ECHOES OF THE LOST REALM

  CHAPTER 01- MIST BEYOND MIDNIGHT

  JACK – Born and raised in the USA

  Age – 24

  Owns four buildings, all rented out. Born with a golden spoon—and he wears it like a crown.

  LILY – A sharp-eyed journalist, made in the USA.

  She sees stories in everything... even silence.

  ROSE – A wanderer at heart.

  Lived in France until age 7, now a historian fluent in eight languages, with a mind like a locked vault of forgotten knowledge.

  ROHAN – Born in India, raised in the US.

  An AI engineer with a curious brain and a habit of seeing patterns where no one else does.

  JANE – That’s me. Writer by soul, American by birth.

  And this... this is how our story began.

  April 26, 2027. The day time stopped making sense.

  It was Jack’s birthday—naturally, the celebration was extravagant. He invited us aboard his family’s yacht. Old money does that. Some friendships fade with time; ours aged like fire. Maybe that’s why we all showed up. Or maybe... something was pulling us.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  After the party, Jack—forever the spoiled child of fate—insisted we take one last ride out into the midnight sea. The stars above were unnervingly still, and the waters unusually calm. Against our better judgment, we agreed.

  That’s when we saw them.

  Five whales. Unlike anything found in books or sea documentaries. Their backs shimmered—not with water, but with something that looked like light trapped in crystal. Hypnotic. Otherworldly. They swam in perfect unison, circling our yacht. And then… we followed.

  We don’t remember choosing to.

  Moments later, the air thickened. A wall of swirling mist, dense and cloudlike, appeared before us—a barrier made of clouds. Before we could scream or turn back, we were through it. Then—darkness.

  When we opened our eyes, we weren’t in the sea anymore.

  We were surrounded—five islands in a circle, each more dreamlike than the last. Lush forests, glimmering waters, and skies that seemed too vivid to be real. But none of us were smiling.

  Because deep down, we all knew: this place wasn’t on Earth.

  No GPS. No signal. Rohan’s phone was useless. Panic crawled into our bones. Still, we had no choice but to explore. The nearest island was shaped like a flame from above, and the moment our feet touched its sands, we saw it—a blackened stone slab, ancient and weathered. One word carved into it.

  Rose stepped forward. She squinted, breath catching.

  “Sanskrit,” she whispered. “Agni… it means ‘Fire.’”

  The air turned colder.

  Further in, we found statues. Not marble. Not art. People—frozen mid-scream, reaching, trembling, protecting... pleading. Turned to stone.

  One—a man stretching out his arm toward an old woman.

  Another—a mother shielding her child.

  It hit us. These weren’t statues. They were once alive.

  The horror sank in.

  We fled back to the yacht, silence clinging to us. None of us spoke about the possibility we were next. We scavenged what was left of the food from Jack’s party, rationing it like it was treasure. The island of fire, the stone people, the cloud barrier—what kind of place had we entered?

  We were no longer asking where we were.

  We started asking when...

  ...and why us?

  One thing was certain.

  We followed the whales. But now... something was following us.

  To be continued.................