Early morning.
The sun was still asleep.
A violent knock slammed against Amitesh's door — once, twice, then continuously — loud enough to tear him out of sleep.
"Amitesh! Open the door quickly!" Gauri's voice shouted from the other side.
He didn't waste time. Barefoot and half-awake, he rushed and pulled it open.
The door creaked loudly.
Gauri stood in front of him — hair slightly messy, eyes blazing.
Behind her, Zoey covered her nose with both hands, face pale, eyes watery.
Before he could ask anything, they pushed inside like they owned the place.
Zoey didn't say a word. She rushed straight toward the bathroom.
The door slammed shut.
Gauri grabbed Amitesh by his shirt collar and shook him violently.
The last traces of sleep vanished instantly.
"Idiot! Why do you always cause trouble?! What the hell did you do this time?!"
"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything. And stop shaking me!"
She released him with a sharp exhale.
The System's voice echoed lazily inside his head.
System: Oh? Do you understand now how it feels to be shaken like that?
Amitesh blinked repeatedly, trying to stabilize his spinning vision.
"Hey… I understand. But what happened?"
System: What happened? You're seriously asking that?
"I really don't know." He turned toward
Gauri. "And why are you blaming me? I was sleeping."
She crossed her arms.
"I don't know either. But somehow whenever chaos happens, your name is attached."
30 Minutes Earlier
Gauri's apartment.
She was sleeping peacefully, wrapped in her blanket, one leg half out, completely unaware of the world.
Then—
System: Gauri. Wake up. There's a problem. Amitesh caused trouble again.
"Huh… let me sleep. I'll deal with it later," she muttered, shifting lazily.
Silence.
Then suddenly—
An invisible force shoved her straight off the bed.
Her head lightly hit the wall.
She shot up instantly.
"You did the same thing when we met the first time!" she yelled angrily at the empty air. "I really don't like when someone disturbs my sleep. Except Mom and Dad."
System: Go to Amitesh. Now.
Back to Present---
Gauri glared at him.
"So. This is what happened."
Amitesh stared at her.
"…You're telling me I'm responsible because your imaginary voice threw you off the bed?"
Inside his head, the System laughed softly.
System: Interesting. You truly don't remember.
That sentence lingered longer than it should have.
Amitesh's expression shifted — just slightly.
"What," he said slowly, "did I forget?"
System: You forgot nothing, idiot. Don't act innocent.
Amitesh frowned. "Then what?"
A pause.
Then the System spoke again — slower this time.
System: Tell me… what exactly did you say to sister-in-law last night?
He blinked. "What?"
System: Do you have any idea what she is doing right now?
Amitesh felt a strange unease crawl up his spine.
"No."
The System exhaled dramatically.
System: She is currently threatening Swapna — the goddess of dreams — to forcefully appear in your dreams… and then erase those dreams afterward so you won't remember her visiting.
Silence.
"…What?"
System: Do you know the kind of headache I am dealing with right now?
Divine-level ego clashes. Emotional instability. Cosmic territorial disputes. All before sunrise.
Amitesh rubbed his forehead.
"That's not my fault."
System: Oh really? And who told her — and I quote — 'I don't want to see you even in my dreams'?
He froze.
Gauri narrowed her eyes. "Why do you look guilty?"
"I'm not guilty."
System: You triggered a goddess insecurity spiral.
"…That's not a real term."
System: It is now.
There was a faint distortion in the air — almost imperceptible.
Like something far away was being pressured.
The System's tone shifted slightly.
Still sarcastic.
But tighter.
System: If she drags Swapna into this and destabilizes dream authority, I will have to intervene.
"And?"
System: And I dislike intervening directly.
Amitesh lowered his hand slowly.
"What happens if you do?"
A brief silence.
System: Let's just say… your local gang problem will become the least interesting crisis in your life.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Zoey stepped out of the bathroom, looking confused.
"Why does it feel like someone is arguing in the sky?"
Gauri stared at Amitesh.
"What. Did. You. Do."
Amitesh sighed.
"…Apparently, I rejected a goddess too honestly."
The System muttered:
System: And now I have to manage divine drama before breakfast. I need a raise.
Zoey stepped forward and slapped the back of Amitesh's head hard.
"Hey! What was that for?" he said, rubbing the spot.
"Oh, you don't know? Just look at me."
Amitesh turned toward her properly.
There were bandages across her nose.
Cotton was stuffed in her left nostril, slightly red.
He blinked. "What happened?"
"I twisted my leg on those metal strings you placed," Zoey said angrily. "I fell straight on my face. My nose broke."
"…Oh."
Gauri crossed her arms.
