The vast Central Arena of Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya was alive with restless energy.
In the middle of the central platform, Rambika stood holding a mic.
Millions of eyes were locked on her, yet strangely, the moment she began to speak, a heavy silence swallowed the arena.
Not the peaceful kind.
The anticipatory kind.
Like the world had paused mid-breath.
Her fingers tightened around the mic.
Her gaze swept across the crowd once…
slowly…
deliberately.
And then—
“BLACK FEATHER…”
The words fell into the arena like a stone dropped into a still cosmic lake.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Just silence.
Then—
A ripple spread through the crowd.
Whispers erupted from the lower section.
“What did she say?”
“Black Feather?
That Black Feather?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?
Is it today’s event?”
Above the arena, the surveillance grid flickered briefly, as though even the university itself hesitated at the mention of Black Feather.
On the platform, Rambika didn’t stop.
Her expression sharpened.
“I believe everyone present here…
is familiar with this name.”
The murmurs intensified instantly.
What had begun as whispers exploded into a storm of voices.
Students’ eyes snapped back into focus, all fixed on her now—no more hesitation, no more confusion.
Only attention.
Sharp.
Uneasy.
The questions vanished.
Recognition spread through the crowd instead.
Recognition mixed with fear.
One of the senior students slowly turned toward the platform.
A faint trace of concern appeared in his eyes.
His hands remained tucked into his pockets.
Tense.
Alert.
Calculating.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“So they’re not treating it as a rumor anymore.”
Around him, several juniors instinctively glanced his way, searching for confirmation, for guidance—anything that could make sense of the sudden weight hanging over the arena.
But the senior remained silent.
Instead, he continued staring at Rambika as if he were trying to solve a far more important question than whether Black Feather existed.
A junior student leaned closer to his friend and whispered,
“I’ve heard a rumor about the fourth-year students.”
“…What?”
“In Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya, when a senior student stops smiling during an announcement like this…”
He cast a quick glance at the senior.
“…it usually means something is seriously wrong.”
“Really?
You know about Black Feather?”
“No.
I only heard something about it from some second-year students.”
“Huh…
what’s that?”
Rambika briefly glanced at her phone, as if confirming something.
Then she spoke again.
“And you all know that three people from the Eastern District have already gone missing—within the last three days.”
Even the remaining murmurs began to fade.
A short pause followed—
Rambika’s gaze swept across the countless faces before her.
“And now the university has decided to intervene.”
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Students exchanged uneasy glances.
Some looked excited.
Some looked worried.
Others had already pulled out their smartphones and laptops, searching for more information about the disappearances.
Rambika allowed the reactions to continue for several seconds before raising a hand.
Gradually, the arena fell silent once more.
Then a massive holographic display materialized above the central platform.
Three photographs appeared.
Three faces.
Three names.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd.
“They really disappeared…”
“I thought those reports were fake.”
“No bodies.”
“No clues.”
“No witnesses.”
Rambika’s expression remained calm.
“These are the three confirmed victims.”
The images slowly rotated above the arena, visible from every corner of the arena.
“Despite continuous investigation, no useful leads have been discovered.”
Then Rambika spoke a single word.
The holographic display shifted.
The photographs vanished.
In their place appeared a single black feather.
The instant it appeared, the arena fell silent.
Every student recognized the symbol.
Every student understood its meaning.
Rambika’s voice echoed throughout the vast arena.
“For that reason, Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya will be issuing a special team quest.”
A wave of surprise swept through the crowd.
“A team quest?”
“For missing persons?”
Then Rambika spoke again.
“Any student who uncovers information related to Black Feather will receive one hundred million credits and a direct recommendation from the university.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even breathing seemed to stop.
Because everyone understood what that reward represented.
*
*
*
The hall of Adishunya Vishwavidyalaya was quiet.
Vikrant and Adhiraj walked side by side through it.
Students passed by them from time to time, but neither paid much attention.
After a few minutes, Vikrant finally opened his mouth.
“Waste of time…
our mission is to handle the competition between Adishunya Vishwavidyalaya and Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya.”
He looked at Adhiraj.
“But instead, you dragged me across several universes for a side quest.”
He spoke in a smooth, polite tone.
“So, Senior, am I finally worthy of experiencing the full explanation from the beginning, or are there more side quests waiting for us?”
Adhiraj raised an eyebrow.
Vikrant continued before he could answer.
“This isn’t a game where you can tell the main quest, ‘See you later,’ and wander off on side quests.”
The faint smile disappeared from his face.
His expression turned serious.
“You can’t just ignore the main quest and hope it’ll wait for you.”
A brief pause—
“It’s real life.”
For a few seconds, only the sound of footsteps remained.
