The red hills were silent that evening.
A dry wind moved across the rough land, carrying dust and the smell of old earth. The villagers believed nothing unusual ever happened there. The hills had stood for centuries—quiet, unmoving, and ordinary.
But they were wrong.
Eighteen-year-old Arjun had always felt something strange about the hills. While others saw dry soil and scattered trees, he felt watched. Not by a person… but by something older.
That evening, he was walking home after helping his father in the fields. The sun was sinking, painting the sky orange and dark red. As he kicked a loose stone from his path, something unusual caught his eye.
Half-buried in the soil was a flat black rock.
It did not belong there.
The hills were known for red laterite soil, not smooth black stone.
Curious, Arjun knelt down and brushed away the dust.
There were markings on it.
Not scratches.
Symbols.
Carefully carved symbols.
His heartbeat quickened.
The symbols formed a pattern—circles inside triangles, lines crossing at sharp angles. In the center, there was a single eye shape.
An eye.
Watching.
A sudden cold wind rushed past him.
The temperature dropped.
Arjun stood up quickly and looked around.
The hills were empty.
But he no longer felt alone.
He should have walked away.
He should have gone home.
Instead, he pulled the stone out of the ground completely.
Under it, he found something even more shocking.
A small metal object.
It looked like a key.
But not a normal key.
It was heavy, dark, and shaped like the same eye symbol carved on the stone.
And at that exact moment—
The ground beneath him trembled.
Just slightly.
But enough.
Arjun froze.
The hills had never shaken before.
From somewhere far away, deep inside the red hills, came a low sound.
Not thunder.
Not wind.
Something else.
Something awakening.
Arjun swallowed hard.
He didn't know it yet…
But he had just unlocked something that had been sleeping for hundreds of years.
And it was no longer alone.
de the red hills, came a low sound.
Not thunder.
Not wind.