The grand corridor was empty, but to Aarav, it felt like the walls were closing in on him.
He slid down against the cold, polished stone of a massive pillar until he hit the floor, pulling his knees to his chest.
The silence of the palace was deafening, making the chaotic noise inside his head feel a hundred times louder.
Peace with monsters. How stupid can I be?
Zane's lazy, mocking laugh still echoed in his ears. A sheep trying to convince a wolf to eat grass.
The words stung because they were true. Aarav buried his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his hair.
He thought about the anime and web novels he used to read back on Earth. The main character always had a moment of clarity. They would get pushed to the edge, discover a hidden power, and suddenly become fearless. They would hold a sword and just know what to do.
But this wasn't a comic panel. This was reality.
His hands were shaking. His stomach felt sick. If a monster appeared in front of him right now, he wouldn't unlock some hidden power—he would freeze. He would die.
He missed the chaotic noise of the Delhi metro. He missed his father scolding him for waking up late, and his mother handing him a cup of hot tea. He also missed his books. He missed being normal.
If I can't kill... how am I supposed to survive in a world that only respects violence?
"Get up."
Aarav flinched, his head snapping up.
Standing a few feet away, blending perfectly with the shadows of the corridor, was Riven. The red-haired guard's face was an emotionless mask, arms crossed over their chest. Aarav hadn't even heard the guard approach.
"Lord Aris has summoned you," Riven said, the voice flat and devoid of any warmth. "Follow me."
Aarav swallowed the dry lump in his throat. He slowly got to his feet, his legs feeling like jelly, and began to follow the silent guard.
As they walked through the winding, sunlit hallways of the palace, Aarav's mind began to spiral again. Why is Aris calling me now? Did Zane tell him about my stupid idea? Am I going to be kicked out? If they throw me out, I'll be monster food by nightfall.
Suddenly, Riven stopped.
Aarav almost bumped into the guard's back. Riven didn't turn around completely, only glancing back over their shoulder. The cold eyes locked onto Aarav's terrified face.
"Your mind is too loud," Riven said quietly, the words cutting through the silence of the hall.
"You are losing a battle in your head that hasn't even started yet. Breathe."Aarav froze, his eyes widening in pure shock.
Wait… what? Aarav's brain short-circuited for a second.
Did he just… read my mind? Is that a thing here? Mind-reading magic? That is insanely overpowered!
Surprisingly, the shock of this discovery acted like a bucket of cold water. The heavy, spiraling despair in his chest eased just a fraction, temporarily replaced by a sudden burst of natural curiosity.
He hurried to catch up with Riven, his nervous energy shifting.
"So..." Aarav whispered, walking slightly faster to look at the side of Riven's face. "Mind reading? Is that a common magic here? Or is it just a 'you' thing?"
Riven didn't break stride. The guard didn't even blink.
"Can you hear what I'm thinking right now?" Aarav pressed, trying to test the waters. "Is it like a constant voice in your head, or do you have to focus? What about seeing the future? Can you do that too?"
Riven let out a very faint, almost imperceptible sigh. The guard finally shot Aarav a sideways glance. For a split second, the perfect, emotionless mask slipped, revealing a look of pure, unadulterated annoyance. It was the exact face of someone dealing with a very talkative, irritating toddler.
Aarav quickly shut his mouth. Okay, message received. No questions.
They finally stopped in front of a pair of towering, heavy oak doors carved with the kingdom's crest. Two heavily armored guards stood on either side.
Riven pushed one of the heavy doors open, motioning for Aarav to step inside. As soon as Aarav crossed the threshold, Riven pulled the door shut from the outside.
Clack.
The sound of the latch locking into place sounded like a prison door closing. Aarav was completely alone.
The office was massive, lined with towering bookshelves and illuminated by large windows that overlooked the capital city. Behind a wide, dark mahogany desk sat Aris Valen.
The silver-haired advisor didn't look up. He was gracefully signing a piece of parchment, the scratching of his quill the only sound in the room. The atmosphere was incredibly oppressive. The air felt heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
Aarav stood awkwardly near the door, too afraid to take a step forward. He waited. One minute. Two minutes. The silence was psychological torture.
Finally, Aris placed the quill down. He folded his hands on the desk, lifted his head, and locked his sharp, piercing silver eyes onto Aarav.
There was no polite greeting. No offer to sit.
Aris leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerously soft whisper.
"Who are you?"
The words hit Aarav like a physical punch to the chest.
What?! Aarav's internal monologue exploded into pure panic.
Where did this question come from?! Why is this happening now?
Aarav's heart began to hammer against his ribs. Did Aris know? Did he figure out that Aarav wasn't from this world?
Think, Aarav, think! His brain went into overdrive, desperately calculating the risks. If I stutter, he'll know I'm lying. I need to push back. I need to sound angry, not scared.
Aarav clenched his fists, forcing his trembling hands to stay still. He took a step forward, meeting Aris's intimidating gaze.
"Who am I?" Aarav said, his voice surprisingly steady, though his heart was screaming. "Your people dragged me out of a peaceful village. Your knights threw me into a carriage, brought me to this giant palace, and told everyone I am the Third Prince of this kingdom. You locked me in a room, gave me royal clothes... and now you are asking me who I am?"
Aarav took a breath, letting a bit of his genuine frustration leak into his voice. "What kind of game are you playing? You tell me who you think I am!"
For a long, agonizing moment, Aris didn't react. Not a single muscle in his face twitched. He simply absorbed Aarav's outburst with the cold, unbated calculation of a predator watching its prey struggle in a trap.
Aarav's fake courage began to evaporate under that stare.
Why isn't he reacting? Aarav's mind spun frantically. Oh god, I messed up. I shouldn't have yelled. What if he already knows everything?
The tension in the room was suffocating. Aarav felt like a single bead of sweat was about to roll down his temple.
Then, Aris slowly leaned back in his leather chair.
"Hmm."
The single syllable felt heavier than a boulder.
Aris tilted his head, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Why were you brought here, you ask? A fair question."
Aris stood up and slowly walked around the desk. His footsteps were completely silent on the thick carpet.
"Your face... your body... even the specific shade of your hair. They all perfectly match the Third Prince who disappeared," Aris said smoothly, his tone conversational but laced with venom.
"You even carry the Royal Crest on your body. Physically, you are him."
Aris stopped just two feet away from Aarav. Aarav had to force himself not to take a step back.
"But," Aris continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill straight down Aarav's spine. "Your personality... your soul. The Third Prince was a broken shell, yes. But he carried the pride of royalty. You? You carry the scent of a frightened civilian who has never seen blood."
Aris leaned in closer, the air around him growing cold.
"That is why I asked. You do not belong in this body. And you call yourself... Aarav, right?"
The name hung in the air. To Aris, it was an alien, strange-sounding name. To Aarav, it was the last piece of his original identity being ripped out and placed under a microscope.
Aarav stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat. His mind went completely blank. Every calculation, every fake excuse, every manga trope he had relied on completely vanished.
He was cornered.
What do I do now?
End of the chapter—