"Care to explain?"
Amitesh scratched the back of his neck. "Well… sorry."
Zoey stared at him in disbelief.
"Sorry?" she repeated. "Do you think it's enough to just say sorry after what you did to the face of a beautiful lady?"
He sighed. "I didn't think anyone would trip over them."
"That's the problem!" she snapped. "You didn't think."
He looked away slightly. "I was just setting them up properly. I didn't expect you to run there."
Zoey narrowed her eyes. "So now it's my fault?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
Gauri stepped between them before it escalated further.
"Enough. Amitesh, remove those wires immediately."
He hesitated for a second… then nodded.
"Fine."
The System spoke calmly.
System: Congratulations. Your defensive genius has injured an ally.
"…Shut up."
"What?" Zoey asked.
"Nothing."
The room fell into an annoyed silence.
"So let me get this straight," Amitesh said, raising a finger.
"Gauri, you're angry at me because I did something that made the System wake you up from your sleep."
"Exactly," Gauri replied flatly.
He turned to Zoey.
"And you're angry at me because your nose broke on my traps."
"Yes," Zoey said coldly. "And I still feel like punching you and breaking yours too."
He nodded slowly.
"And you," he muttered internally, "are angry because I told Astraea I don't want to see her in my dreams."
System: Yes.
Zoey crossed her arms.
"You are nothing but a walking disaster machine. Wherever you sit quietly, chaos upgrades itself."
"I didn't do anything," Amitesh defended. "I was literally sleeping. Everything just happens on its own."
"Oh really?" Zoey tilted her head.
"Things just happen around you?"
She stepped closer.
"Let me summarize your talent."
She raised one finger.
"You talk to invisible voices."
Second finger.
"You set up traps without telling anyone."
Third finger.
"You insult goddesses before going to bed."
Fourth finger.
"And then in the morning you stand there like a confused potato asking, 'What happened?'"
Gauri snorted, trying not to laugh.
Amitesh frowned. "I am not a potato."
"You're worse," Zoey continued mercilessly. "At least potatoes are useful. You? You create problems in three different dimensions before breakfast."
He opened his mouth to argue.
She didn't let him.
"And don't even start with that calm face. Every time you look serious, someone ends up injured, offended, or spiritually unstable."
The System hummed.
System: Her observational accuracy is concerning.
"See? Even your imaginary roommate agrees," Zoey said.
"I'm not a disaster," Amitesh muttered.
Zoey leaned in slightly.
"You're not a disaster. You're a limited edition collector's box of bad decisions."
Gauri finally laughed openly.
Amitesh looked between them, offended.
"I was just trying to—"
"To what?" Zoey cut in. "Speedrun social destruction?"
Silence.
He crossed his arms now.
"At least I don't trip over wires."
Zoey's eyes widened slowly.
"Oh. You want to fight with a broken-nose victim?"
Gauri immediately stepped back.
"I'm not involved in this."
Zoey pointed at him dramatically.
"If my nose becomes crooked, I'm blaming you for ruining my future wedding photos."
"You're overreacting."
"I'm underreacting. I should be charging you emotional damage fees."
The room fell into chaotic silence.
Amitesh sighed.
"…Fine. I admit maybe I caused… minor inconvenience."
Zoey stared.
"Minor?"
He hesitated.
"…Medium inconvenience."
She glared harder.
"…Large inconvenience."
"Better."
He exhaled loudly, dragging a dramatic—
"Aaaahhhh…"
Then he looked upward slightly.
"Hey, System. Tell me what I should do to wrap up all this mess."
System: Thank God—
… I mean, thank me. You finally made a good decision.
'Thank me, stupid god.'
System: I can hear your thoughts.
"Who cares? Just tell me."
The System cleared its nonexistent throat.
System: Step one: make Gauri go back to sleep.
Gauri narrowed her eyes. "I can still hear you talking to air."
System: Step two: take Zoey to a proper doctor. Remove the traps immediately.
Zoey nodded aggressively. "Yes. That. Start with that."
System: Step three: apologize to Astraea.
Amitesh froze.
"The first two are fine," he said cautiously. "But the third one is… slightly difficult."
System: Slightly? You triggered divine emotional turbulence.
He crossed his arms. "She overreacted."
System: You rejected a goddess with zero cushioning. What did you expect? A thank-you letter?
Zoey blinked. "What are you even arguing about now?"
"Nothing," he muttered.
System: Just do it, okay? Stubborn mouth man. Let the gods and the cosmic ocean live in peace.
"Cosmic ocean?"
System: Metaphor. Don't overthink it. You've already done enough thinking damage.
