Chapter-1
Mom! They're on TV!"
Eleven-year-old Aarav almost spilled his milk as he rushed closer to the television.
His mother sighed. "Slow down."
The news anchor smiled at the camera.
"Today marks the beginning of a new chapter in human history. After decades of isolation, all surviving cured infected will officially return to society under the National Return Program."
The screen changed.
Tall concrete walls.
Barbed wires.
White buses lined up outside the gates.
The words LIVE flashed in the corner.
"Are those..." Aarav leaned forward. "...the zombies?"
His grandfather looked up from the newspaper.
"They're still zombies."
His father shook his head.
"They're cured."
"They're called cured," his grandfather muttered. "There's a difference."
The anchor continued,
"The government has officially designated them as The Returned. Citizens are advised to avoid terms such as 'zombies' or 'infected.'"
"The Returned..." Aarav repeated slowly.
"It sounds nicer than zombie," he said innocently.
His grandfather snorted.
"You can call a tiger a cat. Doesn't make it one."
The room fell silent.
Chapter-2
Reintegration Center – Zone 1
"So..."
A young man stretched his stiff shoulders and looked around the room.
"This is it?"
Nobody answered.
Rows of metal chairs filled the waiting hall. Some Returned sat quietly. Some stared at the floor. Some couldn't stop looking at the giant steel doors at the far end of the room.
The doors that would finally lead outside.
A Returned sitting nearby scratched his neck.
"I thought they'd at least give us cake."
A few people looked up.
"Cake?" another scoffed. "We'll be lucky if they don't throw stones."
This time, a few chuckles spread through the room.
Even Vihaan smiled.
Only for a second.
Then the smile faded.
The room grew quiet again
Nobody knew what waited beyond those doors.
Chapter 3
A loud announcement echoed through the building.
"Attention. Final clearance complete. All Returned, please proceed to Exit Gate One."
For decades...
Those gates had remained shut.
Today...
They were opening.
The giant steel doors slowly moved apart.
Sunlight poured inside.
Some Returned instinctively covered their eyes.
Others simply stared.
One by one...
They stepped outside.
Camera flashes exploded everywhere.
People cried.
Some waved.
Some turned away.
Some watched from a distance.
Government officers began calling names.
"Family Reunification."
Names started echoing across the grounds.
Some families began crying the moment a familiar face appeared.
Others simply stood there, staring.
An elderly woman suddenly covered her mouth.
A young woman stood a few feet away from her.
The old woman looked as though she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.
While time had left its mark on the parents, it seemed to have forgotten their daughter.
After a moment's hesitation, the mother took the first step.
Another name was called.
A man near the barricade stiffened.
A teenage boy stepped forward.
For a second, neither moved.
They shared the same eyes.
The same face.
Yet one had grown older while the other hadn't.
"Hey..." the man finally said.
His voice cracked.
The boy simply looked back.
More names followed.
More reunions.
More tears.
More silences.
Then
"Vihaan."
He stepped forward.
The officer checked a tablet before sliding a keycard across the desk.
"Apartment C-18."
Vihaan took it.
The officer hesitated.
"No surviving family members were found."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the officer quietly added,
"...We're sorry."
Vihaan nodded.
Behind him, someone laughed through tears while hugging a loved one they thought they had lost forever.
Someone else stood holding his father's hand, unable to let go.
Vihaan slipped the keycard into his pocket and walked toward the waiting bus.
No one called his name.
Chapter 4
The bus moved through the city.
No one spoke much.
The Returned sat quietly, watching the world outside.
Some looked curious.
Some looked away.
Maybe it was easier not to see how much had changed.
Then
"Woah."
The voice was so sudden that everyone turned.
A young Returned was pressed against the window.
His eyes were wide.
"What?"
He didn't answer.
He only pointed outside.
Slowly, others moved closer.
Through the glass, a massive tower of steel and glass stood above the city.
Higher than anything they remembered.
For a few seconds, the bus went silent.
"Was that always there?"
"No."
"Then how long does it take to build something like that?"
Nobody answered.
The bus kept moving.
Another Returned suddenly frowned.
"Wait."
Everyone looked at him.
"Why is everyone carrying a tiny television?"
A few people looked outside.
Almost everyone walking on the street held a small glowing screen in their hands.
Someone blinked.
"All of them?"
"Maybe people like watching television while walking now."
