purchased or added anything to it, and the bag of medicine the elderly driver gave him was too light to make a difference.
Placing the backpack on the bed, he unzipped it. First, he pulled out the bag of medicine, but his expression changed as he retrieved the next item.
"Huh?!" What he pulled out was a book.
"Aye? What is this book?" He turned it around to inspect it. It looked old, with a hard, cardboard-like cover.
"Neither did I put it in, nor do I recall anyone else doing so. Could it have been someone from the prison?" he suspected. "Or was it the cab driver?"
"No, it can't be. I didn't even leave my backpack alone for a moment, I am sure, so where did this book come from?"
Neil was bewildered. He never had an interest in books, nor the luxury of reading them in prison, so he was certain it wasn't his. The only possibility he could think of now was that maybe someone from the prison had put it in the backpack.
"But why? Why would someone put some book in my bag?"
Curious, he flipped through some pages and stopped at one. Something was written on the left page. Although only a few lines were written, what was there blew Neil's mind.
**