Gauri sighed.
"So what's the plan, genius?"
Amitesh looked at all three of them.
"…Fine."
He pointed toward the door.
"Gauri, go back home and sleep. I'll deal with whatever voice bullied you."
Gauri scoffed. "You better."
He turned to Zoey.
"I'll take you to the doctor."
She crossed her arms but nodded.
"And then," the System prompted sweetly.
He grimaced.
"And then… I'll apologize."
System: Say it properly.
He clenched his jaw.
"I will apologize to Astraea."
A faint satisfied silence filled his head.
System: Good. Character development detected.
"Shut up."
Zoey squinted. "You really need therapy."
He sighed again.
"…One problem at a time."
---
In a quiet room, Priyanka was taking a slow sip of her tea, humming softly to herself.
"Hmmm… what a nice day. I hope it stays like this."
The door suddenly slammed open.
She jerked in shock and choked on her tea.
"Doc! I have a special emergency and emotional-help case for you!"
Priyanka coughed violently.
"Cough—cough—! Just say the name and the devil appears… cough… I was just starting to miss the old Amitesh from this building… cough…"
Amitesh stood at the doorway, slightly out of breath.
"I'm not a devil."
Priyanka wiped her mouth and glared at him.
"The door disagrees."
Behind him, Zoey walked in carefully, holding her nose.
Priyanka's expression shifted instantly.
"Oh. Oh no."
She put her cup down slowly.
"What did you do this time?"
Amitesh raised both hands defensively.
"It's not as bad as it looks."
Zoey deadpanned, "My nose would like to disagree."
Priyanka looked at the bandage.
Then at Amitesh.
Then back at the bandage.
"…You injured her?"
"It was accidental."
"That's what you say every time."
He hesitated. "…Technically true."
Priyanka sighed deeply and stood up.
"Alright. Sit down. Both of you. And Amitesh—"
She pointed at him firmly.
"Start explaining. Slowly. Without breaking anything else."
Amitesh sat stiffly on the chair.
Zoey sat beside him, arms crossed, nose bandaged like a silent accusation.
Priyanka stood in front of them.
"Explain."
Amitesh cleared his throat.
"I placed some metal wires near the corridor."
Priyanka didn't react.
"For… safety."
Still no reaction.
"And Zoey accidentally tripped over them and fell."
Silence.
"…And her nose broke."
The room became very quiet.
Priyanka walked to the table slowly, adjusted her cup, then turned back.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Did you inform anyone before placing these wires?"
"…No."
"Did you think someone might get hurt?"
"I thought I placed them carefully."
"That was not my question."
He swallowed.
"…No. I didn't think properly."
Zoey watched silently now.
Priyanka stepped closer.
"Amitesh, responsibility is not about intention. It is about consequence."
He looked down.
"If you want to protect something, you must first make sure you don't harm the people standing beside you."
Her tone didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"You cannot create danger and call it safety."
He clenched his hands slightly.
"I was just trying to—"
"To what?" she asked gently.
"To feel in control?"
That hit harder than shouting.
He didn't answer.
Priyanka's expression softened slightly — but only slightly.
"You are smart. That is not the issue."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"But intelligence without
communication becomes arrogance."
Zoey blinked.
Even the System went quiet.
Priyanka continued,
"If you make decisions alone, you carry the consequences alone. But when others suffer because of your silence… that is not maturity."
Amitesh's jaw tightened.
He wanted to argue.
But there was nothing to argue.
She sighed.
"Look at her."
He glanced at Zoey's bandaged nose.
"She trusted that walking near you was safe."
Silence pressed down on him.
"You don't get to say 'sorry' like it's a small inconvenience."
Her voice lowered.
"You apologize properly. And you change the behavior."
The room felt heavier.
Amitesh stood up slowly.
He turned to Zoey.
"…I'm sorry."
Priyanka cleared her throat softly.
He corrected himself.
"I am genuinely sorry. I didn't think about how it could affect you. I should have told everyone. I won't repeat that mistake."
Zoey stared at him for a few seconds.
Then looked at Priyanka.
"Can I keep him on probation?"
Priyanka folded her arms.
"He is already on probation."
Amitesh sighed quietly.
Inside his head, the System whispered:
System: Emotional damage level… critical.
He didn't respond.
For once.
'My God… I'm getting scolded by the Star of the Day.'
Amitesh stared at the floor dramatically.
Inside his head, the System replied dryly:
System: Correction. You are being corrected by someone competent.
He ignored it.
Priyanka had already shifted modes.
The strict-mother aura faded, replaced by calm professional focus.
"Zoey, tilt your head slightly," she said gently.