A laugh escaped from the back of the bus.
A real one.
For a moment, the tension inside the bus became lighter.
Then another Returned noticed something outside.
"Look."
A car moved silently beside them.
No loud engine.
No smoke.
Just smooth movement.
The man stared.
"Where is the sound?"
Nobody replied.
The car moved ahead and disappeared into traffic.
Vihaan watched everything quietly.
The world outside felt familiar.
And completely unfamiliar at the same time.
People were walking.
Talking.
Laughing.
Living.
A child ran toward his mother, holding her hand.
And suddenly
A scream.
A woman.
Blood on her clothes.
Two children behind her.
"Run!"
Vihaan blinked.
The image vanished.
The city returned.
The bus was still moving.
His hand tightened around the seat.
He looked around.
Nobody had noticed.
Or maybe nobody wanted to talk about their own strange memories.
The bus finally stopped.
"C-18."
Vihaan stood up.
The driver looked at him.
"Your stop."
He stepped outside.
The doors closed behind him.
The bus moved away.
Leaving him alone in front of a building he had never seen before.
A keycard rested in his hand.
A new home waited for him.
But for the first time...
Vihaan wondered if a place could be called home when nobody was waiting inside.
Chapter 5 - Vihaan
The apartment door closed behind me.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
The room was dark.
I reached toward the wall beside the door.
Nothing.
I moved my hand around, searching for a switch.
Still nothing.
I checked another side.
Nothing again.
I frowned.
"Seriously?"
I looked around the dark apartment.
Back then, finding a light switch had never been a challenge.
Apparently, even that had become complicated now.
I waited.
Nothing happened.
My patience lasted a few more seconds.
"Fucking hell."
I looked up.
"Just turn on."
The lights immediately came to life.
I froze.
Every corner of the apartment slowly lit up.
The living room.
The hallway.
The kitchen.
For a moment, I just stared.
Then a calm voice spoke.
"Hello, Vihaan."
I turned around quickly.
Nobody.
The voice continued.
"I am your personal home assistant. Please let me know if you require any help."
I stared at the ceiling.
A house that talked.
That was new.
Although, after everything I had seen, maybe not the strangest thing anymore.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Can you turn off gravity?"
A short pause.
"That function is unavailable."
I nodded slowly.
"Good."
I looked around the apartment.
"At least some things are still impossible."
Silence.
For some reason, I felt like the apartment was judging me.
Which was ridiculous.
Houses didn't judge people.
Probably.
I walked further inside.
The apartment was clean.
A sofa.
A bed.
A kitchen.
Everything looked prepared.
Almost like someone had expected me to arrive.
But no one actually had.
I ran my fingers over the edge of the table.
Everything was new.
Everything belonged here.
Except me.
I didn't know how long I stood there.
Maybe a few minutes.
Maybe longer.
Eventually, I walked toward the balcony.
And stopped.
The city stretched endlessly before me.
Tall glass buildings reached into the sky.
Lights moved everywhere.
Thousands of windows.
Thousands of lives.
For the first time since returning...
I wasn't looking at memories.
I was looking at a future I didn't recognize.
People moved along the streets below.
Talking.
Laughing.
Living.
Then I noticed a little boy across the street.
He was looking up.
At me.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
Then he smiled.
And waved.
I blinked.
I wasn't expecting that.
Slowly, I raised my hand and waved back.
The boy's smile grew wider.
For a moment...
Everything felt strangely normal.
Then the woman beside him noticed where he was looking.
Her eyes moved toward me.
Her expression changed.
She said something softly to the boy.
I couldn't hear the words.
The boy looked confused.
A second later, she gently took his hand and led him away.
He looked back once before disappearing into the crowd.
My hand slowly dropped.
The city continued moving.
Cars passed.
People laughed.
Lights flickered across the buildings.
The world had moved forward.
It had learned to live without us.
I looked out at the endless city.
The gates had opened.
But maybe...
Not everyone was ready to let us in.
Chapter 6 Ananya
Weekends were always chaotic.
Every table was occupied.
Orders were piling up.
The kitchen was running five minutes behind schedule.
And Tara was complaining.
Which meant everything was perfectly normal.
"We need another server."
I didn't look up from the register.
"We needed another server two weeks ago."
"Exactly."
Tara dropped a stack of bills on the counter.
