The figure did not rush.
It did not speak.
It simply walked forward from the darkness as though it had always been there — waiting.
The tunnel lights flickered again, buzzing faintly above them. Dust floated in the dim air like suspended time.
Aarav felt something change inside him.
Not fear.
Not courage.
Something deeper.
Something ancient.
The notebook in his hands grew warm. Not burning — but alive.
Meera stepped slightly in front of him, instinctively protective. Her weapon was still raised, though her hands had tightened around it.
"Stay behind me," she whispered.
The figure finally stopped about fifteen feet away.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in dark, seamless fabric that seemed to absorb light instead of reflecting it.
Its face remained partially shadowed.
But the smile remained.
Calm. Knowing.
"You activated it faster than expected," the figure said.
The voice was deep — not loud, but it carried.
It didn't echo like normal sound. It felt like it vibrated through the walls.
Aarav swallowed. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head slightly.
"A better question is — what are you now?"
Meera's jaw tightened. "Step back," she ordered.
The figure ignored her.
Its eyes — now faintly visible — were not human in the way eyes should be.
They reflected no fear. No hesitation.
Only recognition.
"You feel it, don't you?" the figure asked Aarav.
And he did.
His heartbeat had slowed unnaturally.
His breathing was steady despite everything.
The air around him felt… different.
Denser.
Like invisible currents moving through it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Aarav replied, though his voice lacked conviction.
The figure's smile widened slightly.
"The transfer is complete."
Meera fired.
The gunshot exploded through the tunnel.
The bullet hit the figure directly in the chest.
It did not fall.
It did not bleed.
The metal round dropped to the ground with a hollow clang.
Aarav's stomach dropped.
The figure looked down at the bullet.
Then back at Meera.
"You were always impulsive," it said calmly.
Meera's eyes widened slightly. "You know me."
"Of course I do."
The figure stepped forward again.
Aarav suddenly felt pressure in his ears.
Like descending too quickly from high altitude.
The notebook flared with light.
Pain shot through his palm.
He gasped and nearly dropped it.
Symbols began glowing across the cover.
The circular mark expanded faintly — spreading like veins of light.
The figure's attention shifted fully to him.
"Yes," it murmured. "There it is."
Aarav staggered.
His vision blurred for a split second.
And then—
He saw something else.
Not the tunnel.
Not Meera.
Not the figure.
He saw fragments.
Images flashing violently in his mind.
A city burning.
A building collapsing.
A child standing alone in smoke.
The notebook floating midair.
A symbol carved into stone.
And the same figure — standing over bodies.
The vision ended as suddenly as it began.
Aarav stumbled back, breath shaking.
"What… was that?"
Meera grabbed his arm. "What did you see?"
Before he could answer—
The figure raised its hand.
The air rippled.
The tunnel lights shattered simultaneously.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Only the notebook glowed now.
Soft white lines tracing across its surface.
Aarav's heart thundered.
He couldn't see Meera.
Couldn't see the walls.
But he could sense the figure.
Not visually.
Energetically.
Like heat in a cold room.
"You are not ready," the figure said from somewhere unseen.
"Ready for what?" Aarav shouted.
"For what comes."
Suddenly—
The pressure intensified.
It felt like gravity had doubled.
His knees buckled.
Meera grunted beside him, struggling to stay upright.
"You're killing him!" she shouted into the darkness.
"No," the figure replied calmly.
"I am testing him."
Something inside Aarav snapped.
Not physically.
Internally.
The pressure didn't crush him.
It met resistance.
From him.
The glowing symbol on the notebook pulsed.
And for the first time—
The air pushed back.
A shockwave burst outward.
Invisible.
But powerful.
The oppressive force lifted instantly.
The darkness peeled away as emergency backup lights flickered on dimly.
Meera fell to one knee, catching her breath.
The figure had taken one step back.
Just one.
But it was enough.
It was the first reaction it had shown.
Interesting.
Aarav stared at his own hands.
They were trembling.
But not from weakness.
Energy hummed faintly beneath his skin.
The figure studied him differently now.
Less amused.
More calculating.
"It appears," it said slowly, "you inherited more than expected."
"Inherited from who?" Aarav demanded.
The figure was silent for a moment.
Then—
"The one who should have survived."
The crash.
The other driver.
The notebook carrier.
"You're saying I absorbed something?" Aarav asked.
"In a manner of speaking."
Meera stood up again, though she looked shaken.
"You're not taking him," she said firmly.
The figure looked at her almost sympathetically.
"I don't need to."
Its gaze returned to Aarav.
"He will come."
"I won't," Aarav shot back.
The figure smiled again.
"You already are."
And then—
It vanished.
Not in smoke.
Not in light.
Just… gone.
The tunnel fell into complete silence.
No footsteps.
No echo.
Nothing.
Aarav's breathing filled the space.
Meera lowered her weapon slowly.
"What just happened?" he asked.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she walked toward where the figure had stood.
There was no mark on the ground.
No trace.
She turned back to him.
"That," she said quietly, "was one of the Originals."
"Original what?"
"Guardians."
The word felt heavier now.
"You said I became one."
"Yes."
"Then what was that?"
She hesitated.
"The first."
Aarav's mind reeled.
"You're telling me there are more of these things?"
"Yes."
"And they're all… like that?"
"Stronger."
He stared at the notebook again.
The glow had faded.
But the symbol remained etched clearly on the cover.
Permanent now.
"Why test me?" he asked.
"To see if you would break."
"And?"
She met his eyes.
"You didn't."
Silence stretched between them.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed faintly — likely responding to the earlier explosion.
Reality creeping back in.
"We need to move," Meera said. "Both factions will regroup."
"Factions," he repeated bitterly. "You, them… and whatever that was."
She didn't correct him.
Instead, she asked softly, "What did you see when the notebook reacted?"
He hesitated.
Then described the burning city.
The child in smoke.
The carved symbol.
Her expression darkened.
"That wasn't random," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"Guardians don't protect the present."
Aarav frowned.
"They protect turning points."
His stomach tightened.
"What turning point?"
She looked toward the tunnel exit.
"The one that hasn't happened yet."
The weight of that realization pressed down harder than the earlier force.
He wasn't chosen to survive.
He was chosen for something coming.
Something catastrophic.
Aarav looked at his hands again.
They didn't look different.
But they felt different.
Charged.
Connected.
"Tell me the truth," he said quietly. "What's the cost?"
Meera didn't look away.
"Guardians don't live normal lives."
"That's not what I asked."
She took a breath.
"The power binds to you. Over time, it changes you."
"How?"
"You begin to see things before they happen. You sense fractures in reality. You stop belonging anywhere."
Aarav swallowed.
"And eventually?"
She held his gaze.
"You stop being entirely human."
The words settled between them.
Heavy.
Real.
Outside the tunnel, faint daylight filtered in.
A new day.
But nothing felt new.
Only altered.
Aarav slid the notebook back into his backpack.
"Then we don't wait for them," he said.
Meera's brow lifted slightly.
"We find answers first."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
He looked back toward the darkness where the Original had stood.
"You said there are others like him."
"Yes."
"Then we find one who talks."
For the first time since they met—
Meera smiled.
Not mocking.
Not guarded.
Impressed.
"Now you're thinking like a Guardian."
Aarav didn't smile back.
Because deep down—
He understood something terrifying.
The figure hadn't attacked to kill him.
It had tested him.
And somewhere out there—
It was watching.
Waiting.
For him to step fully into the role.
And for the first time since the accident—
Aarav felt the future pulling him.
Not gently.
But with force.
And this time—
He didn't resist.