Zoey obeyed.
Priyanka examined the bandage carefully, her fingers steady and precise.
"You're lucky," she murmured. "It's not a severe fracture. Swelling and impact damage. Painful, but manageable."
Zoey winced. "It didn't feel manageable."
"Pain always feels dramatic in the moment," Priyanka replied softly. "But you'll be fine."
She cleaned the area carefully and adjusted the cotton.
Amitesh sat in the corner chair, unusually quiet.
No arguing.
No defensive comments.
Just watching.
Priyanka noticed without looking at him.
"That silence is suspicious," she said calmly.
"I'm reflecting," he replied.
Zoey glanced sideways. "He's buffering."
The System hummed.
System: Processing guilt. Rare event detected.
Amitesh leaned back slightly.
'I really didn't think it through…'
Priyanka finished rebandaging and stepped back.
"Rest today. No sudden movements. And avoid dramatic expressions for at least forty-eight hours."
Zoey sighed. "So I can't even be shocked?"
"Minimal shock," Priyanka said.
Then she looked at Amitesh.
"And you."
He straightened immediately.
"You will remove those wires before someone else comes in bleeding."
"…Yes."
"And you will inform people next time before turning the building into a training camp."
"…Yes."
She nodded once.
"Good."
Zoey stood up carefully.
As they moved toward the door, Priyanka added calmly,
"Control is not built by tightening everything around you. It's built by trust."
Amitesh paused for half a second.
Then nodded silently.
The System whispered:
System: That line was effective.
"…Don't start rating her dialogue."
System: I am merely observing.
For once, he didn't argue back.
By the time Amitesh returned to his room, the morning had fully settled outside. The corridor was quiet again, as if the chaos from earlier had been erased from memory.
He closed the door gently this time, making sure it didn't slam the way he had done at Priyanka's place. The room felt familiar, but also strangely tense, like it was waiting for something.
He stood in the center for a moment, exhaled slowly, and spoke into the empty air.
"I know you're here."
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then the atmosphere shifted. A faint violet glow began to spread across the walls, subtle at first, like mist gathering in the corners. It thickened gradually until a translucent purple screen materialized in front of him, floating at eye level. Symbols he couldn't fully understand shimmered across it, rearranging themselves as if reacting to his presence.
Astraea's voice did not echo loudly this time. It emerged calmly, woven into the light itself.
"You returned."
"I said I would handle it," he replied, trying to keep his tone steady. "And I am handling it."
The purple light pulsed once, not aggressively, but not warmly either. It was controlled.
"You were honest last night," she said, and there was no accusation in her voice, only quiet observation.
He walked closer to the screen,
stopping just short of touching it. "Yes. I was honest. But honesty without explanation sounds harsher than it is meant to be."
The symbols on the screen slowed their movement.
"I did not mean it as rejection," he continued, choosing his words carefully this time. "I don't like the idea of someone entering my mind without warning. Even if that someone is a goddess. It's not about you specifically. It's about control. I'm not comfortable losing it."
The room felt still after he said that. The purple glow softened slightly around the edges.
"So it is not my presence that you resist," Astraea asked gently, "but the idea of intrusion."
"Yes," he admitted. "If I let someone into my thoughts, it has to be because I allow it. Not because they decide to appear."
The light dimmed and brightened again, as if processing.
"You could have said that," she replied.
"I'm not very good at saying things properly," he answered, a faint edge of self-awareness in his voice. "I say things directly. Sometimes too directly."
The symbols across the purple screen rearranged into calmer patterns.
"You caused considerable disturbance," Astraea said, though there was a subtle softness beneath it. "Threats were made in the realm of dreams. Pride was wounded."
"I heard," he said dryly. "Apparently I triggered divine-level drama before sunrise."
A faint flicker crossed the screen. It almost resembled restrained amusement.
"I did not intend to escalate matters so far," she admitted. "But being dismissed so firmly is… unfamiliar."
He nodded once. "I'm not used to letting people stay close. That doesn't mean I want them gone. It just means I don't know how to handle it properly."
Silence filled the room, but it was no longer sharp or defensive. It felt contemplative.
"I do not seek to control your dreams," Astraea said at last. "I only wished not to be pushed away without reason."
He looked directly at the purple glow.
"Then don't force your way in. And I won't push you away."
The screen pulsed once, brighter this time.
"That is acceptable."
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
"And… I'm sorry," he added, more steadily than before. "For the wording. Not for the boundary."
The purple light steadied completely now, no longer flickering.
"Your boundary is understood," Astraea replied. "Your delivery requires improvement."
"That's fair."