"Ever since Rohan left, everyone's doing double shifts."
"You've been saying that all week."
"Because it's still true."
I finally looked at her.
She immediately pointed across the restaurant.
"Table four needs water."
Then another table.
"Table seven wants the bill."
Then another.
"And table two has been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes."
I sighed.
"You're impossible."
"No."
Tara smiled.
"We're understaffed."
Before I could answer, the front door opened.
A family walked inside.
A man.
A woman.
And a young girl between them.
At first, I didn't pay much attention.
Then I noticed people looking.
Not openly.
Not rudely.
Just long enough to be noticeable.
A few conversations lowered.
Someone glanced at their phone.
Then back at the girl.
Whispers followed.
Quiet.
Careful.
The kind people pretend you can't hear.
The girl noticed.
Of course she did.
She kept walking anyway.
Her shoulders remained straight.
Her parents stayed close beside her.
Protective.
Without making it obvious.
The woman approached the counter.
"Reservation for three."
I checked the booking list.
Birthday Reservation – Sakshi Mehra.
The name stopped me for a second.
Then it clicked.
The interviews.
The news reports.
One of the Returned.
Around the restaurant, the whispers grew slightly louder.
Sakshi looked tired.
Not embarrassed.
Not angry.
Just tired.
As if she had already seen this reaction a hundred times before.
I closed the reservation book.
Then smiled.
"Happy Birthday, Sakshi."
For a second, she looked genuinely surprised.
Not because I knew her name.
Because it was the first thing I had said.
Before the questions.
Before the curiosity.
Before anything else.
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Thank you."
"Your table's ready."
Relief flashed across her mother's face.
Her father smiled.
A real one.
I picked up three menus and led them toward the window table.
As they sat down, I noticed a few people still staring.
Most looked away the moment they were caught.
Some didn't.
Sakshi pretended not to notice.
Her parents pretended not to notice.
And somehow that made it worse.
I placed the menus on the table.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
The atmosphere immediately became lighter.
Normal.
Exactly how it should have been.
When I returned to the counter, Tara was already waiting.
"You knew who she was."
"Yeah."
Tara glanced toward the window table.
"Most people would've been awkward."
I shrugged.
"It's her birthday."
For a moment, Tara simply stared at me.
Then she laughed.
"Sometimes I genuinely can't tell if you're a good person or just weird."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You shouldn't."
The dinner rush continued.
Orders came in.
Plates went out.
Someone complained about extra onions.
Someone else wanted a different table.
Life moved on.
Across the restaurant, Sakshi laughed at something her father said.
The sound carried further than the whispers had.
And for the first time since she'd walked in...
Nobody seemed to be staring anymore.
Chapter 7 Vihaan
The apartment was quiet.
For once, I didn't mind it.
I was standing in the kitchen staring at a packet of instant noodles.
The instructions claimed it would take three minutes.
I didn't trust them.
"Reminder: lunch."
I ignored it.
"Reminder: lunch."
Still ignored it.
"Reminder: lunch."
I looked up.
"I heard you the first two times."
"Your meal has been delayed for three hours."
"Congratulations."
The doorbell rang.
Perfect.
I escaped the conversation and opened the door.
Neil stood outside with a backpack hanging from one shoulder.
He looked past me into the apartment.
Then back at me.
"Nice."
"You've been here for two seconds."
"Exactly. First impressions."
Before I could say anything else, he walked inside.
I watched him go.
"You could've waited for an invitation."
"I could've."
Neil looked around the living room.
"Very spacious."
"It's not."
"Very clean."
"I moved in recently."
"Very depressing."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He dropped onto the sofa.
Then immediately stood up again.
"No snacks?"
"No."
"No drinks?"
"No."
"No food?"
"I have noodles."
Neil stared at me.
"Vihaan."
"What?"
"You live like a serial killer."
"I have furniture."
"You have one chair."
"I have a sofa."
"You have one chair and a sofa."
I decided not to argue.
Neil wandered into the kitchen.
A second later, cabinet doors started opening.
Then closing.
Then opening again.
"Are you searching my apartment?"
"I'm investigating."
"Why?"
"There has to be food somewhere."
"There isn't."
A pause.
"That's actually sad."
He finally gave up and returned to the living room.
A few minutes later, the assistant spoke again.
"Reminder: lunch."
Without thinking, I answered.