Adhiraj kept walking.
His expression didn’t change.
Then he sighed.
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”
Vikrant didn’t answer immediately.
“Since the first universe.”
Adhiraj glanced at him.
“And yet you still followed me.”
“Because I assumed there was a reason.”
Vikrant’s voice remained calm.
“I can tolerate confusion.
I can tolerate secrecy.
What I can’t tolerate is wasting time.”
The garden entrance slowly came into view ahead of them.
Students wandered along the pathways, completely unaware of the conversation taking place nearby.
Adhiraj remained silent for a moment.
Then he chuckled.
“Wasting time?
That’s a bold accusation coming from someone who spent half an hour arguing with a merchant over the price of a coconut.”
Vikrant’s expression didn’t change.
“It was about my own principles.”
“Of course it was.”
The two stepped into the garden.
A cool breeze swept through the trees.
Then Adhiraj’s smile faded.
“Fine.”
His voice became serious.
“You want the explanation from the beginning?”
He looked directly at Vikrant.
“Then listen carefully.
Because once I start, there’s no going back.”
Vikrant stopped walking.
Adhiraj stopped as well.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
The sounds of the garden seemed distant.
The laughter of students.
The rustling of leaves.
The gentle breeze.
All of it faded into the background.
Adhiraj slowly looked toward the sky.
“Tell me, Vikrant.
If someone offered you the chance to save a universe…”
He paused—
“…at the cost of another one, what would you choose?”
Vikrant frowned.
“What kind of question is this?”
Adhiraj slowly shifted his gaze toward him.
“A simple one.”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
Adhiraj nodded calmly. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“This is my answer too.”
Silence—
Then he continued.
“The problem is that reality doesn’t care about our answers.”
Vikrant’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Adhiraj lowered his gaze.
“The competition between Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya and Adishunya Vishwavidyalaya isn’t the mission.”
A brief pause—
“It never was.”
The wind suddenly felt colder.
Vikrant stared at him without a word.
Adhiraj’s voice remained calm.
“The competition is only what is visible.
Everything important is happening beneath that visibility.”
He looked directly at Vikrant.
“Something is moving behind the scenes.
Something that shouldn’t exist.”
For the first time since the conversation began, there wasn’t even a trace of humor on his face.
“And if we’re too late…”
His gaze drifted toward the distant horizon.
“The competition between the two universities will become the least of our concerns.”
For a moment, Vikrant didn’t respond.
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“…Beneath?”
A brief silence settled between the two of them.
His eyes shifted, as if replaying everything he knew about the inter-university system—the rankings, battles, training, lectures, martial arts, public attention—searching for a pattern that didn’t fit.
Then—
“…so it’s not about the competition itself.”
He spoke slowly.
Not a question.
A thought forming out loud.
Adhiraj didn’t answer.
That silence was enough.
Vikrant’s expression tightened a fraction.
“…it’s about what the competition produces.”
He stopped suddenly—
Something almost clicked in his mind, but he didn’t say it.
Instead, his voice lowered.
“…No.”
A short breath.
“That’s too simple.”
He looked at Adhiraj again.
“Something like that wouldn’t need this much secrecy.”
The thought faded—but didn’t disappear.
Adhiraj’s gaze lingered on Vikrant for a moment.
Then—
“Vikrant, you came close.
Very close.
But not enough.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
“And that is worth more to you than an answer would be.
Because a truth discovered is worth more than a truth given.”
Vikrant stared at him for several seconds.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Then—
Their eyes swept across the garden in search of the President.
Adhiraj glanced around.
“I think we’re in the wrong location.”
His gaze swept across the garden again.
“No…
this is definitely the right place.
But where’s Devraj?”
Vikrant’s eyes narrowed in disappointment.
“There’s no sign of his girlfriend either.”
Another silence followed—
Vikrant looked up at the sky, closed his eyes, and buried his face in both hands.
“…Senior.”
“Yes?”
“I think we’ve been scammed.”
*
*
*
The sun still shone brightly over Shunyagarbha.
Life continued at its usual pace.
Crowded streets stretched as far as the eye could see.
The sounds of conversation, commerce, and traffic blended into the city’s endless rhythm.
It was an ordinary day.
At least, it appeared that way.
On the side of the road, a young woman stood slightly apart from the crowd, as if the noise simply passed around her.
A young man stood in front of her.
A pause lingered between them—quiet, but heavy.
Then the young woman spoke.
“Next?”
The boy blinked once.
“Next… what?”
She didn’t look at him immediately, her gaze still on the moving street.
“You’ve been standing here for ten minutes.”
Sometimes, we notice big things happening in the world… But still get stuck on small moments that feel more real to us.