The glow began to recede slowly, the symbols dissolving into faint sparks before disappearing altogether. The room returned to its normal colors, leaving Amitesh standing alone again.
But this time, the silence did not feel hostile.
It felt negotiated.
The door slammed open again.
"Amitesh! I can't sleep. I want to meet Raktbeej. Now."
He stared at her.
"…What?"
Before he could react properly, Gauri grabbed his shoulder firmly.
The air around them distorted.
The room dissolved.
In the next second, both of them stood inside Raktbeej's domain.
It was vast and dim, with a dark crimson hue stretching endlessly in all directions. The atmosphere felt heavy, but strangely calm.
A slow clap echoed.
"Finally," Raktbeej's voice rang out dramatically, "someone returns who genuinely cares about my existence."
Gauri blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Raktbeej appeared in front of them, robes flowing slightly as if touched by an unseen wind. He pointed at Amitesh in exaggerated accusation.
"This idiot human boy," he declared loudly, "keeps ignoring me. No matter how sweetly I speak to him, he never replies. He ignores me as if I do not exist. Do you have any idea how insulting that feels?"
Gauri looked at Amitesh.
Raktbeej continued, even more dramatic now.
"And when I finally offered him my cultivation knowledge, rare wisdom refined over ages, he simply nodded. Nodded! Not even a single attempt to practice it. Not even curiosity."
Amitesh let out a long, tired sigh.
He stepped forward slowly.
"What an uneasy sight," he said calmly, "a creature who lives inside me, always acting superior, now begging for attention."
Raktbeej narrowed his eyes.
"You're upset because I didn't use your method?" Amitesh continued. "I'm also angry at myself for not using knowledge properly. But I am not stupid enough to let something like you grow stronger without understanding the cost."
The domain went quiet.
Gauri looked between them, slightly confused but very awake now.
Raktbeej's expression shifted from dramatic to calm strategist within seconds.
"So you do not trust me," he said softly.
"I trust your intelligence," Amitesh replied. "Not your intentions."
A faint smile appeared on Raktbeej's face.
"Good," he said. "At least you are not completely foolish."
Gauri raised her hand slightly.
"Am I the only one who feels like I entered the middle of a long marriage argument?"
Both of them ignored her.
The crimson air pulsed faintly.
Amitesh's eyes hardened slightly.
"So you," he said coldly, "the so-called mushroom head, would you like to finally tell me what you are exactly? Because if you don't, your situation with me will become very unpleasant."
At those words, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Raktbeej leaned forward.
Not with interest.
With restrained fury.
His eyes darkened, something ancient and boiling beneath the surface.
In a single smooth motion, he grabbed Amitesh's shoulder. His grip wasn't crushing — but it was firm enough to make a point. He leaned closer until his mouth was just beside Amitesh's ear.
"First," he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous, "we are not mushroom heads. Stop insulting my species with those foolish names of yours."
The crimson air pulsed heavily.
"And second," he continued, his tone sharpening, "if you had not interrupted my growth back then, my roots would have reached your brain completely."
Gauri stiffened.
Amitesh did not step back.
"So it means," Amitesh replied calmly, "some of your roots already reached my brain."
Raktbeej's lips curved faintly.
"Only slightly touched your medulla oblongata."
The words were delivered casually.
"As I grow," he continued, "I remove what I consider unnecessary. First, I dull weakness. Hunger. Excess sensation. Then emotions. Attachment. Instinctive fear."
Gauri's expression darkened.
"I have already numbed your tongue," Raktbeej added softly.
Silence.
Amitesh's hands slowly clenched into fists.
His jaw tightened.
"So you are the reason," he said, voice low, "that I cannot enjoy food properly."
Raktbeej did not deny it.
"I began pruning inefficiencies."
A long pause followed.
Amitesh's breathing steadied, not panicked — controlled.
"You call my emotions useless," he said quietly. "You call hunger weakness. You call sensation inefficiency."
His eyes lifted.
"But those are human."
Raktbeej's grip tightened slightly.
"And you," Amitesh continued, "live inside a human."
The crimson domain vibrated faintly.
Gauri looked at both of them, sensing the shift from sarcasm to something far more dangerous.
Amitesh did not pull away.
But his voice dropped colder.
"You will not decide what parts of me are useless."
For the first time, Raktbeej's expression changed — not anger.
Interest.
Raktbeej's fingers loosened from Amitesh's shoulder, but he did not step back. His presence remained close, suffocating without touching.
"Oh?" Raktbeej said softly. "Do you think you can simply tell me to stop, and I will obey?"
His eyes glowed faintly in the crimson haze.
