World of peace

CHAPTER - 1: WORLD OF PEACE

INDIA, DELHI

Darkness dominates the space.

So dense that it’s impossible to tell who stands where—or even who is speaking.

Faces don’t exist here. Shapes don’t either.

Only the feeling that the darkness itself has found a voice.

A pause.

Then, quietly—almost respectfully—

“They’re gone, sir.

All three of them.”

Sonora, Mexico

In the tourist bus, the guide was saying,

“Tomorrow morning we will reach the Gran Desierto of Mexico.”

A man sitting on the right side, third-to-last window seat listened quietly.

Name: Clive Grayson

Age: 27

From: America

Profession: Accountant

Tourist, for now.

Where does all that energy come from? he thought. She even said the full name. And we’re in Mexico, so the desert will be in Mexico, right? It’s not like it’ll be in Africa.

Space, Solar System

Earth is rotating peacefully.

 Sun is giving light.

 Moon is calm and watching the Earth.

Mars is silent and heat is wrapping Mars as always.

Bhuj, Kachchh, India

A muscular man walked down the road, carrying a bag on his back.

He moved with the energy of pure testosterone, each step confident, deliberate.

Chill. Calm. Nothing to worry about.

This was his belief—stay relaxed, stay energetic, let life flow.

Rann of Kachchh, Kachchh, India

The white desert of the Kachchh lay silent.

No one was here.

The desert was calm, taking in the heat, breathing the salt.

Silence stretched endlessly—not a single person in sight.

Meanwhile…

Alongside, in Meghalaya, India, in Shillong,

People were taking in the fresh air.

Tourists were admiring the beauty of Lailum.

Someone was boating in the cleanest river of Asia, Dawki.

Some people were even drinking the waters of Dawki.

And in China,

A group of tourists walked on the Great Wall.

They were enjoying the view, feeling the history beneath their feet.

Seoul, South Korea

As always, it was busy.

People moved in every direction.

The city never paused.

Not on Earth, but somewhere, someone was talking to someone.

“Hummm… uum… mm…”

“Mm… earrrr… weee… Leeen…”

Bhuj, Kachchh, India

Inside St. Zavier’s School, the day unfolded like any other.

In a ninth-grade classroom, students sat in neat rows, their notebooks open, pens moving steadily across the pages. The low hum of writing and quiet whispers filled the room. A ceiling fan rotated slowly overhead, stirring the warm air.

At the front, the teacher stood with a marker in hand.

Her voice was calm but clear as she explained the lesson, occasionally turning to write on the whiteboard. Each word and line was precise, her gestures measured yet natural, as if she had repeated this routine countless times before.

“Focus,” she said softly, glancing around the room.

A few students straightened immediately, while others scribbled down notes with quiet diligence.

Everything was orderly.

Everything was normal.

Down the corridor, in the principal’s office, the day was equally steady.

The principal sat behind his desk, immersed in paperwork. Files were neatly stacked, papers reviewed carefully. His pen moved methodically, signing forms, marking approvals. The faint rustle of paper was the only sound, accompanied by the distant laughter of children playing outside.

Through the window, the school grounds stretched under the morning sun. Students walked to and from classrooms, chatting quietly, carrying books and bags. Life within St. Zavier’s School flowed predictably, smoothly—just as it always had.

The teacher, the students, and the principal—

all went about their routines with calm precision.

No interruptions. No surprises.

Just an ordinary day in Bhuj.

Sonora, Mexico

The morning unfolded over the Gran Desierto of Sonora, its peaceful rays stretching across the desert.

The sunrise was happening, as it always did, slowly spilling light over the endless dunes, turning each grain of sand into molten gold. The desert remained vast and silent, the only movement the subtle ripple of wind shaping the sands.

Everything felt calm. Steady. Ordinary.

Yet in that stillness, the desert seemed alive, holding a quiet grandeur that made the morning stretch endlessly, timeless and serene.

The bus had stopped in the vast Sonoran desert, and all the tourists had stepped down, stretching their legs and taking in the morning air. The golden sunlight spilled over the dunes, painting the sands in soft, molten hues.

A young girl turned to the tour guide, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Wow, what a rise it is. Ma’am, does it happen daily here?”

The tour guide smiled, nodding.

“Yeah,” she said simply.

Clive, standing a few steps away, thought to himself, “So it happens every day… I’ve never seen a day when the sun didn’t rise.”

As he glanced around, something caught his eye. A calm girl stood a little to his left, her posture relaxed yet deliberate. There was something different about her. Something thoughtful, almost lost in her own world.

