The Illusion That Begs for Life
---31 May 2021 — 4:00 AM
Ruined Shrine's Overgrown Courtyard
The moon slipped behind the banyan canopy — its light pooling through gaps in twisted roots like a hundred watchful eyes.
Aadiv staggered through the courtyard's broken stones, barefoot, every step trailing drops of blood from the bandage on his forearm.
His veins still pulsed gold and black under the skin — the ember pushing back against the void's hunger.
His mind felt raw. Open.
Every tree branch looked like a finger pointing him toward a new nightmare.
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> Aadiv (hoarse whisper, to the roots above):
"Try again, then.
Show me what's left to burn."
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He felt it before he saw it: a shift in the air, a warmth that didn't belong here.
A figure sat cross-legged on the broken shrine steps — small, too small. Hair tied with an old ribbon he knew too well.
His sister.
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Her eyes met his — bright, alive, soft in the hush of the courtyard.
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> Sister (voice gentle, cracking like old paper):
"Bhaiya… I'm cold."
Aadiv's knees buckled. He dropped into the weeds, palms pressed to the dirt to keep from sinking into them forever.
The ember flickered in his ribs — rage, grief, the rift's bite all pulsing together like one heartbeat.
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> Aadiv (voice breaking, breath ragged):
"No.
You're gone. You don't get to come here."
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But the illusion crawled closer. Her hands — small, bruised from a memory he could never erase — reached for his face.
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> Sister (whispers, tears in her voice):
"Don't burn me. Please.
Keep me here. Keep me warm. I'll be good. I'll be quiet.
Please, bhaiya…"
---
The chain rune above his heart pulsed so hard he felt it echo through the cut on his arm.
Golden veins lit up his wrists — the flame demanded to feed, the void demanded to swallow, the illusions demanded to be real.
He wanted to say yes. Just for a heartbeat.
But he felt the Eclipse Chamber pulsing below — the Voice breathing through the shrine roots.
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> Inner Voice (soft, fatherly, cruel):
"Mercy is a chain.
Keep her — and you bind yourself.
Burn her — and you bind nothing."
---
The illusion pressed its cold cheek to his — and for one breath, it smelled like home.
He pressed his lips to her temple — no tears now, just the hiss of flame gathering at the back of his throat.
---
> Aadiv (voice a blade wrapped in grief):
"I love you.
But you're a lie."
---
He pressed his palm to the illusion's chest.
A flicker of golden flame.
A soft gasp — more a sigh than a scream.
The ghost cracked — shadows splitting like ash under the first touch of dawn.
She scattered through the courtyard roots, drifting down to feed the Eclipse Chamber's sleeping maw.
---
Aadiv stayed kneeling — fingers black with soot that wasn't real but smelled like burnt childhood.
The chain rune pulsed once — a link snapping in the dark, reforging itself around his ribs.
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> Inner Voice (low, pleased):
"A chain that devours mercy devours doubt.
One link tighter, my son.
One lie closer to ash."
Aadiv bared his teeth at the cracked shrine walls — eyes ringed gold, voice raw.
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> Aadiv (to the dark, the roots, the illusions that still dared to linger):
"No chains left for ghosts.
Only flame."
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Above him, the wind carried the last cinders of his sister's false warmth into the jungle canopy — a promise that the next lie would not beg so sweetly.
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