(Saturday, around 5:00 AM. Ayan's room.)

After the intense training session with Father, I'd collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind your body craves after pushing itself to the limit. I hadn't even stirred when the alarm clock went off. My enhanced hearing, a recent and somewhat unsettling development, was usually a curse, making it hard to block out the slightest noise. But this morning, it was like someone had flipped a switch. Everything was silent, peaceful.

Scritch… scratch… My eyes snapped open. Burglar! My heart leaped into my throat. I sat bolt upright – CRACK! – my bed gave way beneath me, sending me tumbling to the floor with a resounding BARAASSHHH! Huh, I thought, guess I’m stronger than I thought. With this kind of power, I can definitely handle a burglar. Ignoring the sudden destruction of my sleeping arrangements, I grabbed the thickest, sharpest piece of broken bed frame I could find – hey, it was the closest thing – and charged towards the door, ready to defend my home.

I reached the top of the stairs, peeking cautiously down. Scritch… scratch… Living room. I took a deep breath, trying to channel my inner ninja. I tiptoed down the stairs, each step carefully placed, like I was disarming a bomb. Scritch… scratch… Behind the sofa. I crouched low, broken bed frame raised high, ready to… smite the intruder.

I saw a shadowy figure hunched over behind the sofa. There! Without hesitation, I hit with all my might, the broken bed frame whistling through the air. CRACK! The sound was deafening.

And then I saw him.

Father. Standing amidst the… well, slightly rearranged furniture, looking utterly bewildered. Scritch… scratch… He was still holding the small, carved box.

I lowered the broken bed frame, a wave of pure terror washing over me. "Father?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "I… I thought you were a burglar."

He looked at me, then at the splintered remains of my bed frame in my hand. "You… you hit me with that?" he asked, a hint of amusement and disbelief in his voice.

I nodded mutely, unable to speak.

He chuckled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." He glanced at the box. "Getting ready for our trip."

"At five AM?" I asked, my voice still shaky.

"Important trip," he said, serious now. "Need to be prepared."

I stared at him, trying to process what had just happened. I had hit him with all my might, with a piece of my bed, and he was just… chuckling?

"What's in the box?" I asked, still slightly dazed.

He gave me the look. "We'll talk about it later."

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I sighed, still reeling. "Fine." I put the broken bed frame back (or rather, the pieces). "But if I hear any more scritch… scratching… I'm coming back down, armed and dangerous… with… something else."

He chuckled. "You and your… something else. Seriously, Ayan," he continued, a playful glint in his eye, "do you ever think we get burglars around here? It's like having Batman in the neighborhood and… well, let's just say I take security very seriously. Do you ever hear about burglars stealing, like, antique spoons anymore?"

I blinked, momentarily thrown. "Are you the real Batman?" I asked, completely missing the point.

He just shook his head and smiled. "Alright, Ayan," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. He picked up the broken piece of bed frame I'd been wielding, examining it. "So," he said, looking at the bed frame in his hand, then back at me, "you broke your bed."

I nodded sheepishly.

"That means you won't be sleeping anymore," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "If you don't need sleep… then let's train some more."

I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. "Please," I whined, "don't do it… I'm exhausted."

He looked at the broken bed frame in his hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. He ran a hand along the splintered wood, then looked back at me, a teasing glint in his eyes. "That was a… nice swing," he said, a hint of something unreadable in his voice. "Guess the training is going well."

He tossed the bed frame piece to me. "Now, go wash up and get dressed. We have a… binding… to prepare for."

.. . .. . ...

(Saturday, 5:10 AM. In Mohan's car, driving towards the mountains.)

The air was still dark, the only light coming from the car's headlights cutting through the pre-dawn gloom. Ayan sat beside Mohan, a sense of anticipation building in his chest. He glanced at the small, carved box on the seat between them.

"So," Ayan began, breaking the silence, "why are we doing this… binding… thing?"

Mohan nodded, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "This bracelet… it's special," he said, his voice low. "It belonged to your mother."

Ayan's heart skipped a beat. He reached out and touched the bracelet on his wrist, feeling a sudden surge of emotion. He already knew it was his mother's; Mohan had told him that much.

"And," Mohan continued, "it needs to be… re-bonded to you. A special ritual."

"But why?" Ayan asked. "Why can't I just… wear it?"

Mohan sighed. "It's not that simple, Ayan. This bracelet… it's more than just an ornament. It holds a connection. A connection to your mother. And… well, it has other… features… that you're not yet aware of."

Features? What features? Ayan wondered, his mind already racing. And a connection to Mom? What did that even mean?

Ayan frowned, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Features? What kind of features?"

"There are many," Mohan said. "I'll show you one now."

"Show me?" Ayan asked.

"Yes. Think of it like… a lock," Mohan said. "It needs a key to unlock it" (while running his fingers over the carved box). "And that key… is for the Interdimensional Storage. But first, we need to… unbind it."

Ayan frowned. "Unbind it? From what?"

"From your mother," Mohan replied. "This bracelet… it was hers. It carries her… imprint. We need to release that connection before it can be truly yours."

Ayan nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

He paused, glancing at Ayan. "And for that," Mohan continued, "we need… her blood."

Ayan frowned. "Her blood? But… where is it?"

Mohan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small vial. "I've kept it safe," he said, his voice soft. "It was… important to her. And now, it's important to you."

Ayan stared at the vial, a mixture of awe and unease swirling within him. He knew his mother was gone, but the thought of having a part of her with him, in this way, was both comforting and unsettling. Mom's blood… in that vial. It felt strange, almost unreal. What was this ritual going to be like? What was going to happen?