Chapter 8 - The Path of No Return

The night was restless. A storm brewed in the distance, thunder rumbling like a warning from the heavens. Haider stood by his office window, staring at the city lights. He had spent years building an empire, shielding himself from the world, but tonight, something felt different.

A strange unease gnawed at him.

His phone vibrated.

Unknown Number.

He hesitated before answering. "Who is this?"

A distorted voice replied, low and deliberate. "The past never stays buried, Haider."

His grip on the phone tightened. "What do you want?"

A chuckle echoed through the line. "Come and find out."

And then, the call ended.

Haider's pulse hammered in his ears. Was this a prank? Or had his past finally caught up to him?

•A Mysterious Invitation

Haider arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, following the address sent to him. The air was thick with the scent of rust and damp wood. The metal door creaked as he stepped inside.

A single light flickered overhead.

And then—he saw her.

Abrish.

She stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her face.

"You?" Haider's voice was sharp. "What the hell is going on?"

She didn't answer. Instead, a figure emerged from the shadows—a man in his late fifties, his sharp eyes filled with a strange amusement.

"Welcome, Haider," the man said smoothly. "It's time we talked about the truth."

Haider's instincts screamed danger. "Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Someone who knows the secrets you've tried so hard to forget."

•The Truth Unveiled

Abrish turned to Haider, her voice quieter than usual. "I didn't plan for this. But I had no choice."

Haider felt something cold settle in his chest. "Choice about what?"

The older man stepped forward. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Haider studied him, but nothing clicked.

The man sighed. "Perhaps you were too young. But your father and I… we were business partners once."

Haider stiffened. His father. A man he had buried in his memory long ago.

"He betrayed me," the man continued. "And now, you're paying the price for his sins."

The room spun. "What do you mean?"

Abrish's voice trembled. "He's the reason my family was destroyed, Haider. Your father… ruined everything."

Haider took a step back. "That's not possible."

The older man smirked. "You'll soon find out just how possible it is."

•A Dangerous Journey Begins

Before Haider could react, the doors behind him slammed shut.

And the lights cut out.

A gun clicked somewhere in the darkness.

Haider's body tensed. "What the hell is this?"

"Consider this a test," the man's voice echoed. "You want the truth? You'll have to earn it."

A sudden rush of footsteps. A struggle in the dark.

And then—silence.

Haider's breath was ragged. He reached out, but Abrish was gone.

So was the old man.

And as the first drop of rain hit the dusty floor, Haider realized—this was only the beginning.

•Unheard Thoughts : The Echos of My Existence 

The room was wrapped in darkness, broken only by the faint glow of a side lamp. Shadows stretched across the walls, their shapes shifting with the soft flicker of light. The air was thick with silence, heavy, almost suffocating.

At the center of it all, a lone figure sat hunched over a book, fingers absently tracing the edges of the worn-out pages. A pen hovered above the paper, moving sluggishly as if the words were being dragged rather than written.

A deep sigh echoed in the quiet. The figure's eyes lingered on the half-written lines, thoughts tangled in a web of unspoken truths.

"Some things are never spoken. Some questions are never asked. I have them too—questions I can't bring myself to voice, thoughts I can't seem to share. And even if I tried… I wouldn't know how. Strange, isn't it?"

Who is a man ?What is his purpose? And why is he here?

I often look at people and think they are cruel. But if I am one of them… does that make me cruel too?

A voice inside me whispers, "I don't know. But I do know this—no one is entirely good or entirely bad. If someone believes they are good, they might be good for 99% of people, maybe even 99.9%. But in someone's story, they are still the villain. And if a person thinks they are worthless, unwanted… they're not as terrible as they believe. Because somewhere, in someone's story, they are the angel."

But this isn't about people. This is about me. Who am I? Why was I sent into this world?

I feel like an outsider—lost, misplaced, as if I don't belong anywhere.

Does it even matter to know who we are? I believe it does. If someone asks you who you are, what will you say? Just your name? A basic introduction? That's not enough. I don't want to live a life where I have to introduce myself—where I have to explain who I am. I want to be someone the world already knows.

I refuse to live a life that's just a routine—being born, eating, studying, working, and then fading into silence. What's the point in that? We only get one life. And mine… mine is meant for something greater.

Who am I?

That's the ultimate question, isn't it?

Are you the name given to you at birth? The roles you play in life? The mistakes you've made, or the dreams you chase? Are you what others perceive you to be, or something even you haven't fully discovered yet?

Maybe who you are isn't a fixed answer—it's a journey. A constant search. A transformation.

You are the battles you fight in silence, the hopes you refuse to let go of, the scars that made you stronger, and the fire within that refuses to die.

My dreams stretch beyond the ordinary—beyond the limits people set for themselves. I believe I was made for the heights, for a purpose far beyond mediocrity. I want to leave behind a legacy so powerful that centuries from now, people will remember my name.

But before I can do that… I must find the answer to the one question that haunts me.

So perhaps the real question isn't "Who am I?" but rather, "Who do I choose to become?"