Fated: Web of Lies

The streets of Kathmandu carried an unusual silence the next morning, as though the city itself was holding its breath. The vibrant calls of vendors and the laughter of children playing in the narrow alleys felt muted, weighed down by an invisible tension. Sora trudged along the dirt path leading to the bustling marketplace, his thoughts stuck in a loop.

Johan's cold, piercing gaze haunted him, as did the cryptic warning of the hooded man. He wanted to forget, but the memories clung to him like shadows in the sunlight.

Sora's home, a modest patchwork of wood and metal, usually felt warm despite its fragility. Today, it seemed hollow and lifeless. The empty space where his mother should have been—a reminder of her long hours at work—amplified the unease gnawing at his chest.

Sitting on the rickety front steps, he absently traced patterns in the dust.

"Still thinking about yesterday?"

Sora glanced up to find Niko leaning casually against the wooden fence, though his crossed arms and furrowed brow betrayed his worry.

"I can't stop," Sora admitted. "It feels like I messed up somehow."

"You didn't," Niko replied firmly, but his voice lacked its usual confidence. "But Johan… he's not like us. There's something wrong with him. I'm serious, Sora—you should stay away."

Before Sora could answer, a faint rustling broke the stillness. Both boys turned toward the alley beside the house. For a fleeting second, Sora thought he saw the silhouette of the hooded man again, melting into the shadows.

"Who's there?" Niko called out, stepping closer.

The alley stood empty, its darkness swallowing their unease whole.

Despite Niko's warnings, Sora found himself back at the marketplace later that afternoon. The spot where Johan had fallen was clean, but in his mind, he could still see the dark stain spreading across the cobblestones.

"You returned," a voice said from behind.

Sora spun around, his heart racing. Johan stood there, his expression eerily calm. He looked different—not a scratch on him, his pale face devoid of emotion.

"I wanted to thank you," Johan said, though his words sounded hollow. His lips curved into a faint, unsettling smile. "You saved me. That was… kind."

"I just… couldn't leave you there," Sora replied awkwardly, taking a small step back.

Johan's dark eyes fixed on him, unblinking. "Not everyone would've helped. You're different."

The weight of Johan's gaze felt suffocating. "You should go home," Sora muttered.

Johan tilted his head, his tone sharp and bitter. "Home? I don't have one."

Before Sora could ask what he meant, Johan turned and melted into the crowd, his presence fading as swiftly as it had appeared.

When Sora returned home that evening, something new awaited him—a jagged symbol carved into the wooden doorframe. The design, a series of interlocking lines forming a crude circle, seemed to pulse faintly in the dim glow of the streetlamp.

"What the hell is that?" Niko asked, appearing at his side. His face had gone pale.

"I don't know," Sora whispered, reaching out to touch it. The etching was unnaturally cold, biting against his fingertips like ice.

"Did Johan do this?" Niko asked, his voice tight with fear.

Sora shook his head. "I don't think so."

A low, rumbling laugh echoed through the empty street. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, sending chills racing down their spines.

"Let's go inside," Niko urged, grabbing Sora's arm.

The two boys hurried into the house, shutting the door behind them. But even within the safety of its walls, Sora couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching, waiting.

From the shadows of a nearby alley, the hooded man watched the house in silence. The faint glow of the carved symbol reflected in his sharp, calculating eyes.

"It has begun," he murmured before fading into the night.