The Fractured Past

The bookstore remained eerily silent as Ravi clutched his wrist, the cold from the Shadow Room lingering on his skin. Aarav sat against the dusty shelves, eyes darting around as if expecting the darkness to return. "They're still watching," he repeated in a whisper. Raj ran a hand through his hair. "Then what do we do now? Keep running?" Meera knelt beside Aarav, her expression tense. "Running won't help. We need answers. The ones who erased Aarav—who erased others—won't stop until we're gone too." Ravi exhaled, glancing at the place where the vanishing door had been. "Then we find out who they really are."

Aarav swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "They call themselves the Archivists." Meera's face darkened. "I've heard that name before." Aarav nodded. "They control what is remembered and what is forgotten. If someone threatens their order, they erase them. Not just from records, but from existence itself." Raj scoffed, though unease crept into his voice. "Sounds like a bad conspiracy theory." Aarav's eyes were filled with something beyond fear. "You don't understand. I was gone. And if they realize I'm back, they'll come for me again." Ravi tightened his jaw. "Then we make sure they don't."

Meera stood, brushing dust from her clothes. "There's someone who might know more. But finding him is dangerous." Ravi raised a brow. "More dangerous than the Shadow Room?" Meera hesitated. "Maybe. He used to be an Archivist before he turned against them. Now he's in hiding, like I was." Aarav's voice wavered. "If he was one of them, why would he help?" Meera's gaze was unreadable. "Because he has no choice. They're after him too." Raj crossed his arms. "And where exactly do we find this guy?" Meera sighed. "If he's still alive… he'll be at the Forgotten Market."

The name sent a ripple of unease through them. The Forgotten Market was a place whispered about in the darkest corners of the city—a gathering ground for those who no longer existed. "How do we even get in?" Raj asked. Meera smirked. "The same way we got to the Shadow Room. With something that shouldn't exist." Aarav shifted uncomfortably. "Me." Meera nodded. "You're a paradox now, Aarav. Something erased that came back. The Market thrives on things like you." Ravi frowned. "Sounds like a trap." Meera shrugged. "It probably is. But we don't have a choice."

They left the bookstore under cover of night, slipping through the quiet streets. Aarav moved hesitantly, as if afraid the city itself would reject him. "I feel… wrong," he muttered. "Like I don't belong here." Ravi put a hand on his shoulder. "You do. They tried to erase you, but you're still here. That means something." Aarav gave a small, uncertain nod, but his haunted expression remained. Meera led them through twisting alleys, stopping at an unmarked door beneath an old train bridge. "This is it," she whispered. "Once we go in, there's no turning back."

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit passage. The air smelled of dust and something metallic. The deeper they walked, the more reality itself seemed to shift. Signs flickered between languages, objects appeared and disappeared in the corner of their eyes. "It's like we're walking between worlds," Raj muttered. Meera nodded. "In a way, we are." They reached a large iron gate, guarded by a hooded figure. Without a word, the figure raised a hand toward Aarav. A strange hum filled the air. The figure nodded once and stepped aside. "He is remembered," the guard murmured. "He may enter."

The Forgotten Market was unlike anything Ravi had seen. Stalls lined the cavernous space, selling things that shouldn't exist—memories in glass jars, names written on scraps of reality, lost time bottled like perfume. The people were just as strange—some half-transparent, others flickering as if caught between moments. Meera led them through the chaos until she stopped in front of a dimly lit booth. "This is him," she whispered. Behind the counter sat an old man, his eyes shadowed, his presence barely there. He looked up, his gaze sharp despite his faded form. "You shouldn't have come," he said softly. "The Archivists already know you're here."

Ravi felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Then we don't have much time." The man's expression remained unreadable. "No, you don't." He leaned forward. "You want to know the truth about the Archivists? About what they've done?" Aarav clenched his fists. "They stole my life. I want it back." The man studied him carefully. Then he whispered something that made Ravi's blood run cold. "You were never supposed to exist in the first place." The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Aarav paled. "What… what do you mean?" The man sighed. "You were erased for a reason. And if you knew why… you might wish you had stayed forgotten."