The Name That Shouldn’t Exist

The name on the book glowed faintly, its golden letters shifting under Aarav's fingers. "Vihaan," he read aloud. The moment the name left his lips, the air grew thick. A sharp crack echoed through the alley, like the sound of glass shattering. Meera grabbed his arm. "You shouldn't have said it out loud!" Ravi and Raj turned sharply, scanning their surroundings. The streetlights flickered violently. "It's like the name is reacting to something," Raj muttered. Aarav clenched the book tighter. "Or something is reacting to it." The ground beneath them trembled. And then, from the far end of the alley, a voice called out.

"Who said that name?"

They spun around. A shadow stood at the alley's entrance. Not quite human, not quite a blur. It was shifting, flickering, like it couldn't decide if it existed or not. "Who spoke his name?" the voice repeated, distorted and hollow. Ravi took a step forward. "Who are you?" The figure's head twitched unnaturally. "Who… am I?" It sounded almost confused. Then its form began changing. In an instant, it looked like a boy. Then a man. Then something else entirely. "What the hell?" Raj whispered. The figure jerked forward. "That name was not meant to be spoken!"

A gust of wind shot through the alley, knocking them back. Aarav's grip on the book loosened. The moment it slipped from his hands, the pages flipped wildly, as if unseen fingers were turning them. The name Vihaan pulsed brighter. The figure let out a sharp, inhuman hiss. "You don't understand what you've done," it rasped. Meera steadied herself. "Then tell us!" The figure's form flickered again—this time more violently. "The Archivists don't just erase people," it whispered. "They rewrite them." Aarav felt his stomach drop. "What do you mean?" The figure twitched again, its form distorting. "Vihaan didn't just disappear," it murmured. "He became someone else."

A cold silence filled the alley. Ravi felt his skin crawl. "You're saying… they didn't erase him. They changed him?" The figure nodded, its head tilting at an unnatural angle. "And if you keep searching," it said softly, "they'll do the same to you." The ground beneath them cracked. The shadows stretched, twisting toward them. "They're coming," the figure whispered. "You should run." The moment the words left its mouth, the entire alley ripped apart. Reality itself fractured. The last thing Ravi saw was the glowing name in the book, burning brighter—before everything collapsed into darkness.

They woke up somewhere else.

Ravi groaned, blinking against the dim light. The air was cold. He was lying on stone, rough and uneven. Raj sat up beside him, shaking his head. "Where are we now?" Aarav held the book tightly, as if afraid to let go. Meera took a deep breath. "We're not in the city anymore." The room they were in was massive, cavernous. Bookshelves lined the walls, stretching impossibly high. Faint golden light flickered from unseen sources. It looked like a library, but one that had been abandoned for centuries. Ravi exhaled. "This has to be one of their hidden archives."

Aarav stood, his gaze darting between the endless shelves. "If they rewrite people… then there must be records of who they used to be." He turned to them, determination in his eyes. "We can find Vihaan." Meera hesitated. "If we're here, then they know we're here." Raj sighed. "We never get a break, do we?" Footsteps echoed from deeper within the archive. Not hurried, but steady. Measured. A voice followed. "You shouldn't be here." Ravi tensed. From the shadows, a man stepped forward—tall, draped in dark robes. Unlike the other Archivists they had encountered, this one smiled. "But since you are," he continued, "let's make sure you never leave."

The library doors slammed shut behind them.