"Remember this, human male. I am living inside your body. I am not a natural organ that exists to help you survive."
The words echoed slightly in the domain.
Amitesh did not break eye contact.
"If I were merely part of you," Raktbeej continued, voice lowering, "I would obey your biology. But I am not your heart. Not your lungs. Not your brain."
A faint smile curved on his lips.
"I am a guest."
There was something wrong about the way he said that.
"But if you truly wish to survive," Raktbeej went on calmly, "then help me reach my ultimate state. When I achieve that… I may choose not to take over your body."
Gauri stiffened slightly at those words.
Amitesh's expression remained unreadable.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Raktbeej's smile widened just a fraction.
"You already know."
The crimson air pulsed once.
"Eat more. Grow stronger. Feed the vessel. Expand the capacity."
His gaze sharpened.
"Strength will benefit you in the future. And me."
"And if I refuse?" Amitesh asked quietly.
Raktbeej tilted his head.
"Then I continue growing slowly. Quietly. Removing what I consider unnecessary."
The implication lingered.
Gauri finally spoke.
"You're threatening him."
Raktbeej looked at her calmly.
"I am offering evolution."
Amitesh exhaled slowly through his nose.
"You talk about survival," he said evenly. "But you still depend on this body."
"Currently," Raktbeej corrected.
A faint silence followed.
Amitesh stepped closer instead of stepping back.
"If I die, you die."
Raktbeej did not immediately respond.
That was answer enough.
Amitesh's voice steadied further.
"So let's be clear. You don't control me. And I don't ignore you."
His eyes hardened.
"We cooperate. Or we destroy each other."
The crimson domain grew quiet.
For the first time, Raktbeej did not smile.
Instead, he looked… calculating.
"Very well," he said finally. "For now."
"Now get lost."
The words were not agreement.
They were postponement.
The crimson domain shattered like glass.
In the next second, both of them were thrown back into reality.
Amitesh staggered slightly as his vision adjusted to the normal room.
Gauri blinked, confused for half a second before realizing they were back.
"Hey, wait! I still wanted to talk to him," she protested.
She grabbed Amitesh's shoulder and started shaking him.
"Amitesh! Take me back. I wasn't done."
But he didn't respond.
His eyes were open, but distant.
He was still processing.
Gauri frowned and shook him again.
"Hello? Don't ignore me now."
Inside the fading echo of the domain, Raktbeej's voice murmured coldly:
"There is no use explaining anything to this girl. She still believes that place is his playground."
The whisper vanished completely.
Gauri finally stopped shaking him.
"Amitesh?"
He blinked once.
Then again.
"…We're back."
"Yes, obviously," she snapped. "And you left me mid-conversation."
He rubbed his forehead slowly.
"It wasn't your conversation."
She crossed her arms.
"Oh really? Because I was there too."
He didn't argue this time.
For a brief second, his hand moved toward his chest unconsciously.
As if checking something.
As if making sure something inside had not moved further.
"Gauri, it's no use. And it would be better if you stop trying to enter that world."
Her eyes widened. "I am really mad at you right now."
"I know. I'm sorry for that," Amitesh replied calmly, adjusting his sleeve. "But I have work to do. Let's get out."
He locked the door behind them.
The metallic click echoed down the corridor.
They walked in opposite directions without another word.
Amitesh entered the main building.
The fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead. Papers shuffled somewhere in the distance. The place smelled faintly of old files and dust.
Luck was on his side.
Both Mahaveer and Captain Singh were already inside the office, seated across the table, discussing something in low voices.
Amitesh pulled out a chair and sat in front of them without hesitation.
Captain Singh leaned back slightly. "So. Did you make any plans?"
"I made many," Amitesh replied evenly. "But they're still raw. They might not meet your standards."
Mahaveer folded his arms. "We'll decide that after listening to them."
Amitesh nodded once.
"I have three ideas. First — I send him a letter saying I'm his sister's boyfriend. If he's brave, he should come fight me. When he comes out looking for me… I'll already have sneaked into his room and done my work."
Silence.
The room temperature seemed to drop a degree.
Both men slowly narrowed their eyes.
Captain Singh leaned forward, fingers pressing against the table. "Repeat that."
"I provoke him. He comes out. I enter."
Mahaveer's jaw tightened. "You're suggesting we insult a dangerous criminal's family to lure him out?"
"It's efficient," Amitesh replied calmly.
Captain Singh slammed his palm on the table.
"Efficient? That's not efficient — that's childish!"
Mahaveer's voice came next, sharper and heavier. "This isn't a street fight outside a tea stall. You're dealing with an armed gang leader. You think he'll run alone because some random letter calls him out?"