"Not now, Mona Darling."
Silence.
A very long silence.
Slowly, I looked up.
Neil was staring at me.
"...I'm sorry."
I already knew where this was going.
"What?"
"What did you just call it?"
"Nothing."
"That wasn't nothing."
"It was absolutely something."
I sighed.
Neil pointed dramatically toward the ceiling.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Tell me."
"Neil."
"Tell me."
I regretted everything.
"Mona Darling."
Silence.
Neil blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"...Mona Darling?"
"Yes."
"The assistant?"
"Yes."
"Your actual choice?"
"Yes."
Neil sat down slowly.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"For the first time since I've known you..."
"I'm concerned."
I threw a cushion at him.
He dodged it.
"That's a ridiculous name."
"It needed a name."
"There were millions of names."
"I picked one."
"You picked that one."
I shrugged.
Neil looked genuinely disturbed.
Mona Darling chose that exact moment to speak.
"Would you like me to create a shopping list?"
"No," we both said at the same time.
The apartment fell silent.
Then Neil started laughing.
A real laugh.
The kind that came from somewhere deep.
A second later, I found myself laughing too.
For the first time since moving in...
The apartment didn't feel quite so empty.
Eventually the laughter faded.
Neil leaned back against the sofa.
I looked at him.
"You got home?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
He shrugged.
"Got bored."
I looked at him.
Neil suddenly found the window very interesting.
A few seconds passed.
Then I sighed.
Fine."
"You can stay."
Neil immediately pointed at me.
"See?"
"This is why I came."
"Don't make me change my mind."
"Too late."
"Neil."
"I'm being quiet."
"You literally just spoke
"That doesn't count."
"Neil."
"What?"
"Stop talking."
"Now you are just being unreasonable."
I shook my head.
But I walked toward the kitchen anyway.
Behind me, I heard Neil make himself comfortable on the sofa.
As if he'd already decided he wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Chapter 8
The city slept.
Far beyond the lights.
Far beyond the roads.
Far beyond the new apartments built for the Returned...
The old zone remained untouched.
Nobody lived there anymore.
Nobody had a reason to.
Broken fences stretched across the landscape.
Rust covered the gates.
Collapsed buildings stood like skeletons against the night sky.
The wind moved through the ruins.
Carrying echoes no one wanted to remember.
A figure stood near the remains of the outer fence.
Motionless.
Watching.
The place where thousands had once been abandoned.
Where fear had replaced hope.
Where the world had decided some lives were better left forgotten.
The figure slowly stepped forward.
The broken ground beneath his feet made no sound.
The ruins did not scare him.
They welcomed him.
He stopped in the middle of the abandoned streets.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Looking at what remained.
The empty buildings.
The rusted barriers.
The walls that once separated them from the world.
He closed his eyes.
The wind carried the scent of rust, dust, and decay.
A hollow smile appeared on his face.
This felt like home.
Chapter 9 Vihaan
The room was quieter than I expected.
Maybe because everyone here knew what it felt like to return to a world that had already moved on.
I sat in my chair, looking at the faces around me.
Some looked hopeful.
Some looked tired.
Some looked like they were still trying to figure out where they belonged.
The therapist placed her file on the table.
"Before we end today's session, I want to ask you all one last question."
Everyone looked at her.
"Do you feel accepted?"
For a moment, nobody answered.
Then a man sitting near the door spoke.
"My family accepted me."
He smiled faintly.
"But my neighbours still avoid me."
He looked down.
"They don't say anything."
A pause.
"But I know what they think."
A woman sitting beside him spoke next.
"My workplace is the same."
"They are polite."
She gave a small, humourless laugh.
"Sometimes too polite."
"Like they are scared that one wrong word will remind them of what I was."
The room went silent.
I looked around.
Different faces.
Different stories.
Same feeling.
Like we had returned...
but we were still standing outside the door.
The therapist folded her hands.
"Acceptance is not something that happens overnight."
"People spent years learning to fear what you became."
"Now they have to learn to see who you are."
She paused.
"And that takes time."
I looked down at my hands.
Time.
Something we all had lost.
The therapist turned toward the man sitting near the window.
"And you?"
A small ray of sunlight fell across his face.
Without thinking, he covered his eyes.
I noticed.
So did he.
But he didn't move his hand.
"Sometimes I sit near the window when the sun comes in."
