Darkness.
Then—sand.
Coarse, hot, endless.
Maarun opened his eyes, coughing. His throat was dry. His body ached.
No sky above. Only a choking, orange fog.
He was alone.
The ground cracked as he stood. His hands trembled. No dice. No Dev. No Roshan.
Just wind… and whispers.
"This is the Valley of Dust," something murmured from the mist.
"Where names die, and hope is erased."
He started to walk. Each step heavier than the last.
📜 MEMORY ONE: The Laughing Wall
He stumbled into a clearing. Walls rose from the dust — school lockers, desks. A boy, younger Maarun, stood alone while laughter echoed all around him.
Dev and Roshan walked past without seeing him. They joined the crowd, smiling.
"You're always last," said a voice.
"Even to your friends."
Maarun shouted, "This isn't real!"
The scene dissolved into sand.
📜 MEMORY TWO: The House on Fire
He ran toward a flicker of light in the duststorm — a house ablaze.
His old home.
He screamed, rushing inside. Flames licked the walls. Heat blistered his skin. Through the smoke—
He saw her.
His mother.
Coughing. Struggling to breathe. Trying to protect something in her arms — the dice.
"Maarun, run!" she shouted.
He couldn't move.
Then — a figure cloaked in shadow stepped through the fire. Red eyes. Blade in hand.
It raised its sword—
"MA!" Maarun screamed, but it was too late.
He watched her fall.
The world froze. Ash in the air. Her blood ran toward him, staining his hands.
"You were made from death," whispered the fog.
"You bring only ruin."
He dropped to his knees, shaking. "No… no, this isn't true…"
📜 MEMORY THREE: The Mirror Field
Suddenly — silence.
He stood in a vast empty field, where broken mirrors floated in the air. Each showed versions of himself:
Maarun, the Destroyer, burning cities.Maarun, the Forgotten, old and alone.Maarun, the Child, crying in a locked closet.
He stared into them all.
They laughed.
They wept.
They begged.
But one mirror was different. It didn't show a version of him.
It showed a light.
His mother.
She stepped forward, gentle and smiling — but her eyes were sad.
"You're not cursed, my son."
"You carry pain because your heart was built for love."
"Even if the world hates you… you must not forget who you are."
He reached for her.
"I'm still here," she whispered. "In your will."
She placed a glowing circle in his palm.
"You don't need to destroy the world… You just need to stand."
He gasped awake.
Back in the trial chamber.
Covered in ash and blood.
The crowd was silent.
The Principal watched him closely. "You did not scream. You did not give up."
Maarun looked at his hand.
The circle symbol glowed faintly — not from the dice, but from himself.
Dev and Roshan stood nearby, both pale but alive.
For the first time, Maarun felt something stirring inside.
Not power.
Not vengeance.
But purpose.
"Three trials…" the Principal said.
"Three survivors."
"The Dice has chosen."