(Welcome 🙏🏻 here is the chapters 14….Please support me)
The city slept like a beast in slumber, its concrete arteries pulsing with the faint hum of machinery and electricity. But beneath the silence, beneath the shallow breaths of the unsuspecting, something ancient stirred. A whisper threaded through the night air, carried by the wind that seemed far too alive for a normal world.
Aisha, Armaan, and Rohit walked in silence along cracked sidewalks, the diary clutched in Aisha's trembling hands. Its golden glow was dim, yet insistent — a heartbeat they could all feel vibrating through the soles of their shoes, threading into their veins. The pulse was no longer just hers. It had grown into something shared, binding them tighter than blood.
"Do you feel that?" Rohit murmured, his voice barely above the whisper of leaves twisting in the wind. "It's… like the city itself is breathing."
Aisha nodded slowly, lips parted. Her fingers ran over the diary's surface, and a pulse of warmth rolled from her chest to her fingertips. It was subtle, almost gentle, but insistent. "It's not just the city," she whispered. "It's… responding."
Armaan scanned the streets. Shadows moved unnaturally along walls, though no one was there. "Veil operatives?" he asked, suspicion thick in his tone.
"No," Aisha said, shaking her head. "Not them… something else. Something old."
A sudden ripple of golden light shot from the diary, illuminating the alleyways like the sun breaking over a dark mountain. The shadows recoiled, almost as if they recognized the pulse, and for a fleeting second, the city itself felt alive — walls breathing, asphalt shivering, streetlights flickering in unison.
Rohit swallowed hard. "We're… too visible."
Aisha's pulse accelerated. She could hear it now — not in her ears, not in her chest, but in the city itself. It was faint, but undeniable: an echo of the Pulse spreading outward, searching for others who carried its mark.
"Then we have to move," Armaan said, his voice taut. "Before it draws attention we aren't ready for."
⸻
Elsewhere — The Veil Watches
High in a mirrored tower that scratched the clouds, monitors flickered to life across Veil Command Central. Red alarms illuminated the command room in a harsh glow. Every screen displayed the same data in scrolling lines:
PULSE DETECTED — THREE BEARERS — MARKS GLOWING
ACTIVATE HUNTERS — IMMEDIATE
DO NOT ENGAGE WITHOUT SUPERVISION
Veil officers moved like shadows themselves, silently executing orders. One of them, a woman with sharp eyes and a spine that didn't bend under authority, stepped forward.
"Track them. Do not interfere unless absolutely necessary. The pulse… it's evolving faster than expected," she said, voice flat, but the tension beneath it was palpable.
An officer hesitated. "Ma'am, if they evolve further—"
"They will," she cut him off. "And when they do… the world will bend to them or break. We will ensure it bends to us first."
The screens flickered, revealing the city in real time. Among the shadows, three faint golden glows moved like embers in the dark.
"Locate the nearest markers," she commanded. "I want full surveillance. Every heartbeat. Every move. We know they cannot hide from the Pulse — only from us."
⸻
The Pulse Begins to Speak
Aisha stopped at a cracked manhole cover. She could feel the diary thrumming against her chest with a warmth that bordered on pain. The pulse inside her — and inside the world — had started to speak. Not words. Not sentences. But visions.
Golden threads stretched across her mind, connecting dots: buildings, streets, unseen pathways, shadows lurking in alleyways. The Pulse was showing her the city as if it were alive, breathing, waiting, calculating.
She stumbled backward. "It's… guiding us," she whispered. "Not just the diary… the city… everything is… responding."
Armaan grabbed her elbow, steadying her. "Then we follow it," he said firmly. "Step by step. Eyes open, minds sharper."
Rohit peered into the distance. "And if it leads us somewhere… we're not ready for?"
Aisha's jaw tightened. "We have no choice."
⸻
The First Echo
As they moved through a deserted avenue, the golden glow from the diary pulsed harder. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the street, then solidified — faces, limbs, almost human, yet wrong. The three of them froze.
One shadow separated itself from the rest. It raised its hand. A single heartbeat of light emerged, connecting with the diary in Aisha's hands. The air around them shivered with energy.
A whisper formed in her mind, clear as day.
"The world will remember. The bearers have awakened. The first Echo is here."
The shadow dissipated before their eyes, but its presence lingered. A faint trail of golden sparks marked the path it had taken — leading them into the bowels of the city.
Rohit shivered. "That… was real."
Aisha nodded, her heartbeat syncing with the diary's pulse. "Real enough. And it's not the last."
Armaan's fists clenched. "Then let's make sure we're ready for the rest."
⸻
Veil Hunters in Motion
Elsewhere, black SUVs glided silently through the city. Inside, agents prepared specialized gear: masks that could detect Pulse marks, rifles that could temporarily suppress the diary's glow, neural disruptors designed to disorient anyone connected to it.
"Coordinates received," one agent said. "Three marks moving north-east from the old industrial district."
The team moved with perfect synchronization. Silence. Precision. Lethality. They were shadows among shadows, and their orders were simple:
Find the Pulse-bearers. Do not fail.
Rina's voice echoed through the comms, calm, lethal, and unmistakable.
"Do not engage unless necessary. Observe. They will lead us to the next sanctuary. We will be ready."
⸻
The Diary's Revelation
Aisha held the diary close, its pulse merging with hers. A flood of images, sensations, and warnings filled her mind. She saw…
• A building collapsing under unseen forces.
• People clutching their chests as golden sparks ignited faintly in their veins.
• Roads bending unnaturally as if the city itself were redirecting their steps.
• Faces — strangers and familiar — marked subtly with golden threads.
She gasped. "It's… it's everywhere," she whispered.
Armaan's eyes followed hers. "The Pulse is awakening more than just us… it's choosing others."
Rohit swallowed hard. "If the world starts waking up… we're not going to survive the chaos."
Aisha's grip on the diary tightened. "Then we make sure we control it… together."
⸻
The First Contact
They entered an abandoned warehouse, guided by the trail of golden sparks the first Echo had left. Inside, the space was cavernous, walls peeling, shadows stretching long under the moonlight that filtered through broken windows.
Suddenly, a figure stepped forward. Golden veins glimmered faintly beneath their skin. A pulse — matching the diary's rhythm — resonated in the air.
Aisha froze.
The figure's eyes met hers. Calm. Curious. And undeniably marked.
"Who… who are you?" Aisha whispered.
The figure smiled faintly. "Like you… I was chosen. The world does not remember, but the Pulse does. I am the first of many to come."
Armaan tightened his grip on his pipe. "And why are you here? Friend or foe?"
The figure's smile widened. "I am… a warning."
The golden glow in the warehouse intensified. Outside, the city trembled faintly. Somewhere far above, the Veil shifted, readying their next move.
And for the first time, Aisha realized the truth:
The world would never be the same again.