The darkness was suffocating, wrapping itself around Aanya and Zayn like a shroud. Aanya’s breaths came in short gasps as her vision blurred. The once-familiar warmth of her home was replaced by a chilling void that seemed to stretch endlessly.

“زین" (Zayn…) Aanya’s voice was barely a whisper, her fingers fumbling to find her brother’s arm. She felt his trembling hand grip hers tightly.

"ہمیں یہاں سے نکلنا ہے،" (We have to get out of here) Zayn muttered, his voice strained but resolute.

Before they could move, the mist surged forward, coiling around their feet like serpents. A low hum filled the air, vibrating through the walls and into their very bones. The temperature dropped further, each breath clouding before them.

Then, a figure emerged from the mist. It was tall and cloaked in flowing black robes that seemed to ripple with the shadows themselves. Its face was obscured by a dark veil, but two piercing silver eyes shone through, glowing with an intensity that pinned Aanya in place.

“انیہ خان نواب" (Aanya Khan Nawab) the figure intoned, its voice a chilling blend of authority and otherworldly echo. "مخطوطہ آپ کے پاس رکھنے کے لئے نہیں ہے." (The manuscript is not yours to keep)

Aanya’s knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to stand tall. "کون ہيں آپ? اور آپ اس کے ساتھ کیا چاہتے ہیں؟" (Who are you? And what do you want with it?) she demanded, her voice cracking but defiant.

The figure tilted its head, as if amused by her audacity. "میں مڈ نائٹ خاندان کا خادم ہوں، جسے عزت مآب کی ملکیت کو دوبارہ حاصل کرنے کے لیے بھیجا گیا ہے۔ مخطوطے میں ایسے راز ہیں جو پوشیدہ رہنے چاہئیں۔ آپ اپنی سمجھ سے بالاتر معاملات میں مداخلت کرتے ہیں۔" (I am a servant of the Midnight dynasty, sent to reclaim what belongs to His Highness. The manuscript holds secrets that must remain hidden. You meddle in affairs beyond your understanding.)

Zayn stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Aanya."ہمیں آپ کے رازوں کی پرواہ نہیں ہے. آپ ہم سے کچھ نہیں لے رہے ہیں." (We don’t care about your secrets. You’re not taking) anything from us.)

The figure’s silver eyes flickered toward Zayn, a trace of disdain evident in their glow. With a simple wave of its hand, the mist surged upward, throwing Zayn against the wall with a force that knocked the air from his lungs. He collapsed to the floor, gasping.

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"زین" (Zayn!) Aanya cried, rushing to his side. She turned back to the figure, anger boiling within her. "آپ اس سے بچ نہیں پائیں گے." (You won’t get away with this.)

The figure chuckled, a hollow sound that echoed in the void. “آپ کو لگتا ہے کہ آپ مجھے روک سکتے ہیں؟ بے وقوف لڑکی. ” (You think you can stop me? Foolish girl.)

But before it could act again, the mist suddenly recoiled as if struck by an unseen force. A golden light erupted from Aanya’s chest, radiating outward and pushing the darkness back. The figure staggered, its composure momentarily broken.

Aanya stared down at herself, stunned. Her hands glowed faintly, the energy pulsating through her veins unlike anything she’d ever felt. Memories of her childhood flickered in her mind—dreams of strange lights, whispers in the wind, and a feeling of being watched by something… protective.

"ناممکن" (Impossible) the figure hissed, its voice trembling with what sounded like fear. "تم... آپ نشان رکھتے ہیں." (You… you bear the mark.)

"کیا نشان ہے؟" (What mark?) Aanya demanded, but the figure was already retreating, its form dissolving into the mist.

"یہ ختم نہیں ہوا،" (This isn’t over) it warned, its voice fading. "عدالت سے انکار نہیں کیا جائے گا۔" (The Court will not be denied.)

As the last of the mist evaporated, the air grew still, and the oppressive chill lifted. Aanya dropped to her knees beside Zayn, shaking him gently. "زین، کیا تم ٹھیک ہو؟" “(Zayn, are you okay?)

He groaned, clutching his ribs but managing a weak smile. "مجھے یاد دلائیں کہ اگلی بار شیڈو عفریت کو مشتعل نہ کروں" (Remind me not to provoke shadow monsters next time)

Aanya let out a shaky laugh, tears welling in her eyes."ابھی کیا ہوا ہے؟ یہ کیا تھا... چیز?" (What just happened? What was that… thing?)

“مجھے نہيں معلوم" (I don’t know) Zayn admitted, wincing as he sat up. “لیکن جو کچھ بھی تھا، وہ آپ سے ڈرتا تھا” (But whatever it was, it was scared of you)

Aanya stared at her hands, the faint glow now gone. “میں سمجھا نہیں. وہ مجھے کیوں بلاتا ہے... نشان زد?” (I don’t understand. Why would it call me… marked?)

Zayn placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “اس کا جو بھی مطلب تھا، ہم اسے سمجھ لیں گے. ہم.” (Whatever it meant, we’ll figure it out. Together.)

Their moment of respite was interrupted by a sudden pounding on the door. Both siblings froze, their hearts racing once more.

“اب یہ کون ہو سکتا ہے؟” (Who could it be now?) Zayn whispered, his voice laced with suspicion.

Aanya rose cautiously, her mind replaying the night’s events. As she reached for the door, she hesitated, a lingering fear that another shadowed figure might await them. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

Standing on the threshold was a young man dressed in formal attire, his expression both urgent and apologetic. His sharp features were softened by his piercing blue eyes, and a small crest of the Durrani empire glinted on the lapel of his coat.

A friend or foe?

“مجھے انیا خان نواب سے بات کرنے کی ضرورت ہے,” (I need to speak with Aanya Khan Nawab) he said, his voice steady but edged with tension. “یہ مخطوطے کے بارے میں ہے. "” (It’s about the manuscript.)

Aanya’s heart sank. It seemed the nightmare was far from over.