Chapter 2 : Shadows in the Glass

A loud, mechanical click echoed through the empty city.

The screen blinked twice.
And then, bright red numbers appeared:

71:59:52
Time Remaining

Almost three full days.

Rakshit took a slow step back, staring at the timer. “Seventy-two hours? For what?”

Sooryanvanshi scanned the dead streets, his jaw tight. “We’re not here by accident. This is planned.”

Vijaya looked around. The buildings were clean, too perfect. The air didn’t move. There were no birds, no wind—just a deep, uncomfortable silence.

“This place… it feels like a trap,” she whispered.

Ishar Singh’s eyes narrowed. “No trap is this quiet. It’s something else. A setup. Like we’re being watched.”

Vijay was the first to point it out—a building nearby, with open glass doors. A soft red glow blinked inside. Above the entrance, glowing letters read:

ZONE 1: RECOGNITION

“I think that’s our next step,” he said calmly.

Rakshit hesitated. “Or maybe it’s the last.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sooryanvanshi replied,“Whatever’s happening… it’s already started.”

They moved together, slowly. The city remained still.

The moment they entered the glowing doorway, the glass doors slid shut behind them with a sharp hiss. A screen lit up ahead:

Welcome to Zone 1.
Only the real you can survive here.
Begin.

The lights flickered.
The floor beneath them rumbled gently.

A cold voice echoed in the air:

“RECOGNITION INITIATED.
IDENTITY VERIFICATION UNDERWAY.”

The ground split into five separate circular platforms—each person on one. Thick walls rose around them, sealing them off. They were now alone.

Rakshit banged on the glass. “What’s going on?! Where is everyone?!”

The voice returned:

“You will face yourself.
Lies will break.
Truth will survive.”

The walls turned into mirrors—glowing, alive. But the reflections weren’t normal.

Each person saw something personal. Something buried.

Mirror: “What are you still afraid to face?”

In her mirror, she saw herself as a child. Small. Curled in a corner. Her father yelling. Her mother crying. She remembered this night.

The fear never left her.

She ran from home, from weakness, from pain. But it followed her—silent, invisible.

She touched the glass. Her voice trembled.
“I’m afraid… of becoming like them. Of hurting someone I care about. Of losing control.”

The child in the mirror stood up. Looked her in the eyes.

The red lights faded to blue.
Click.
Her door opened.

Mirror: “Whose orders did you regret following?”

His reflection wore a soldier’s uniform—his old one. The mirror flashed. A village. Smoke. Screaming.

He saw himself standing still, watching it burn.

He had followed the order. That was the rule.
But the guilt stayed.

He clenched his jaw. “Commander Virk. I should’ve said no. But I stayed silent. And people died.”

The flames in the mirror faded.
The red glow softened.
His door opened.

Mirror: “Who do you blame for your weakness?”

Chains wrapped around his reflection’s arms, dragging him down. A boy watched his younger brother suffer. Sick and Helpless.

He blamed the doctors. He blamed fate.

But deep down, he blamed himself.

“I couldn’t save him. I blamed the world, but I was the one who froze. I was weak.”

The chains shattered.
The mirror cleared.
His door opened.

Mirror: “What are you always running from?”

His reflection was always running. A blur. He chased success, approval, something... but he never stopped.

He had failed once. Someone he cared for got hurt. He never talked about it again. Just ran faster.

He breathed heavily. “I run from guilt. From failure. From the idea that I might ruin things again.”

The reflection stopped. Turned around. Faced him.

The red light faded.
And the door opened.

Mirror: “What makes you real?”

But there was no reflection.

Just darkness.

He waited. Reached out. Nothing.

Then a voice whispered:

“If you don’t know who you are…
You cannot survive here.”

Vijay’s heart raced.
His mind was blank—no memory, no past. Just fragments.

But something inside pushed through the fear.

“I don’t know who I was,” he said, “but I feel. I choose. I care. And that… makes me real.”

The darkness began to glow.

A reflection appeared—himself, standing firm.

The door opened.

One by one, they stepped out of their trial rooms.

They had survived Zone 1.

Above them, five green dots lit up on a new screen.
And a message appeared:

ZONE 1: COMPLETE.
NEXT: ZONE 2 – COORDINATION

TIME REMAINING: 68:22:17

The silence of the city returned.
But now, they knew—it was listening.

And this was only the beginning.