The city of Lystara, the jewel of the Republic of Velmora, sparkled like a digital constellation. It was a city that never truly slept—alive with buzzing airways, glowing high-rises, and holographic banners fluttering in the windless skies. Here, machines coexisted with man, and innovation surged through every vein of society. Yet, hidden within this metropolis of ambition and motion was a sanctuary—a place for dreamers, builders, and seekers.
Velmora National University.
It wasn't just a university. It was a world of its own, where thoughts ran wilder than money, and purpose was the unspoken currency.
In the cool dusk air, Aarav leaned over the balcony railing of Room 207 in the North Star Hostel—a two-seater room in the most premium block of the campus. His fingers wrapped around a metal cup of ginger tea, steam curling like breath from a dragon's nostril. Below, the campus sparkled with New Year's lanterns and laughter. Above, the sky blushed orange and lavender, gently letting go of the sun.
He wasn't smiling. He wasn't frowning either. Aarav simply stared—quiet, composed, but distant.
His obsidian-black hair was parted neatly, falling just above his brows. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, but tired in a way few noticed. His build was lean, more from neglecting gym days than natural grace. His clothes were always fresh, neatly ironed, his space spotless—a rarity among hostel students. Everything about him screamed control… except the heaviness in his silence.
Inside the room, a contrast bloomed. Clothes half-hanging from almirah handles, textbooks buried under snacks, and a gaming console blinking with a paused match. Rahul, his roommate and childhood friend, had just emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel, singing terribly off-key.
"Aarav, you're gonna fall in love with the sunset and marry it one day," Rahul chuckled. "Seriously, man. It's New Year's Eve. You can stare later. Right now, we party."
Aarav gave a small smirk, then turned away. "Wasn't planning on celebrating."
"You say that every damn year," Rahul said, throwing on a hoodie. "And every year, you show up late and act like you were kidnapped into having fun."
Rahul was messy, loud, and completely unfiltered—but he was Aarav's anchor. The kind of friend who stuck through awkward teenage phases, heartbreaks, even breakdowns. He never tried to fix Aarav. He just… stayed.
Aarav's gaze drifted to the photo frame on his desk. It was partially buried under old notebooks and printouts. He didn't need to uncover it. He knew what it showed.
Alina.
Her smile was the kind that didn't just light up a room—it warmed it. Her eyes, brown and thoughtful, carried an unshakable calm. Her nose crinkled slightly when she laughed, and her voice had this way of softening even the harshest truths.
They had met on accident. Literally. Second-year freshmen bumping into each other outside the library, her coffee spilling all over his assignment. She'd looked horrified, then burst into laughter before even apologizing. That was Alina—chaotic grace. Where Aarav was equations and order, she was poetry and flow.
They fell in love slowly. In libraries. On benches. Over half-shared plates of fries. On long walks across the eastern hill during twilight. She studied Environmental Biotechnology. Wanted to heal the earth. Aarav, obsessed with frequencies and ancient scripts, always joked that he wanted to heal time.
They broke up because life demanded it.
Her internship abroad. His sleepless pursuit of theoretical research. Their worlds, once orbiting each other, spun too fast and too far.
But he never moved on. Not really.
---
A loud knock broke his thoughts.
Kritika, wearing an oversized maroon hoodie and holding two plastic wine cups, stood in the doorway. "Please don't tell me you're sulking. Rahul, shirt. Aarav, smile."
She barged in without waiting. Kritika was sharp-tongued, smart, and probably the only person who could scare both Aarav and Rahul into drinking tea instead of coffee during exam week. She was their healer—figuratively and literally. A biomedical student with a knack for mixing old-school ayurveda with modern science.
"You better not ghost us tonight," she said. "I brought your favorite wine. That berry one. Don't ask how I got it. And yes, we're drinking it in disposable glasses like degenerates."
"I was planning to work," Aarav mumbled, but the protest was weak. His voice cracked halfway through, betraying the weight he thought he'd hidden.
"You've been working all year, Aarav," Kritika said gently. "Come. Be human tonight."
Aarav nodded.
---
They walked toward the central quad, where lights hung like constellations between trees and music danced in the air. Fireworks sparked in the distance. Students were scattered in groups—dancing, laughing, singing karaoke.
Under the old silverleaf tree, a sacred spot on campus, their little group gathered—just the three of them for now.
Rahul danced badly, arms flailing like a puppet. Kritika laughed, recording him on her phone. Aarav sat back on the stone bench, the fruit wine gently fizzing in his cup.
As the night deepened, stories were shared. Secrets whispered. A dare went too far. Someone confessed their crush in front of the wrong person. Laughter roared louder than the music.
At one point, Kritika leaned toward Aarav. "She'd be proud of you, you know."
He didn't answer, but his eyes watered slightly. No one mentioned Alina—not directly—but her presence lingered in all three of them.
Then, just before midnight, they held hands under the silverleaf tree.
Kritika pulled out her phone and opened the countdown timer. "Alright! Thirty seconds!"
They stood in a circle, their cups raised, their laughter dimming to anticipation. Around them, the campus echoed with chants from different groups.
"TWENTY-FIVE!" Rahul shouted, grinning like a kid.
"TWENTY-FOUR! TWENTY-THREE!"
Even Aarav found himself smiling, his voice joining theirs.
"FIFTEEN! FOURTEEN!"
Kritika nudged him. "Make a wish. And don't say you wish to finish your thesis."
"I wasn't going to," he said.
"SEVEN! SIX!"
Rahul jumped up and down. "Let's goooo!"
"THREE! TWO! ONE!"
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
The clock ticked.
11:59.
And then—12:00.
The sky didn't explode with fireworks.
It shattered.
A low, inhuman hum rippled through the air like a bassline of the universe itself going out of tune. The stars—each one—winked out, not fading, but being erased as if painted on a canvas suddenly torn apart. The moon fractured into shards of blinding light and melted into darkness.
Above them, a web of obsidian cracks rippled across the heavens like ink bleeding through glass. From these ruptures, massive black structures began to emerge—Gates. They floated like broken monoliths suspended in space, turning slowly, humming with ancient energy.
The first to emerge was shaped like a jagged crown—its center glowing blood-red, pulsing like a heartbeat. Then came the others. Dozens. Hundreds. Gates of different sizes and shapes scattered across the skies.
From within the nearest gate, a beast dropped.
It had four legs, each like pillars of obsidian, and a skull for a head, hollow sockets burning blue. Another creature slithered behind it, like a serpent with the wings of a vulture. They shrieked—not with vocal cords, but with minds—screaming into the heads of every human nearby.
People covered their ears and collapsed. Some screamed. Some simply froze.
In the distance, fire bloomed. Cars exploded. Towers blacked out. Drones dropped like flies. The entire city was blinking out.
From every gate, they poured—monsters with twisted forms, some small and shrieking, others massive like buildings. The sky became a canvas of chaos—of fire, blood, and shadows.
And in the center of it all… Aarav stood frozen, a cup of wine still in his hand, watching the world he once knew disintegrate in front of his eyes.
The Gates had opened.