Chapter 1 – The Surgery
The hospital was unusually silent that night.
An emergency case had just arrived. The patient's condition was critical. Blood loss was severe, and time was slipping away fast.
Senior doctors stood around the operation table, whispering among themselves.
"This surgery is too risky."
"If we make one wrong move, he won't survive."
"Shift him to another hospital."
But everyone knew the truth.
The patient didn't have enough time to survive the transfer.
Among them stood a young surgical intern — Rishi Kushwaha, twenty-four years old.
Calm on the outside.
Restless inside.
He looked at the unconscious patient… and something about the situation felt painfully familiar.
Memories flashed in his mind.
A hospital bed.
A weak heartbeat monitor.
His mother's trembling hand slipping from his fingers.
"Heart failure," they had said.
But Rishi had never believed that explanation.
He stepped forward.
"If we transfer him, he'll die on the way," Rishi said, his voice steady. "The surgery must be done now."
The senior doctors stared at him.
"You're just an intern," one of them said sharply. "This procedure requires years of experience."
Rishi's hands were cold.
The truth was… he had never performed a surgery this complex before.
Yet deep inside, he felt something strange.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Confidence.
As if these hands already knew what to do.
As if someone invisible was standing beside him… guiding him.
"I'll take responsibility," Rishi said quietly.
The room fell silent.
After a moment of hesitation, the senior surgeon finally nodded.
"Fine. Begin."
The operation started.
Scalpel in hand, Rishi made the first incision.
For a second, his vision blurred.
A cold sensation ran through his spine.
Then suddenly—
His movements became precise.
Too precise.
His hands moved with skill far beyond an intern's level. Every cut was accurate. Every stitch flawless.
The nurses exchanged shocked glances.
"This technique…" one whispered. "It looks exactly like Dr. Aryan Malhotra's style."
Rishi froze for a fraction of a second.
Dr. Aryan.
The brilliant surgeon who had died in a mysterious accident five years ago.
Rishi had never met him.
So how—
The heartbeat monitor stabilized.
The patient was safe.
The surgery was a success.
Later that night, Rishi stood alone in the empty corridor.
The fluorescent lights hummed softly above him.
He looked at his hands.
They were steady.
Too steady.
"I've never done that before…" he whispered to himself.
Behind him—
Footsteps echoed.
Slow.
Measured.
Rishi turned around.
No one was there.
But for a brief second… he felt a presence.
Not threatening.
Not hostile.
Watching.
And somewhere in the darkness of the hospital corridor…
a faint reflection appeared in the glass window.
It wasn't only Rishi standing there.
There was someone else beside him.