The First Clue

Aryan sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside, a sound that now felt alien and oppressive. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. The temple was gone. Religion was gone. And he was the only one who remembered.

He glanced at his laptop, still open on the desk. The screen displayed the news article he'd been reading—a grim report on the latest war sparked by the Order of the Eternal Flame. The words blurred as his eyes filled with tears. How could the world have changed so drastically overnight? And why was he the only one who noticed?

"You're not alone," the voice had said. But who—or what—was speaking to him? And why had they chosen him?

Aryan stood up, his legs shaky, and walked to the window. The city stretched out before him, bathed in the cold light of the morning sun. It looked the same as it always had, and yet... it wasn't. The cracks in the world were invisible to everyone but him, but they were there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to split wide open.

He needed answers. And there was only one place he could think to start.

The park where the temple had once stood was eerily quiet. The rusted gate creaked as Aryan pushed it open, the sound echoing in the stillness. He stepped inside, his footsteps crunching on the gravel path. The air smelled of damp earth and decaying leaves, a far cry from the incense and warmth he remembered.

He walked to the center of the park, where the temple's altar had once been. Now, there was only a broken bench and a patch of overgrown grass. He knelt down, running his fingers over the ground. It felt real—solid and unyielding. But it wasn't right. None of this was right.

"What happened here?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

As if in response, a faint glint caught his eye. Something was buried in the dirt, just beneath the surface. He dug his fingers into the soil, pulling out a small, metallic object. It was a piece of technology—sleek and unfamiliar, with a faint glow emanating from its core. On its surface was a symbol: a flame encircled by a serpent.

Aryan's breath hitched. This wasn't from his world. It couldn't be. The design was too advanced, too... alien. He turned it over in his hands, his mind racing. Was this the key to everything? The tool the time traveler had used to rewrite history?

"You're getting closer," the voice said, its tone calm but urgent. "But you must be careful. They're watching."

Aryan's head snapped up, his eyes scanning the park. The voice had been clear this time, as if its source was nearby. But there was no one there—just the empty park and the cold morning light.

"Who's watching?" he asked, his voice trembling.

There was no answer. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

Aryan slipped the artifact into his pocket and stood up, his heart pounding. He needed to get out of here. If the Order was watching, he couldn't afford to be caught with something like this.

But as he turned to leave, he heard footsteps behind him. Heavy, deliberate footsteps. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turned around.

Three figures stood at the edge of the park, their faces obscured by hoods. They wore black robes adorned with the symbol of the Eternal Flame, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. Order enforcers.

Aryan's mind raced. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't outrun them. His only chance was to stay calm and hope they hadn't seen the artifact.

"What are you doing here?" one of the enforcers demanded, his voice cold and authoritative.

"I... I was just taking a walk," Aryan stammered, his voice shaking. "I needed some air."

The enforcer stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "This park is off-limits. You know the rules."

Aryan nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I'll leave right now."

The enforcer studied him for a moment, then nodded. "See that you do. And don't let us catch you here again."

Aryan turned and walked away, his legs trembling with every step. He could feel their eyes on his back, watching him until he was out of sight.

Aryan didn't stop walking until he was several blocks away, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He leaned against a wall, his mind racing. The Order was watching him. They knew something was off. He couldn't do this alone.

But who could he turn to? His parents didn't remember the temple. His friends didn't even know what religion was. He was alone in a world that no longer made sense.

The voice had said he wasn't alone. Maybe there were others like him—others who remembered the old world. He just had to find them.

As if on cue, a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him into an alley. Aryan stumbled, his heart leaping into his throat. He turned to face his attacker, but the words died on his lips.

It was a woman, her face hidden beneath a hood. She pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for silence, then gestured for him to follow. Aryan hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to run. But something in her eyes—something fierce and determined—made him stay.

She led him through a maze of alleys, finally stopping at a door hidden behind a dumpster. She knocked twice, paused, then knocked three more times. The door opened, revealing a dimly lit room filled with people. They were all dressed in plain clothes, their faces tense but resolute.

"Welcome to the Echoes," the woman said, pulling back her hood to reveal a face marked by scars and determination. "We've been waiting for you."

The woman introduced herself as Leila, the leader of the Echoes. She explained that they were a small group of rebels who remembered the old world—the world before the Order of the Eternal Flame. They had been fighting against the Order in secret, searching for a way to reverse the changes to the timeline.

"We've been looking for someone like you," Leila said, her eyes locking onto Aryan's. "Someone who can see the changes. Someone who remembers."

Aryan's heart raced. He wasn't alone. There were others like him. But before he could respond, Leila's expression turned grim.

"The Order is powerful," she said. "They control everything—the government, the media, even people's minds. But they're not invincible. We've been gathering information, trying to find a way to stop them. And now, with your help, we might just have a chance."

Aryan nodded, his resolve hardening. He didn't know what he was getting into, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn't let the Order win. No matter the cost.

----- to be continued-----