📅 20 June 2027
🕛 Wednesday, 11.35pm
📍 Cheras Christian Cemetery, KL
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The night was heavy. The sky above Cheras Christian Cemetery wore a thick veil of clouds, and even the moon seemed reluctant to shine.
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We arrived in silence.
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The headstone read:
George Kannappan
But deep inside, both Martin and I knew... it was a lie.
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Martin immediately contacted the police control room. Backup arrived in minutes. The officers exhumed the coffin. And just as we feared, there she was.
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Shabana.
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Her cold, lifeless body lay inside the coffin, hidden beneath a stolen name. After the formalities and post-mortem, the police confirmed what we already knew. The pigeon tattoo on her right ankle-exactly like the one I saw in my dream-sealed the truth.
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It was her.
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📅 21 June 2027
🕛 Thursday, 2.30am
📍 Hospital Besar Kuala Lumpur, KL
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Ravana arrived, her adopted child clinging to her side, with Babu following behind. She stood frozen by her sister's body, her eyes flooding with tears that spoke volumes.
Not a single word came from her lips.
But pain doesn't always need language. Her silence screamed louder than grief itself.
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Martin and I had just one hour left.
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I sat cross-legged, wearing the Chakran around my neck and began my meditation. With Shabana's body nearby, her spiritual frequency echoed strongly-bringing me closer, faster, to her essence.
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That's why finding her body was crucial.
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In my meditative trance, I saw something.
A wooden comb with a flower carving, resting on a mirror table inside a dimly lit room. I sketched it immediately after I opened my eyes.
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Martin leaned closer, eyes wide.
"I saw that comb before," he whispered. "At Shabana's house."
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We didn't waste a single second.
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📅 20 June 2027
🕛 Thursday, 3.20am
📍 Shabana's house, Bukit Bintang
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We broke inside. The silence in the house felt heavier than ever.
And there it was-the comb.
Sitting right where my vision showed.
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I clutched it tight. I could feel it-this was the personal object tied to her soul.
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I took out my Thrisula Pendant and activated the ritual.
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In seconds, the space around us shifted. A cold breeze swept through the room as Shabana's spirit appeared-calm, glowing faintly.
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She smiled at me... but her eyes, filled with tears, spoke louder than words.
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She knew. She knew I came for her.
She placed her transparent hand on my head. I was wearing The Reflector-which meant... her final memories, her truth, flowed into me.
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And what I saw... will never leave me.
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She walked calmly to the chair beneath the ceiling fan. A rope dangled above. Her expression was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
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She climbed. She tightened the noose.
And then... she laughed.
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The laughter was bone-chilling.
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Behind her, the mirror reflected something else.
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A figure in a raincoat, wearing a white Korean mask, stood just a few feet away-watching.
Still.
Silent.
Unmoving.
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Whoever it was... they witnessed it all.
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Then darkness.
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The vision ended.
And Shabana's soul... faded away.
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We now have 7 days left.
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The case has officially begun.
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and then Add to home screen.