Chapter 2

When I finally drifted back into consciousness, my first thought was that I had made it. I was in heaven.

The bed beneath me was unlike anything I had ever felt. It wasn't the thin, lumpy mattress of the orphanage or the cold, damp sidewalk of the city. It was soft, almost impossibly so. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Then there was the smell. Instead of the usual scent of rot, exhaust, and unwashed bodies, the air was thick with a faint, cool lavender mist. It was soothing. It was the kind of smell that made you want to close your eyes and never wake up again.

I lay there for a while, simply breathing. I felt for the walls of the room with my mind. In my imagination, the walls were covered in massive, ornate paintings of animals, landscapes, or whatever it is that rich people put in their frames. How would I know? I was blind. To me, a masterpiece and a blank canvas were the exact same thing.

Within a few minutes, however, my cynicism returned. Reality started to seep back through the cracks of the lavender-scented dream.

I wasn't in heaven. Some stupid fool had admitted me to a posh hospital.

Panic started to set in. Not because I was injured, but because I knew what a place like this cost. I was a man who worked for a disability quota and lived on scraps. By now, the bill for this single room would probably be as tall as a giraffe.

Wait. How tall are giraffes? Ten meters? Five? It didn't matter. The point was that whoever thought I had the money to pay for this level of care was a terrible judge of character. They had saved my life just so the debt could kill me later.

Suddenly, something strange happened.

For twenty-five years, my world had been a solid, unchanging wall of black. But now, something was becoming visible. It wasn't the room. It wasn't the bed. It was a shape.

"Can an accident reset someone's blindness?" I whispered to myself.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I focused every ounce of my will on the shape. It began to stabilize. It looked like a window. It was perfectly rectangular and completely transparent. I stared at it, waiting for the world to appear behind it. I waited to see the colors of the lavender flowers or the faces of the doctors.

But there was nothing. Behind the transparent window, the world remained as pitch black as it had always been.

"Well," I muttered, the hope dying in my chest. "Looks like the accident cured jackshit."

Then, I heard a voice. It wasn't loud. It was a soft, melodic whisper that seemed to bypass my failing ears and speak directly to my brain.

"Mr. Dev, my name is..."

The name was lost in a blur of static. Everything around me became muffled, like I was underwater. But one sentence cut through the fog with terrifying clarity.

"Your life starts now, Dev. Use your life wisely."

The weight of those words pushed me back down into the dark. I slipped into unconsciousness again, the lavender scent fading into the smell of blood.

Slap.

The sound woke me up. Don't worry, nobody was beating me in my hospital bed. Not yet, anyway. The sound was coming from the other side of the room, or perhaps an adjoining suite.

Slap.

"During my election cycle! You had to go and cause me problems now?"

The voice was booming. It was a man's voice, deep and vibrating with a terrifying kind of authority. I could hear the "Prayer Balance" in his tone. This was a man who had cultivated a lot of power.

"Why did you have to hit someone with your car at the busiest intersection in the city? In front of everyone! Dozens of witnesses, Tina!"

"You are hell-bent on destroying my career," he roared.

I lay perfectly still. I had woken up during that first slap, but I had no intention of letting them know. It was a life lesson I had learned early: when powerful people are angry, you pretend to be furniture. Besides, it felt good to hear it. Hearing the man who nearly killed me getting scolded by his father was the best medicine I'd had all day.

"But, Dad," a girl's voice sobbed. This must be Tina. "Rohan was cheating on me. He said he would still marry me for the family alliance, but he said he couldn't leave his girlfriend. I loved him, Dad!"

Slap.

The sound of the strike was even louder this time. I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"Wait. So you caused all these massive problems for someone who doesn't even love you? You acted like a child because of a boy?"

The father's voice dropped to a low, trembling hiss. "Tell me you didn't break up with him. Tell me you didn't end the alliance."

"Do you want me to marry a cheat?" Tina's voice was broken, thick with tears. "I broke up with him then and there. I couldn't stand to look at him."

"Do you have any idea how much money and influence we just lost because of your stupid mistake?"

Slap.

I didn't even need to see them to know the father was pacing the room like a caged tiger. He wasn't worried about the man his daughter had sent to the hospital. He wasn't worried about my broken bones or my sightless eyes. He was worried about "influence." He was worried about his Prayer Balance.

In this world, people like them didn't see people like me. We were just obstacles on the road to their next promotion.

"I have to fix this as much as possible," the father said, his voice tightening. "I need to meet with the Kshetrapala Clan. If they get wind of this scandal before I can bury it, our family is finished."

I heard the heavy thud of his boots as he marched out of the room. A car door slammed somewhere in the distance.

Tina continued to sob. Her crying was so loud and jagged that it actually made my head ache. I decided I couldn't play dead anymore. The secretary must have seen me stir, because I heard the frantic rustle of silk and the clicking of heels approaching my bed.

"Mr. Dev? Are you awake?"

I opened my eyes. Not that it mattered.

"Mr. Dev, if you could quickly sign this document, we can ensure you receive the highest level of proper care. We are also prepared to offer you 500,000 Rupees for your troubles."

Troubles. That was a funny word for being launched ten feet into the air by a luxury sedan.

I couldn't see her, but my other senses were heightened. I could smell her expensive perfume, but underneath it, I smelled the sharp metallic scent of fresh blood. I focused on the sound of her breathing. It was shaky.

I realized then that the bastard hadn't just been hitting his daughter. Based on the way her voice muffled slightly, the secretary probably had a few handprints of her own on her left cheek. The father had been taking his rage out on everyone in the room.

"I can't sign anything," I said, my voice sounding like gravel. "I'm blind. Or did you forget that part when you ran me over?"

She was ready for that. I heard the snap of a plastic lid.

"That's alright, Mr. Dev. We have an ink pad here for your thumbprint. It's a standard settlement. It covers your medical bills and gives you a fresh start. Just give me your hand."

She reached out and grabbed my right hand. Her fingers were cold and trembling. She began to guide my thumb toward the ink pad, desperate to get the thumbprint before I realized what I was signing away.

But as her skin touched mine, the world tilted again.

The lavender scent vanished. The sound of Tina's sobbing moved a thousand miles away.

The voice returned. It was clearer now, ringing inside my skull like a bell.

"Tomorrow will be your twenty-fifth birthday, Dev."

I felt a surge of heat starting at the base of my spine and rushing upward.

"Tomorrow, you will finally be able to access your Prayer Status window. Use your remaining life wisely. The clock is ticking."

My hand went limp in the secretary's grip. The darkness didn't just feel like a lack of light anymore. It felt like a liquid, pouring into me, filling the empty spaces where my hope used to be.

I slipped back into the void, but for the first time in my life, I wasn't running away from the world. I was waiting for it to begin.