Mansh sat on the edge of his bed, his legs hanging loosely over the side as he stared at the floor, lost in thought. His mind was a tangled mess of fear, uncertainty, and a growing sense of urgency. The room around him felt strangely empty, like the walls were closing in on him with every passing second. The reality they had stumbled into was something far beyond their control, something that threatened to consume them both.
He ran a hand through his hair, fingers pulling at the strands in frustration. It was hard to think clearly, hard to grasp onto any sense of stability in the chaos that had been their lives. But there was one thing that was certain, one thing that Mansh had to hold onto, no matter how badly he wanted to retreat from it. They had to be careful.
"We have to be careful," Mansh muttered, his voice tight, every word feeling heavy as it left his mouth. "We can't change the story too much. If we alter it completely, we won't know the future anymore, and that could be even more dangerous."
He turned his gaze to Ankhush, watching the way his friend's shoulders slumped, the weariness etched into his face. There was a deep tension in the way Ankhush stood, as though the weight of this new reality was pushing him down, threatening to crush him beneath it. But there was also a flicker of determination in Ankhush's eyes, a fire that hadn't been extinguished yet. That was something. Mansh clung to it like a lifeline.
Ankhush nodded rapidly, his movements jerky, almost frantic, as if he was trying to grasp onto something solid in the storm of his thoughts. "Got it…" His voice was strained, the uncertainty seeping through the cracks. "So what's the plan?"
Mansh took a deep breath, his chest tightening as the full weight of their task settled on his shoulders. He couldn't afford to waver now, not when everything was on the line. He had to be the anchor for both of them.
"We replicate the last chapter of the novel," Mansh said, his voice firm but tinged with hesitation. The idea was so simple in theory, so clear in its intent. Yet, the gravity of it was overwhelming. "We have to recreate everything exactly as it happened in the book."
There was a slight quiver in his voice, but he didn't care. His words were out now, and there was no turning back. The plan was set, even if it was a plan built on uncertainty. Mansh could feel the fear bubbling just beneath the surface, but there was no time for that now. Not when they had a chance to make things right.
Ankhush stared at him for a moment, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to process what Mansh had just said. For a brief moment, it seemed like the weight of the decision was too much for him to bear, but then his shoulders squared. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched in determination. He nodded, a resolute spark in his eyes.
"Okay," Ankhush said, the single word laced with quiet resolve. "Let's do this."
Without another word, they stood up, the air between them crackling with a mix of fear and resolve. Mansh felt his heart pounding in his chest, each beat like a countdown to something inevitable. The room seemed to grow colder as they began moving, the walls pressing in, but neither of them hesitated.
They started with the smallest of actions--those tiny details that seemed insignificant but were critical to the plan. The things that had played out exactly in the novel, the things they needed to repeat in order for the story to unfold as it should.
Mansh walked to his desk, picking up a pen that had been left there, rolling it between his fingers as he thought. He placed it back carefully, just as it had been in the book. His hand shook slightly, but he forced himself to steady it. This was the first step. It had to be perfect.
Ankhush moved toward the window, gazing out into the night, his eyes distant, lost in thought. Mansh could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, but he didn't allow himself to break. He couldn't. Not when everything was teetering on the edge of this fragile plan.
They moved in silence, each of them lost in their own world, repeating the small actions that had been detailed in the novel. They mimicked every step, every word, as best as they could remember, trying to replicate the exact sequence of events that had been set in motion by the fictional characters.
Mansh closed his eyes for a moment, trying to picture the events in his mind. He could hear the words from the book echoing in his head, the descriptions of each moment, each pause, each interaction. It was strange--so surreal to think of these events as real. To think that they were the ones standing in the middle of this, trying to make sense of it all.
"Okay, we're ready," Mansh said, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that it was almost impossible to hear anything else. "Let's move to the replication part."
They walked across the room, the sound of their footsteps oddly muted in the otherwise silent space. Ankhush looked over at Mansh, his face tense, his brow furrowed in concentration. They had done everything just as it was written, but the weight of the next part was far greater. The next steps would determine everything--the direction their lives would take.
Mansh's gaze flicked to Ankhush's face, watching the subtle twitch of his lips, the way his hands clenched at his sides. There was a nervous energy in the room, and despite their best efforts to mask it, Mansh could feel it coursing between them both. They were afraid. They both knew the risk of what they were about to do. But they also knew that there was no turning back.
Ankhush's eyes met his, and in that moment, Mansh saw it--the same fear, the same uncertainty, but also the same fierce resolve. They were in this together, whether they liked it or not.
"Ready?" Mansh asked, though the question felt almost unnecessary. They had no choice but to go forward.
Ankhush gave a small, tense nod, and without another word, they both moved toward the door. The plan was in motion, and they had no idea how it would all unfold. But for now, all they could do was trust the path they had chosen.
They stepped into the hallway, the quiet stillness of the house pressing down on them, almost suffocating. The air was thick, heavy with the weight of what they were attempting. Mansh's heart pounded in his chest, each step feeling like it took them further into the unknown.
No turning back now.
***
A/N: how is ankhush going yo do that part from the novel.
Save this book.
vote this book.
Comment if you did not understand anything i will explain.