A gust of cold air rushed out as the door groaned open, carrying the scent of dust and time long forgotten. Satya, Saanvi, and Devraj hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The flickering light from their flashlights cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, revealing intricate carvings—scenes of a royal court, warriors, and a woman standing beside a chained figure.
Satya's chest tightened. That figure—it was unmistakable.
Veer.
Saanvi traced her fingers over the carving, her breath unsteady. "This… this was him," she whispered.
Professor Raghav remained at the entrance, his face grim. "This place is a hidden part of the Rathore history, erased from records."
Satya turned to him. "Tell us everything."
The professor exhaled. "Veer wasn't just a sketch artist. He was more."
Satya's heart pounded. He had always felt there was more to his past, something beyond just being an artist.
"He was accused of treason," Raghav continued. "For falling in love with someone he shouldn't have." His gaze flickered to Saanvi. "Meera."
Saanvi's hands trembled as she stepped back. The truth was slowly unraveling, piece by piece.
Devraj's voice was low. "So they punished him."
Professor Raghav nodded. "He was imprisoned… tortured. And then—" He hesitated.
Satya clenched his fists. "And then what?"
The professor looked at him, his eyes filled with an unspoken warning. "And then, he vanished."
Saanvi's eyes widened. "Vanished?"
"There are no records of his execution," Raghav explained. "No grave, no remains—nothing. It was as if Veer disappeared from history itself."
A heavy silence filled the chamber.
Satya's mind raced. If Veer had vanished, then what truly happened to him? Was it possible that—
His thoughts were interrupted when Devraj's flashlight flickered, then went out.
The room plunged into darkness.
And then—
A whisper.
Not from any of them.
A voice, ancient and distant.
"You have come too far."
A sudden gust of wind swirled around them, carrying a chilling presence.
Satya grabbed Saanvi's hand. "We're not alone."
The carvings on the walls seemed to glow faintly, as if awakened by their presence. Shadows moved where there was no light.
The past was not just history.
It was alive.