Curiosity nudged him forward. He approached her, offering a small smile.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” she replied softly.

“I’m Clive. And you are?”

“Eliza… Eliza is my name,” she answered.

Clive hesitated, then spoke, a bit unsure.

“Sorry to ask, but… you seem different. I mean… like you’re thinking about something.”

Eliza shook her head gently.

“No, I’m just… thinking about this place. How beautiful the sunrise is.”

Clive smiled, looking out at the horizon.

“Yeah… it really is.”

Amazon, Brazil

Above the dense Amazon rainforest, something moved through the air.

Flying high over the canopy, it observed the forest from above, tracing the winding rivers and shimmering lakes that dotted the landscape. The vast green expanse stretched endlessly in every direction, a living maze of trees and foliage.

It crossed from one cluster of trees to another, gliding silently, surveying every detail—the shape of the leaves, the gaps between the trunks, the subtle patterns of light and shadow.

It was searching, always searching, scanning the forest below with relentless focus.

The Amazon spread beneath like a vast, breathing organism, and whatever moved above it moved with purpose—observing, tracking, mapping every inch, never missing a single detail.

One of the flying objects shot away from the others, cutting through the Amazon with unbelievable speed. It raced outward, faster and faster, moving toward the distant sea, the horizon stretching endlessly before it.

It reached a small village below.

A man on the ground caught sight of it and screamed at the top of his lungs:

“UFOO!!!”

But before he could react further, the object swooped down, and in an instant, he was lifted off the ground, floating helplessly in the air.

“No… no… no!!! What is this?! Help me!!!” he cried.

And just like that, he disappeared inside the object.

The flying object scanned again. Another person, oblivious to the presence above, was detected. Within moments, the same fate befell them—swept up at lightning speed, vanishing into the craft.

In the streets below, three, four… seven people were now caught in its path.

The object moved faster and faster, precise and unstoppable. One by one, they were lifted, screaming, helpless, until all of them had vanished.

Still, it did not slow. Racing across the ocean coast, it captured the few who happened to be there. Then, without pause, it surged onward—north, faster and faster, disappearing into the distance with unimaginable velocity.

The air vibrated with its movement, leaving only silence in its wake, a trail of astonishment and fear that would be remembered by no one… yet witnessed by all who had glimpsed it.

Sonora, Mexico

Eliza glanced at Clive.

“You came here alone?”

“Yeah,” Clive replied.

“You like to travel alone?” she asked.

“No, not really. Actually, my wife was supposed to come, but she had work, so she didn’t,” he said.

“Your wife… you’re married?”

“Yeah,” Clive nodded.

“Oh… what does she do?”

“She works in the marketing department of the company I work at,” he explained.

“Ah… office romance marriage, huh?”

Clive chuckled softly. “You could say that.”

Suddenly, a scream echoed from afar.

“Help me!!!”

All the tourists turned toward the sound.

Eliza’s eyes widened.

“You heard that?”

Clive nodded, tense.

“Yes… I heard it too.”

Another scream pierced the air:

“Help me!!!”

“Leave me!!!”

Clive frowned.

“What is happening?”

The tour guide spoke cautiously,

“Something must have happened. We should check.”

Then, without warning, the same flying object streaked toward them, faster and faster.

Everyone froze, eyes wide.

“UFO… but here?” someone whispered.

The object swooped down, grabbing a man standing at the front.

“What!!” he shouted.

Clive immediately grabbed Eliza’s hand, pulling her left, away from the chaos.

Eliza stayed calm for a moment, then ran with him.

The tour guide sprinted left as well, dragging along an elderly man who had started to flee slowly.

The object hovered over the old man, watching him.

Eliza glanced back, worried, but Clive didn’t stop—he kept pulling her forward. Behind them, the tour guide ran to keep up.

A man on the right tried to escape in the opposite direction, but the object turned, following, observing.

The elderly man’s hand slipped from the tour guide’s grasp. He fell to the sand. She reached to grab him again—but before she could, the object lifted him into the air.

“Save me! Help me!” he screamed.

Tour guide hesitated, then tried to grab him—but Clive shouted:

“Run, as far as you can! Don’t stop!”

The tour guide ran past him, leaving the old man behind.

The object held him suspended in the air, then, seeing everyone else escape, lifted him away as well.

The group ran, hearts pounding. The object surged forward, faster and faster, disappearing over the horizon.

Clive glanced back.

“No… not in America!” he muttered.

Eliza followed silently, running without stopping.

Finally, they slowed to a halt, gasping for breath. The tour guide caught up, exhausted.