Amitesh stayed silent.
Captain Singh stood up. "And what if he doesn't come alone? What if he brings ten men? Twenty? What if he sends someone else while you're 'sneaking' inside?"
Mahaveer leaned closer. "Or worse — what if he ignores you completely and tightens security instead? You would've warned him for free."
Amitesh's fingers tightened slightly on his knee.
"So what are the other two?" Mahaveer asked, tone still harsh.
"Second plan — throw a smoke bomb or something. Create chaos. Then sneak in."
Captain Singh let out a disbelieving laugh.
"Smoke bomb? 'Or something'?" he repeated. "Is this a movie to you?"
Mahaveer shook his head slowly. "You think trained criminals will panic because of smoke? They'll lock the place down. They'll shoot first and ask questions later."
Captain Singh's voice hardened further. "Do you even understand what crossfire means? You could get yourself killed. Or worse — get civilians hurt."
Amitesh looked down briefly.
"And the third?" Mahaveer demanded.
"Still in progress."
Captain Singh stared at him for a long moment.
Then he spoke in a low, controlled voice — the kind that was more dangerous than shouting.
"You are intelligent. That's obvious. But right now, you're thinking like a reckless boy trying to prove something."
Mahaveer added firmly, "Strategy isn't about bold moves. It's about minimizing risk. Your plans rely entirely on luck and ego."
Captain Singh pointed a finger at him. "You don't provoke. You don't announce. You don't create unnecessary chaos. You gather information. You control variables. You eliminate surprises."
Mahaveer leaned back again. "If you walk in with this mindset, you won't get a second chance."
The room went quiet.
Amitesh didn't argue this time.
For once, he listened.
And for the first time since entering the room, his confidence felt… slightly cracked.
Amitesh let out a loud, frustrated breath that almost turned into a bitter laugh.
"Okay, fine. I'm the most stupid, reckless, chaos-creator here. Happy? I'll think harder this time."
Neither Mahaveer nor Captain Singh stopped him as he stood up abruptly and walked out.
The door shut harder than necessary.
Inside the room, silence lingered for a few seconds.
Mahaveer glanced at Captain Singh. "Did we… scold him too much?"
Captain Singh exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "I don't know. He was already looking irritated before we started."
Mahaveer frowned. "He's young."
"And sharp," Captain Singh replied. "That's why it's dangerous."
Amitesh walked down the corridor with long strides, jaw clenched tight.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
Under his breath, he muttered,
"Every time I try to do something, it turns into chaos for some damn reason. First there's that goddess and her endless lectures. Then that useless system that knows nothing but how to yell. Then that gum lady who broke my nose. And these two men who claim they maintain everything — but somehow expect me, who came here just a month ago, to solve their problems."
His hand curled into a fist.
He kicked the wall beside him.
The impact stung his foot.
"Stupid… stupid… everyone is stupid."
A few passing staff members turned to look at him but quickly pretended they hadn't seen anything.
He didn't notice.
He kept walking.
And without realizing it, he stopped in front of Priyanka's clinic door.
Only when he reached for the handle did he register where he was.
He pushed it lightly.
Locked.
He blinked.
"Hm. That's strange. She never locks it from inside."
For a moment, an uneasy feeling brushed against his thoughts.
He knocked on the door.
Knock. Knock.
A few seconds passed.
Then a voice came from inside — calm, but slightly strained.
"Please wait for some time, if you can."
Amitesh straightened slightly.
Something about the tone didn't feel normal.
Not panicked.
But not casual either.
His irritation faded just a little.
"What's going on in there…" he muttered quietly, staring at the closed door.
clinic door and waited.
He didn't know why he was waiting.
He had no reason to be there.
Still, he stayed.
The corridor was quiet. A ceiling fan rotated lazily above, pushing warm air around.
After a few minutes, the lock clicked.
The door opened.
Priyanka stepped aside slightly.
"Don't worry. The baby is completely fine."
"Thank you, doctor," the husband replied immediately, relief flooding his voice.
A pregnant woman stepped out carefully, one hand resting over her stomach. Her face was glowing — not just from health, but from reassurance.
A wide smile refused to leave her lips. Her husband walked half a step behind her, eyes fixed on her as if she were something fragile and precious.
They moved down the corridor slowly.
Priyanka watched them leave, her expression soft for a moment.
Then she noticed him.
Amitesh.
Standing there quietly.
"Did you knock?" she asked.
He nodded once.
"What happened?"
"Nothing really. I was just walking and found myself passing from here."
She studied his face for a second.
He didn't look like someone who was "just passing."
