Ravi barely had time to react as the shadows surged toward them, twisting into grotesque versions of their younger selves. Their hollow eyes burned with an unnatural glow, their mouths moving soundlessly. The past was rejecting them, forcing them out. "We need to stabilize the memory!" Meera shouted, gripping the blank page. It trembled in her hands, flickering between solid and translucent. Rana stepped forward, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "This is my past. I have to fix it." But as he reached for his younger self, the shadow recoiled, its form distorting violently.
A deep, guttural voice rumbled through the hallway. "You do not belong." The walls cracked, the floor beneath them rippling like liquid. Aarav gritted his teeth. "This whole place is breaking apart!" Raj grabbed Ravi's arm. "We have to do something before we're erased too." Meera's fingers tightened around the page. "We need to remind the memory that Rana was always supposed to be here." She turned to Rana. "Think, what's the strongest memory you have from this place? Something unchangeable." Rana hesitated, then closed his eyes. "The day we promised to never leave each other."
The memory around them pulsed as if responding to his words. A faint warmth spread through the air, pushing against the encroaching darkness. The shadow versions of themselves wavered, flickering between solid and smoke. "It's working," Ravi said, hope rising in his chest. "Keep going." Rana took a shaky breath. "We stood right here, in this hallway. We made a promise. We laughed, we argued. But we never forgot each other." The moment he spoke, the blank page in Meera's hands glowed fiercely, its edges burning with golden light. The memory of their past selves trembled, their hollow eyes filling with recognition.
The young Ravi, Raj, and Meera turned to look at their past Rana, the eerie glow in their eyes dimming. "We… remember," they whispered. The dark force that had been holding the memory hostage let out a shriek, the walls trembling in protest. The air grew thick with static, and then—silence. The younger Rana looked up, his expression no longer empty. He was no longer just a memory—he was real. "Did we do it?" Aarav asked, his voice hushed. The Archivist's voice echoed faintly. "The past has accepted him. But the story is not yet complete."
The world around them began to shift, colors bleeding together like ink in water. The school hallway blurred, reshaping itself into something else. "Hold on!" Raj shouted as the floor dropped beneath them. They fell—plunging through layers of light and shadow—before landing hard on solid ground. Groaning, Ravi pushed himself up, his head spinning. They were no longer in the past. They were somewhere new. Or rather… somewhere rewritten. They stood in the present, but something was off. "Where are we now?" Meera asked, scanning the surroundings. It looked like their city, but quieter. Empty. Unfinished.
Rana touched his chest, his form no longer flickering. He was whole again. "It worked," he whispered. "I exist." But there was no relief in his voice. Because something was wrong. The world around them felt… incomplete. "This isn't how things should be," Ravi murmured. Aarav stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Look at the buildings. The streets. They're… unfinished." The edges of the world seemed blurred, as if still being written. Raj exhaled sharply. "We fixed the memory, but the world hasn't caught up yet." Meera's grip tightened on the blank page. "That means we're still not done."
A deep rumbling filled the air, a sound that came from nowhere and everywhere at once. A crack split through the sky, revealing swirling darkness beneath. The city shuddered, buildings twisting unnaturally. "What now?" Rana asked, his voice tense. The Archivist's voice echoed once more. "You have returned what was lost. But the story must now decide—will it accept the change, or reject it?" Shadows slithered from the cracks in the sky, coiling like living ink. Figures emerged—distorted, faceless versions of the people they once knew. The city itself was resisting them. "We have to make it accept us," Ravi said.
Meera held up the blank page, now half-filled with golden light. "This is the key," she said. "The world doesn't remember Rana because it was rewritten without him. We have to make everyone remember." Raj clenched his fists. "And how do we do that?" Meera hesitated before meeting his gaze. "We have to confront the one who erased him in the first place." The words sent a chill through them. Aarav swallowed. "You mean… the one who changed the story?" The ground beneath them trembled again. The figures in the distance turned toward them, their hollow faces twisting.
Ravi's heartbeat pounded in his ears. "Then we need to find them. Fast." But before they could move, the figures lunged, their forms shifting into something monstrous. The air filled with whispers, voices overlapping in eerie harmony. "You do not belong." The first attack came swiftly—clawed hands reaching for them. Meera barely dodged in time, gripping the glowing page like a shield. "It's trying to erase us!" Raj kicked one of the figures back, his breathing heavy. "Then we don't let it." Rana stepped forward, his eyes burning with determination. "I've been erased once before. Never again."