His voice was quiet.
"And every time the light hits my face, I cover my eyes."
He looked at his hand.
"Not because it hurts."
"Because I got used to hiding."
Nobody interrupted.
"I spent so long trying to forget what I became."
His voice became softer.
"But people keep reminding me."
He looked back toward the window.
"So I guess..."
"I don't want my old life back."
"I know that time is gone."
He took a breath.
"I just want one day..."
"One day where I don't feel like I need to hide."
The room stayed silent.
But this time, it didn't feel uncomfortable.
It felt like everyone understood.
I looked at Neil.
Strangely, he wasn't joking.
He wasn't making faces.
He was just listening.
I frowned.
"Why are you listening so carefully?"
Neil looked at me.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"Are you two close?"
Neil glanced toward the man near the window.
Then shrugged.
"You can say that."
That was all he said.
But somehow, it was enough.
The therapist turned toward the woman sitting beside him.
"And you?"
She gave a small smile.
"I think about something strange sometimes."
She looked around the room.
"The doctors and scientists found a cure."
"They did something everyone thought was impossible."
She paused.
"Sometimes I wonder..."
"If science could do something like that..."
"Maybe one day it could do something even more impossible."
Everyone looked at her.
"Like letting us go back."
A small silence followed.
"Not to change everything."
"Not to save the world."
She looked down.
"Just to have one more day."
"One normal day."
"Before everything changed."
"Before we lost the lives we were supposed to have."
Nobody spoke.
Because nobody had an answer.
Then Neil raised his hand.
Everyone looked at him.
"Sorry."
The therapist sighed.
"Neil."
"No, listen."
He looked completely serious.
"I actually want to know something."
A few people stared at him.
"Who made us like this?"
Silence.
"Was it the virus?"
He thought for a second.
"Or was I just unlucky enough to become someone's dinner?"
I looked at him.
Neil looked back at me.
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Maybe it was you."
I stared at him.
"I think it was you who made me like this."
His eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
"With your tongue lolling out?"
Neil blinked.
"What?"
"Looking at you now, I can confirm."
I leaned back.
"You probably used to run around with your mouth wide open and your tongue lolling out."
"Vihaan."
"I'm just saying."
I paused.
"People probably didn't know whether to run from a zombie or a clown."
Neil looked offended.
"That is extremely specific."
"And probably accurate."
For the first time during the session...
The man near the window smiled.
The woman beside him shook her head.
"I was talking about losing years of my life."
She looked between us.
"And you two are discussing whether he looked like a zombie clown."
Neil nodded seriously.
His eyes moved toward the file in front of her.
"Nisha."
She looked at him, slightly confused.
"Yes?"
"Important questions need answers."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
The session ended soon after.
People slowly started leaving the room.
Some said goodbye.
Some didn't.
Maybe some things were still too difficult to say.
I was about to leave when the therapist stopped the man near the window.
"Dushant."
He turned.
"Your government apartment request has been approved."
For a moment, he just stared.
"The apartment?"
She nodded.
"You can move in this week."
Dushant looked down.
Then gave a small nod.
Not a happy one.
Not a relieved one.
Just a quiet acceptance.
Like he had been waiting for a place to exist.
I watched him leave.
And wondered...
Maybe getting a home was easy.
Maybe the difficult part was believing you belonged there.
Elsewhere
The room was dark.
The man jerked awake.
A sharp breath escaped him.
Fragments.
Again.
Voices.
Faces.
Screams.
They crashed into his mind without warning.
He pressed his palms against his ears.
"Stop..."
His voice trembled.
The voices grew louder.
People staring.
People whispering.
People stepping away.
A familiar voice echoed somewhere in the chaos.
"You'll never be one of us."
Another.
"The cure changed your body."
"Not what you are."
"No..."
He pulled at his hair.
Hard.
His breathing became uneven.
The memories wouldn't stop.
The voices wouldn't stop.
His hands shook.
"Stop!"
The room remained silent.
Only the voices inside his head answered.
"You don't belong with them."
"You never will."
Something inside him snapped.
A raw scream tore from his throat.
The sound echoed through the room.
Then...
silence.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his head.
The agony was still there.
The loneliness was still there.
But something else was there now.
Something colder.
The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
And for the first time in a very long time...
he stopped trying to convince himself they were wrong.
to be continued....