They all stood, trying to process what had just happened.

Eliza whispered,

“What… what was that?”

“I have no idea,” the tour guide admitted.

A man, who had been running from the right side, reached them. Clive steadied himself and said,

“The driver… he got taken.”

“No, he’s still on the bus,” the tour guide corrected.

Clive exhaled sharply.

“Alright… then it’s fine.”

Eliza suggested,

“Let’s go back.”

Clive shook his head.

“The UFO—or whatever it was—is gone. The bus is our safest option now. We take it and move somewhere else.”

“But… will that be safe?” the tour guide asked.

“There’s no other option. We can’t walk on foot here,” Clive replied firmly.

The tour guide nodded. “Alright, then.”

A while later, the survivors were seated inside the bus.

Some were still trembling with fear, others silent with grief, and a few lost in thought, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Eliza sat next to Clive. She pulled out her phone.

“Hey… there's a signal!” she said.

Clive leaned over quickly, peering at the screen.

“Open the news,” he urged.

Eliza tapped a few buttons, and the latest updates appeared—two videos on the screen.

She opened the first video.

The footage showed the UFO descending, lifting people into the air, and disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. Seeing it, the group tensed even more.

A young boy muttered nervously,

“How is the network even working?”

Clive smirked faintly, shaking his head.

“Who said a UFO would kill the network?”

The boy fell silent.

Then a news headline appeared:

"In Bhuj, the capital of Kachchh district in India, a UFO appeared from the Arabian Sea and returned to the sea shortly after."

Clive’s eyes widened.

“Wait… what?”

Eliza scrolled further. Another article loaded:

"The aliens, who call themselves 'beings,' had landed in Bhuj. Four beings emerged from the UFO. Reports confirm three have died, while one returned to the craft. Similar sightings were reported in Kashmir and Shillong, where UFOs entered from China and returned."

Eliza frowned, confused.

“They just… left?”

Clive leaned back, thoughtful.

“All three events happened within India. Maybe the government already knew and was prepared.”

Eliza shook her head slowly.

“If that were true, they would have evacuated their people first. Only a few places are mentioned… maybe even India didn’t know what was coming.”

Meanwhile… Bhuj, India

The streets were empty. Silent. Lifeless.

The world felt paused, as if everyone had vanished.

A muscular man sat atop the bodies of the fallen, the aftermath of chaos all around him. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

He placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it, smoke curling lazily into the air.

He leaned back slightly, calm, collected, almost unnervingly so.

“Damn… those poor guys weren’t even fighting,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and bitter.

“And yet… they died. Damn it, bastards.”

He exhaled, smoke drifting upward, eyes scanning the empty streets like he owned the place.

Some time later, the streets of Bhuj were still eerily empty.

The muscular man wandered into a small snack shop.

He picked up a few items, muttering to himself,

“Hmm… What's this? Oh, a new flavor from this soda brand. Might as well grab it.”

Stepping out of the shop, he sat down on a bench and sipped buttermilk from the packet through a straw.

A cat wandered nearby, curious but cautious.

“Hey, you’re alone. Don’t be afraid… I’m here with you. Ha ha,” he said, chuckling softly.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small milk packet, opening it with his teeth, and offered it to the cat.

The cat hopped into his lap and began drinking the milk, content and calm.

He smirked, looking down at his tiny companion.

“Well, I found someone to feed milk… wonder when someone will do the same for me?”

“Meow, meow,” the cat replied, as if mocking him.

“Hah… yeah, yeah, meow meow it is. Don’t try saying anything else,” he said.

“Meow meow,” the cat persisted, flicking its tail.

“Meow! Meow meow meow,” he replied theatrically, making the cat paw at the packet.

China.

The Great Wall loomed in the darkness, like a shadowed cover stretching across the hills.

A shield, maybe the only thing that could hide him from the aliens—the so-called “beings”—who had claimed so many lives.

Behind that cover, a man sat alone.

“They took everyone… my mother, my wife, my children… my entire family… those bastards,” he muttered, voice rough and broken, echoing softly in the empty night.

The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, as if the night itself had grown heavier.

It was a night unlike any he had ever seen—one that seemed born from shadows themselves.

What the darkness wanted, why it had come, he didn’t know. Perhaps he never would. But he could feel its weight, its cold presence, as if it had taken root inside this very night.

For the first time, he truly understood 

fear—not just of what lurked in the world, but of the shadows within it.

The night over Asia had grown impossibly dark.

Silent. Still.

Yes, it was night—but not a night like any I had ever seen before. Heavy. Ominous.

