Bishnupriya_Parida

Aarav awakens in a world that defies logic—a place where time distorts, shadows move on their own, and the walls seem to whisper secrets. He doesn’t remember how he got here, but he knows one thing: he is not alone.

Then he sees her. A girl with piercing golden eyes who speaks in riddles and seems to understand the chaos surrounding them. She warns him—this place is not just a prison, it’s a test. And those who fail? They vanish.

As unseen forces close in, Aarav must navigate a labyrinth of shifting corridors and cryptic messages. Every step brings him closer to the truth, but also to something darker—a secret buried within himself, waiting to be unlocked.

The rules of reality no longer apply. If Aarav doesn’t escape soon, he won’t just lose his life—he’ll lose himself.

The Reflection Paradox

Aarav's consciousness flickered in and out.

He wasn't sure if he was awake or trapped in some fragmented nightmare. His body felt weightless, floating in a void. But the voices—those voices—kept whispering.

His eyes snapped open, and he gasped.

He wasn't in the Core Vault anymore. He was lying on a cold metal floor, his head pounding. A dim, blue light flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the room.

The girl was crouched beside him, shaking his shoulder. "Aarav! Wake up!"

His mind reeled. "W-What happened? Where are the Watchers?"

She exhaled, relieved. "They almost had you. But the system reset. It bought us time."

Aarav sat up, his head spinning. "System… reset?"

She stood, checking the room. "We're in a backup space. A corrupted layer of the facility. But it won't hold for long."

Aarav forced himself to focus. The walls around them looked strange—glitching, shifting between solid metal and empty blackness.

A screen in the corner of the room. It was flickering, static dancing across it. And on that screen—

It wasn't a recording. It was a live feed.

The version of him on the screen was strapped to a chair, unmoving. Electrodes covered his temples, and a dozen cables were plugged into his arms.

His own voice—distorted, mechanical—played from the speakers.

"Subject-017. Neural degradation at 43%. Memory stabilizers failing. Protocol restart required."

Aarav's hands clenched into fists. "What the hell is this?"

The girl stared at the screen, her face pale. "It's you."

Aarav shook his head. "No. I'm right here!"

"Fragment instability detected. Preparing for termination."

He turned to the girl. "Tell me what's going on. Now."

She hesitated. "Aarav… you're—"

Three of them stepped through the smoke, their masks flickering. One of them spoke—its voice now eerily familiar.

"You were never meant to wake up."

Aarav's mind snapped. The same words. The same voice.

He wasn't just fighting for survival anymore.

He was fighting to prove that he even existed.

They sprinted into the glitching hallway. The walls twisted, the air itself feeling unstable. Behind them, the Watchers moved with eerie precision, their hands reshaping into crackling, jagged devices.

The Broken Loop