The Fractured Truth

Ravi gasped as the world around them shifted. One moment, they were in the alley, cornered by the Archivists. The next, everything had gone dark—silent. Not just the absence of light, but the absence of everything. No wind, no echoes, no breath. Just an endless void. "Where are we?" Raj's voice sounded hollow, as if the space around them swallowed sound. Aarav clutched the book against his chest, his face pale. "I… I don't know." Meera turned in slow circles. "This isn't the market anymore. This isn't anywhere." The air felt heavy, pressing down on them. Something wasn't right.

Then, a whisper slithered through the void. "You shouldn't have spoken the name." The voice came from everywhere at once. Ravi's breath hitched. "Who—who's there?" The darkness around them shifted, pulsing like a living thing. "He remembers what was forgotten," the voice murmured. "And now the world must decide… to keep him, or erase him for good." Aarav's hands clenched into fists. "I won't let you erase me." The darkness trembled. "It is not your choice." The book in Aarav's hands flickered, its pages turning as if unseen hands were searching through it. "What's happening?" Raj demanded.

Meera's eyes darted to the book. "Something's rewriting it." Aarav tried to close it, but the book refused to shut. "No," the voice continued. "Something is remembering." The darkness rippled, and suddenly, shapes began to form—figures flickering in and out of existence. Ravi's stomach twisted. It was the schoolyard. Their old school. Their past, playing out before them. But something was wrong. The figures moved in eerie, unnatural loops. Teachers walking the same steps over and over. Students laughing at jokes that never ended. And at the center of it all… a boy sitting alone.

Aarav.

Only, it wasn't quite him. His face flickered, changing—blurring between someone they knew and someone they didn't. "That's me," Aarav whispered, stepping closer. The boy didn't react. He just sat, staring at nothing. Ravi reached out, but his hand passed through the image. "This is… a memory," Meera realized. "A trapped one." Aarav swallowed hard. "Then why don't I remember this?" The voice in the darkness whispered again. "Because it was taken from you." The world trembled. The memory-shadows faded. The book in Aarav's hands slammed shut with a final, deafening snap.

The darkness split open.

The next moment, they were back in the alley—except the Archivists were gone. The market had vanished. They were alone. "What the hell just happened?" Raj panted. Aarav looked down at the book. The cover was different now. Instead of a list of forgotten names, only one remained, etched in deep gold letters. A name none of them recognized. "This was… me?" Aarav muttered. Meera exhaled. "Maybe. Or maybe it's who they tried to make you into." Ravi frowned. "But if they wanted to erase him, why leave anything behind?"

Aarav turned the book over in his hands. "Maybe… because they couldn't." His voice was barely above a whisper. The Archivists had almost succeeded in erasing him. But something—someone—had fought against it. The name in the book wasn't just proof that he had once existed. It was proof that he still did. But that meant something else, too. If they had only almost erased him… then how many others had been lost completely? Aarav looked up at them. "We need to find out who else they took." The silence stretched between them. Finally, Ravi nodded. "Then let's start with the name in that book."

And somewhere, in the depths of the void, something watched.