He walked inside without waiting for permission.
Today, there was no usual restless energy. No teasing comment. No sarcastic smile.
He pulled a chair closer, sat down, crossed his arms on the desk, and rested his head over them.
Silent.
Priyanka moved to the sink and began washing her hands slowly, but her eyes kept drifting toward him.
The water ran longer than necessary.
He didn't speak.
Did something happen?
Is he down because I scolded him in the morning?
She dried her hands with a towel and turned to face him properly.
"Amitesh."
No response.
Only a slight shift of his shoulder to show he was listening.
"You're unusually quiet today."
A pause.
"…Just tired," he muttered.
But the tone wasn't exhaustion.
It was frustration.
Something heavier.
Priyanka walked closer to the desk and leaned lightly against it.
"You don't come here just because you're tired," she said calmly. "What happened?"
He didn't lift his head.
For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the wall clock.
Then he spoke, voice muffled against his arms.
"Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, it just makes things worse?"
Priyanka's expression changed subtly.
This wasn't about morning scolding.
Something else had piled up.
And now it was spilling quietly.
She pulled the chair in front of him and sat down.
"I think," she said gently, "that depends on what you're trying to carry alone."
"This is the worst day of my life," Amitesh groaned without lifting his head. "Or maybe it's officially 'Scolding Day.' Feels like everyone joined hands and decided to lecture me at the same time."
Priyanka's expression softened immediately.
She stood up, walked behind him, and gently placed her hand on his head, slowly rubbing his hair the way someone calms an overthinking child.
"Oh, poor boy," she said softly. "Long, terrible day, hm? Don't worry. It happens sometimes."
He didn't move away.
In fact, his shoulders relaxed slightly.
His eyes closed at her touch.
For a few seconds, the tension in his jaw loosened.
Then he muttered,
"Why do you sound like ASMR?"
She paused for half a second — then lightly flicked his head.
"Excuse me?"
"You're talking like one of those calming whisper videos."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Maybe because I used to record some," she said casually. "It was a hobby in the past."
He slowly lifted his head, one eyebrow raising.
"You? Recording whisper videos?"
"Yes," she replied calmly. "Soft speaking, reading stories, calming talks. It helped people sleep."
He stared at her for a moment.
"That explains a lot."
"Explains what?"
"Why my anger just dropped by ten percent."
She chuckled softly.
"That's called regulated breathing and a stable tone. You should try it instead of kicking walls."
He looked away slightly.
"…You saw that?"
"I didn't need to," she replied gently. "You came in looking like you fought the building and lost."
A small silence settled between them.
This one wasn't heavy.
It was warm.
Priyanka's hand was still resting lightly on his head.
"You know," she added in a softer tone, "being scolded doesn't mean you're useless. Sometimes it just means people expect more from you."
He didn't respond immediately.
But this time, he didn't argue either.
And for the first time that day, the chaos inside him felt… quieter.
"You recorded them to make people fall asleep?" Amitesh asked, lifting his head slightly but still looking drained.
Priyanka noticed he completely ignored the part about expectations and scolding.
She didn't push it.There was no need.
"Yeah," she replied lightly. "At first, I used to do it for Roha. He had trouble sleeping. So I'd talk softly, tell him random calm stories. Then someone suggested I record it. Slowly… it became a hobby."
She adjusted a file on the table casually.
"It's strange, though. Something so simple helps people so much."
Amitesh rested his cheek back on his folded arms.
"I'm feeling sleepy now," he muttered.
Priyanka looked at him carefully.
Dark circles slightly visible. Shoulders still tense even in rest.
"You didn't sleep properly last night, did you?"
No answer.
That was answer enough.
"Well," she said in the same soft tone, "you can sleep here."
He shifted slightly.
"But only for today," she added firmly.
A faint, tired smile appeared on his face.
"Special permission?"
"Yes. Clinic privilege."
He adjusted the chair slightly, making himself more comfortable.
Priyanka pulled a thin folded sheet from a cabinet and placed it gently over his shoulders.
"Just for thirty minutes," she said. "If any patient comes, I'll wake you."
He gave a small nod.
Within minutes, his breathing slowed.
The usual restlessness in his body wasn't there.
No sarcasm.
No defensive remarks.
Just quiet.
Priyanka sat back in her chair and watched him for a moment.
So much noise in this boy's head, she thought.
And yet, he acts like nothing touches him.
She lowered her voice instinctively, almost like she was recording again.
"Sleep," she murmured softly, more to herself than to him.
Outside, the corridor remained calm.
Inside the clinic, for the first time that day—
Amitesh wasn't fighting anything.