"Is it possible?" Azhini thought, her mind spinning. "Could it really be him? Has he achieved what he desired, with just a few words of guidance from me?" She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. This can't be the same Kavin, she convinced herself. It must just be a coincidence. There are a hundred people named Kavin in the world.

But the more she thought about it, the harder it became to ignore the eerie coincidence. Her pulse quickened, and the familiar feeling of uncertainty crept back.

The sound of a cough broke her reverie. She blinked and turned her head, only to see her professor subtly clear his throat, his eyes darting toward her. But she was too lost in her thoughts to catch the signal.

Noticing her absent-mindedness, Dr. Nila, always the pragmatic one, took charge. "Can we get more details?" she asked, her tone professional yet patient. "Do we know his full name? Age? Any history of trauma or illness?"

Azhini was jolted from her thoughts by a nudge on her elbow. Priya, the ever-curious and mischievous colleague, leaned in and whispered, "Hey, does Kavin happen to be your secret crush?"

Azhini blinked, still dazed, and stammered, "Yes... oh, no..." Her face flushed a deep shade of red, and Priya grinned mischievously.

"Hehehe. Seems I’ve diagnosed well. Is this the same Kavin? So your secret romance’s ending is tragic, huh? Tch, tch."

Azhini shot her a look of irritation, her blush deepening. "Shut it already, Priya," she muttered, but Priya just giggled, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Hey, you two, stop chit-chatting," Senior Karthik called out, his voice cutting through the banter. "Go assess his tone and reflexes. We don’t have all day."

Everyone quickly snapped into action, their professionalism returning as they carried out their duties. Meanwhile, Dr. Sivaraaman and the old man had retreated to the balcony, quietly conversing. The serious expressions on their faces told Azhini that the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one.

After a thorough assessment, the doctors gathered around to summarize their findings. Azhini quickly reviewed her notes, trying to maintain her focus on the patient before her. When they had finished, they approached Dr. Sivaraaman and presented their conclusions.

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Dr. Sivaraaman listened intently, then exchanged a few low murmurs with the elderly man, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned to Azhini.

"Azhini," he said, his voice calm but urgent. "Can you look for my tablet? I think I left it near the cot."

Azhini nodded and made her way back to the patient. The soft hum of the machines surrounded her, a steady reminder of the fragile life that lay before her. As she approached, something caught her eye—a faint metallic glint near his ear.

Frowning, she leaned closer and noticed a small, chip-like device embedded just inside the ear canal. Her curiosity piqued, she reached out to inspect it. Suddenly, a sharp edge on the cot nicked her finger, and she winced, pulling back instinctively. A drop of blood welled up and fell onto the metallic surface.

The moment the blood touched the cot, it began to hum softly. Azhini froze, her breath catching as glowing inscriptions lit up along its edges. They illuminated in a sequence, each symbol more vivid than the last. She felt her chest tighten as she recognized the markings.

These are... Chants and symbols, she realized, her mind racing. Ancient scripts... but arranged in a way I’ve never seen before.

Her pulse quickened, and despite the eerie glow, she leaned in closer. The intricate carvings seemed to beckon her. Compelled by curiosity—and perhaps something deeper—she began to read the chants aloud, barely aware of her own voice. Each word resonated through the room, awakening the inscriptions further.

With every syllable she uttered, the air grew colder and heavier, like the weight of centuries pressing down upon her. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t stop. The mystery was too great.

Unnoticed by the others, a black cat silently slipped into the room. It moved with an uncanny grace and settled in a shadowed corner, its eyes fixed on her. Its gaze felt unsettlingly intelligent.

As Azhini read the final inscription, the cot blazed with light, casting the entire room in an unearthly glow. The moment the last word left her lips, the cat leapt onto a nearby console, its paw pressing a button with startling precision.

The machines around her roared to life, displays flashing orange and red. The chip in the patient’s ear glowed brighter, pulsing in rhythm with the deep hum that now filled the room.

Azhini felt a sudden chill seep into her bones. Her fingers turned numb, and her heart rate slowed unnaturally. Instinctively, she placed two fingers on her wrist, checking her pulse. Her doctor’s mind kicked in, processing what was happening even as her body betrayed her.

“Pulse rate... dropping rapidly. Peripheral resistance decreasing. Respiratory rate slowing...” Her thoughts grew fragmented as she gasped for air. Her breaths came shallow and uneven, her vision blurring as the room tilted around her. “Is this... the onset of suspended animation? But... why me?”

Her body grew heavier, her limbs leaden, as a deep cold took over. Yet even in her deteriorating state, she clung to her observations. “Body temperature... plummeting. Signs of hypothermia. This is... an artificial induction of suspended animation...”

Through the haze, her gaze fell on the black cat. Its eyes glowed faintly in the cot’s light, and its expression was almost... knowing.

Then came the pull.

A powerful force yanked at her, dragging her toward the cot. She resisted, her body straining against the invisible suction, but it was futile. Within seconds, the pull became unstoppable, and her body surrendered to it.

The world around her dissolved into a vortex of light and sound. Colors blurred into streaks of gold and white, and the hum of the machines grew deafening before fading altogether.

Then—darkness.

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