Chapter 1: The Silence of Colour Aryan pushed the door open slowly. It creaked, breaking the thick silence inside the room. Neel’s art studio was dark and quiet. The smell of old paint, turpentine, and dust filled the air. It felt cold—not just in temperature, but in a strange, hollow way. He stood there for a moment without moving. The place didn’t feel the same. Something was wrong. Very wrong. This was the same studio where Neel had once worked every single day. The walls used to be covered in large, colourful paintings. His brushes were always busy, his hands stained with paint, and his mind full of wild ideas. There was always music playing, and sometimes Aryan would sit in the corner, watching Neel lose himself in the colours and shapes.