Restricted Section [BL]
They said the room on the 49th floor didn’t exist.
No nameplate. No ID access. No records in the company logs.
But every employee at RaiSinghaniPharma knew the rule:
Don’t speak of it. Don’t look at it. Don’t even think of trying the handle.
Meher stood in front of it now, silent, the polished steel door gleaming under the cold-white hallway lights.
His reflection blinked back at him—black eyes hardened by blood, a jagged scar slicing across the left side of his lips, another crossing the dead center of his left eye. Skin weathered and bronze from years of sunlight that no longer touched this skyscraper.
Behind him, the corridor stretched empty. But he knew—cameras were watching.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not after hours.
Not alone.
And definitely not thinking about the dream he had last night.
A dream of this door.
A dream of blood.
A dream where he died again.
He reached forward.
Before his fingers could graze the steel, a voice echoed behind him—low, dangerous, too calm.
“That room isn’t for you, Meher.”
He didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to.
He knew that voice better than his own heartbeat now.
Agrasen.
His boss. His director. His living nightmare.
And the man whose story, once upon a time, had ended in tragic flames on a page of fiction.
Only, this wasn’t fiction anymore.
This was the world Meher had been dragged into—the world of "The End of Eclipse."
Where Agrasen was destined to die.
And Meher? Meher was never meant to exist.
“I didn’t open it,” Meher replied.
“Yet.”
A pause. Then, footsteps—measured, like a hunter circling prey.
“Curiosity is a dangerous trait,” Agrasen murmured, voice just behind him now. “Especially in men like you, who carry too many excuses… and scars.”
Meher finally turned.
Their eyes locked.
Bronze and brown. Black and hollow.
And just like that, the air between them cracked—
With history that never happened,
Memories that didn’t belong,
And a hunger neither of them could explain.
Behind the door, something pulsed.
Alive.
Waiting.
Restricted Section.
The door never opened that night.
But it would.
And when it did,
Nothing would be the same.