If I had to give it a name, I would call it “The Night of Silence.”

But maybe someone far away in Kashmir, India—a man over sixty, seasoned by life and experience—would give it another name.

Maybe he would call it “The Night of Rule.”

A night that held power, that commanded fear, that stretched across lands, unseen yet undeniable.

Bhuj,Kachchh,India

St. Zavier School sat quietly in the night, its classrooms empty, silent, swallowed by darkness.

But the darkness outside was relentless. It seeped into every corner of Asia, a blanket so thick that no place was left untouched.

Even here, in these silent halls, the shadows of the night seemed to linger, heavy and alive, as if waiting for something.

The stillness was absolute, yet the air carried a tension—a subtle, creeping reminder that the world was no longer as it had been.

Kashmir, India

In the pitch-black night of Kashmir, a being sat beside a man of over sixty, their figures barely visible in the shadows.

“Sir… we were thinking,” the being spoke, voice calm but deliberate, “we could control the minds of Earth’s prisoners… use them, and do it alongside the prisoners themselves. Is this possible?”

The elderly man’s eyes, cold and calculating, fixed on the being.

“Yes… you can do it,” he replied simply.

The night was silent around them, but the weight of their conversation pressed heavily—a conspiracy brewing, the future of countless lives hanging in balance.

Bhuj,kachchh,India

The muscular man casually walked into a house nearby.

The door was unlocked.

No one inside.

He stepped in without hesitation, looking around like he owned the place.

“Well… looks empty,” he muttered.

Inside, the house felt untouched—quiet, abandoned, frozen in time.

He noticed a gaming setup in one of the rooms.

A PC.

A chair.

A controller lying there, waiting.

His eyes lit up.

“Ohhh… jackpot.”

He dropped into the chair, switched the system on, and started playing like nothing in the world had happened.

Moments later, loud sounds echoed from the room—

“Ah ha! Ah ha! No, not there—no, not there!”

Gunfire.

Explosions.

Game dialogue.

Pure chaos—digital chaos, not real.

He laughed, fully relaxed, completely immersed.

Outside, Bhuj was silent.

The world was falling apart.

Inside this empty house, one man was just enjoying a game, as if the apocalypse had taken a short break.

Inside the bus, everyone sat in silence.

No voices.

No movement.

Just the feeling that no one was left out there.

They didn’t care about sightseeing anymore.

They didn’t care about plans.

All they wanted now was one thing—

to leave this desert… to get out of here.

The bus felt heavy, crowded with fear rather than people.

Eliza suddenly turned toward Clive.

“Clive…”

He looked at her.

“What is it?”

Her face had gone pale.

“…The seven billion population,” she said slowly, almost afraid to finish the sentence,

“They've taken them.”

“What?!” Clive reacted instantly.

The word echoed inside the bus.

People around them noticed the panic in his voice. One by one, they gathered closer.

Eliza held up her phone, her hands slightly trembling.

“Seven billion people,” she repeated,

“abducted.”

The screen told a story no one wanted to believe.

Silence swallowed the bus.

This wasn’t a local incident.

This wasn’t a country-wide disaster.

It was global.

And for the first time, they all understood—

They weren’t just survivors of an attack.

They were left behind.

12:00 A.M. – Shillong, India | Near the Dawki River

Midnight.

Near the Dawki River, a young woman stood alone, frozen in fear.

No… I don’t want them to take me, she thought.

They already took my family. They’re demons.

The river flowed quietly beside her, crystal clear even under the faint moonlight.

Fish moved beneath the surface, calm and unaware.

Then—

A sharp crack echoed through the night.

Something struck a rock near the riverbank.

The sound alone was enough to shatter the silence.

She flinched and turned around.

The fish scattered instantly, disappearing into the depths.

Behind her, figures emerged from the darkness.

Not one.

Not two.

Many.

Their faces were half-hidden by shadow.

Metal glinted faintly in their hands.

One of them laughed—high, unstable, echoing across the river.

“Hahaha… you shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice unsteady.

She took a step back, her breath shaking.

The darkness had completely settled in.

Across the river, Bangladesh looked calm, distant, untouched.

On this side—India felt swallowed by shadow.

The Dawki River continued flowing down from the mountains, as if even the hills had fallen silent, watching.

No wind.

No voices.

Just fear.

And one unanswered question hanging in the air—

In this new world… Who is more dangerous now?

— — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — —

NOW, THE KILLS WILL BE DONE

   IN THE SILENCE OF THE EMPTY 

                      WORLD

CHAPTER - 2: THE EMPTY WORLD

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