Ava stood in the hallway, her thoughts tangled in the last exchange with Alexander. His words, his touch—they lingered in her mind like an echo, a warning she couldn't quite decipher. She had hidden the journal under her dress for a reason, a deep instinct telling her not to read it yet.
She walked slowly back to her room, her footsteps light on the cold wooden floors. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress, feeling the leather of the journal hidden beneath it, its weight a reminder that something was waiting for her—waiting for the right time to reveal itself.
As she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, her breath shallow. The silence of the house enveloped her, the air thick with an uneasy stillness. She reached for the journal, but just as she was about to sit down, the faint sound of the television drifted from the hallway. The news.
Curiosity pulled her toward the door, her hand hesitating on the knob. She opened it just enough to hear the reporter's voice clearly.
"…breaking news tonight: A gruesome murder has occurred in the city. Authorities have found a body in an abandoned warehouse, with a strange clue left at the scene. A Sanskrit verse, a passage from an ancient text, was found next to the victim. The police are currently investigating possible connections…"
Ava's heart skipped a beat. The air seemed to grow thicker as her gaze shifted toward the journal in her hands. The verse… It was the same verse that had been in the journal.
She stepped back into her room, her pulse quickening. The coincidence was too much to ignore. The verse from the news report, the strange occurrences that had been happening—something was connecting all of it, and she was caught in the middle. The weight of the journal felt heavier now, its contents a mystery that needed to be unraveled.
Ava closed the door and placed the journal on the bed. She reached for it again, this time with trembling hands. She felt the weight of Alexander's absence, the uncertainty of what awaited her as she opened the pages.
Her fingers brushed over the first page. It began with a cryptic line she didn't understand, a line that felt foreign, yet strangely familiar. She flipped the page, and then the words appeared:
"The game ends not with a conclusion, but with a beginning. The end is but a veil for the truth that cannot be seen."
Ava swallowed hard. The words were haunting, filled with an ominous promise. She turned to the next page, feeling a chill run down her spine.
And then, her eyes locked onto the words that would change everything:
सर्वं कालाय तस्य च सर्वं विद्यया च यथा।
तेनैव च प्रियतमा
साध्यं सुखं च दर्शयेत्।