Aryan's POV
The forest was silent.
Dead silent.
Even the crickets didn't dare sing near the cathedral.
The building rose from the trees like the bones of a forgotten god—charred stone, shattered windows, ivy-covered walls and the broken cross hanging sideways at its peak.
It felt like the earth itself had tried to bury it. But it refused to go.
Just like him.
Ratan Malhotra stood beneath the archway.
Not leaning. Not waiting.
Just standing. Like a man who belonged there—among the ruin and ash.
His eyes landed on me the second I stepped past the rusted gate. I felt them before I even saw him.
"You came," he said, voice echoing in the hollow space.
"You said you'd talk," I replied, my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn't flinch. "I did. And I will."
I walked closer. "Then start."
Ratan's gaze didn't waver. "You're angry."
"You slapped her," I snapped. "You made her faint. What kind of father—"
"She's not just my daughter," he cut in, calmly.
That stopped me.
He took a slow breath. Then he looked up at the cracked ceiling, voice suddenly heavier.
"You think you're here to protect her. That you're her savior. But Aryan… you don't even know who you're protecting."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I growled.
He looked at me then. Really looked. "You asked me about Reyza."
My heart skipped.
He nodded. "You want the truth? Then you better hold onto something."
I didn't speak. I just waited.
He took a step closer, shadows pooling around him.
"There was a time when Aarohi was normal. A quiet child. Smart. Gentle. But when she was seven… something changed."
He paused. As if choosing the right word wasn't easy.
"She started talking to someone who wasn't there. Laughing at night. Drawing symbols I'd never seen. And then... blackouts."
I clenched my fists.
"She'd disappear for hours—inside the house—but we'd find her in places that were locked. When we'd ask what happened, she'd look at us like we were the strangers."
He stepped into the moonlight. And for the first time, I saw it—
The pain. The fear. The guilt.
"She called herself Reyza."
He looked at me.
"Not like an imaginary friend. Not a game. She became her. Voice, expression, everything. And Reyza was... not a child."
I swallowed. "What was she?"
He stared at me a long moment.
Then whispered, "A shadow born out of trauma. One that took root so deep… it never left."
My throat tightened.
"Why didn't you help her?"
His jaw flexed. "I tried. Therapy. Priests. Isolation. Nothing worked. The stronger Aarohi got… the stronger Reyza became."
He walked past me, eyes on the altar up front.
"She doesn't just exist in Aarohi's mind, Aryan. Reyza has her own will. Her own rage. Her own purpose. You've seen it."
I remembered that day.
The humiliation.
The slap.
The switch.
Ratan turned to me again. "You think I hurt her out of cruelty? No. I was trying to wake Aarohi up. Reyza… she feeds on anger. On power. And if you're not careful—"
He stepped close, voice low, hard—
"—she'll consume the girl you love completely."
The wind howled through the broken cathedral glass.
I didn't know what to say.
Not yet.
But somewhere inside me… I already knew:
This wasn't just about saving Aarohi.
It was about facing whatever Reyza truly was.
And whether or not Aarohi could survive her.