Bhopal, 2010.
A crowd of 15 to 16 men stood outside a small house, shouting slogans. In the chaos, one man hurled a burning firewood into the window.
Within seconds, the house caught fire, flames licking the sky. The men waved green flags—marked with the symbol of the Tareekh-e-Insaf political party.
Panic spread. Police sirens screamed in the distance. An army van followed, pulling into the narrow street. Seeing them, the group scattered like shadows, vanishing into alleys.
From inside the burning house, a child's scream pierced the air.
A police officer broke through the door, fighting the heat and smoke. Inside, he found a 7-year-old girl, covered in ash and trembling in fear, crying in pain. He grabbed her and tried to escape, shielding her with his own body.
With great effort, he managed to push her outside to safety.
But he collapsed, overcome by the flames and smoke—giving his life to save hers.
The girl survived.
But her eyes would forever carry the memory of fire, loss, and a hero she never got to thank.
Suddenly, Rohan appeared—right between Mahi and the evil soul approaching her.
His presence blocked the darkness like a shield.
He looked at her with calm eyes.
His voice was soft, but steady. "Mahi..."
Mahi gasped. Her body, once frozen, suddenly moved. She woke up, her eyes wide with shock.
She looked around, confused, still catching her breath.
Mahi lay asleep in her bedroom, alone, high on the 10th floor.
The window was slightly open. Cold wind drifted in, gently swaying the white curtains.
Outside, the full moon lit up the sky. Its light fell softly across her bed.
Suddenly, her body stirred.
She gasped and sat up, breathing fast—as if waking from a deep nightmare.
There was no one in the room. No sound, no presence. Just the quiet hum of night.
Then her eyes drifted to the window.
She saw the moon, full and bright.
And for a brief second… she felt like someone had just been there. Watching her. Protecting her.
Suddenly, from the corner of the room, deep in the shadows, a voice echoed softly—
"What was your pact?"
Mahi's eyes widened in fear.
She quickly grabbed her pillow, clutching it tightly against her chest, trying to cover herself. The voice was low… but strangely familiar.
She stammered, "Wh… Who is there?"
The shadow began to move, slowly taking shape… becoming clearer… more human.
It was Rohan.
Mahi gasped. She sat up straight, her fear turning into annoyance and anger.
"Do you have any manners?" she shouted.
"You just entered a girl's room like that?!"
Rohan said nothing. He stood there, calm and cold, his expression unreadable.
Mahi wasn't done.
"Knocking is basic manners!" she snapped, pointing at the door.
Rohan's eyes didn't move. He just stared… silent… like he knew something she didn't.
Rohan kept looking at her… then slowly turned his head toward the window. The moonlight reflected off his faint, glowing outline. The curtains fluttered in the cold wind.
Mahi, still fuming, followed his gaze — but then something hit her.
She suddenly remembered.
Rohan was dead.
What she was seeing… standing in front of her… was a shadow soul.
Her anger faded, replaced by confusion and unease.
She sat up straighter, holding her pillow tightly.
"Even ghosts should learn that…"
Mahi bit her lip, half-embarrassed, half-nervous.
Rohan turned his eyes back to her, silently watching — as if waiting.
Then Mahi broke the silence.
"Tell me..." she said quietly, voice trembling just a little.
"Who are you, really?"
Her eyes didn't leave his.
She wanted answers.
She needed them.
Rohan looked into her eyes — steady, unwavering.
> "You'll know everything about me," he said in a calm, low voice, "once you meet Suryavanshi."
Mahi's expression changed. Confusion, curiosity… even a trace of fear.
She sat still, eyes fixed on him.
Rohan turned his back to her, facing the window again.
> "Now you tell me," he said, voice cold. "What is your pact?"
Mahi looked down at her bed. Her fingers gripped the edge of the blanket.
Her mind scrambled for something — a memory, a sign, an answer.
After a long silence, she finally muttered:
> "I… I don't remember."
Rohan didn't turn.
> "You don't know… what pact you made with the White Witch?"
Her voice was barely a whisper.
> "No…"
Rohan turned his head sharply toward her, his eyes burning.
> "How can you be so dumb?" he snapped.
His voice echoed through the room — more than anger, it held frustration… maybe even fear.
Mahi flinched, shocked by the sudden outburst.
She stared at him. Hurt. Silent.
A tear rolled down Mahi's cheek.
Rohan saw it.
And suddenly, the weight of his words hit him.
His anger, once sharp and loud, now dulled by guilt.
He looked away — ashamed.
His breathing slowed, and his shoulders dropped slightly, trying to calm himself.
But Mahi — she didn't stay quiet.
She stood up from the bed, her steps firm, angry.
She walked toward him and faced him head-on.
Her voice cracked, but her eyes were fierce.
"Because I was a kid that time…"
She stared into his eyes, refusing to let her tears define her.
"I don't remember the pact because I didn't even understand what it meant back then."
Rohan stayed still, his expression unreadable.
"You think I chose this? You think I wanted to forget?"
Her voice trembled — not from fear, but from pain.
Rohan looked at her. Truly looked.
And for the first time, he saw the weight she carried too.
Two broken pasts.
Rohan turned to the window. The moonlight touched his face, revealing the silence in his eyes.
"It's not over yet…" he said quietly.
Mahi sat back down on the bed, wiping away her tears.
She looked at him, confused.
"What do you mean?"
Rohan didn't turn to her. He kept staring out.
"My shadow soul… it's still missing."
Mahi blinked. She tried to understand.
"Wait… shadow souls have shadow souls too?"
Rohan finally turned his head toward her and shook it slowly.
"No. Only vessels have shadow souls."
She stared at him, her voice softer now.
"So… you were a vessel?"
He nodded, his voice steady.
"Just like you."
There was silence for a moment, then he continued.
"But I lost mine. I lost my shadow soul… and that's why I failed. That's why I lost the fight with Kadambari."
Mahi's eyes widened slightly. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"And you died…"
Rohan didn't answer.
Mahi looked down at the bed. Her hand clutched the edge of the bedsheet.
The room was quiet again, only the soft sound of the night wind moving the curtains. Two people, now bound by something deeper — a past neither fully understood, and a future shadowed by unanswered questions.
Mahi took a deep breath, her eyes steady on Rohan.
"It's been three months now. We won. Kadambari is gone… vanished from the earth."
Rohan floated slowly in the room, his gaze distant.
"I never confirmed that," he said flatly.
Mahi sat upright, alarm rising in her voice.
"You mean… she could come back?"
Rohan turned slightly, his face calm but firm.
"That's not our concern right now."
A heavy silence filled the room. The curtains moved gently in the wind. Rohan, still in his soul form, hovered a few inches above the floor and began drifting toward the door.
"We need to find where my shadow soul has gone."
Mahi stood up, her voice quiet but serious.
"Without it… you can't stay here for long, can you?"
Rohan didn't answer. He simply opened the door without touching it, the cold air from the hallway brushing into the room.
He turned back one last time.
"If I don't find it… I won't be able to protect any vessel. Not even you."
Then he vanished into the hallway's darkness, leaving Mahi alone, once again staring into the unknown.