The rain started before I realized how late it had gotten.

Not the soft kind that whispers against rooftops, the heavy kind that crashes down like it has something to prove. The kind that makes the city feel colder than it already is.

I stood under the flickering streetlight outside the workshop, my hands buried deep in my pockets, watching the water gather in shallow puddles along the road. The neon sign across the street buzzed like it was struggling to stay alive, just like everything else around here, Including me.

I exhaled slowly, my breath mixing with the damp air. My body ached in places I had stopped paying attention to a long time ago. Twelve hours of lifting, fixing, carrying… it does something to you. Not just your body, your mind too.

You stop thinking about dreams.

You start thinking about survival.

“Indra!”

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I turned slightly to see Musa rushing toward me, his slippers splashing through the shallow water like he didn’t care. He always moved like that, fast, careless, alive.

“You’re still here?” he asked, slightly out of breath. “I thought you left already.”

“I was about to,” I muttered.

He studied me for a second, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been ‘about to’ for the last twenty minutes.”

I didn’t respond.

Musa sighed and shook his head. “You think too much, my guy. That’s your problem.”

Maybe he was right.

Or maybe thinking was the only thing keeping me from completely losing myself.

I didn’t remember much about where I came from.

Just fragments.

A woman’s voice I can’t fully hear.

A blurry image of a small room.

And then… nothing.

They told me I was found after an accident years ago. No ID. No family. No one came looking.

So I stopped looking too.

You learn quickly when you’re alone like that, no one is coming to save you.

You build yourself or you break.

I chose to build… or at least, I tried.

Now I work in a mechanic workshop, fixing things that aren’t mine, earning just enough to survive another day. It’s not a dream. It’s not even a plan.

It’s just… life.

“Come with me,” Musa suddenly said.

I frowned. “Where?”

He glanced around, lowering his voice slightly. “There’s something going on tonight. A small job.”

I didn’t like the sound of that already.

“What kind of job?”

“The kind that pays more than what you make here in a week,” he said quickly.

I let out a dry laugh. “That doesn’t say much.”

“I’m serious, Indra.”

Something in his tone made me look at him properly.

He wasn’t joking.

“What is it?” I asked again, slower this time.

Musa hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.

That pause told me everything I needed to know.

“I’m not interested,” I said, turning away.

“Wait”

“I said I’m not interested.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“I don’t need to,” I replied, my voice sharper now. “If you have to whisper about it, it’s already a bad idea.”

The rain grew heavier, drumming against the metal roofs around us.

Musa stepped closer. “You’re struggling, Indra. I see it every day. You think this place will take you anywhere? You think fixing broken engines is your future?”

I clenched my jaw.

“Don’t,” I warned.

But he didn’t stop.

“You deserve more than this. We both do.”

Those words… they hit somewhere deeper than I expected.

Because part of me agreed.

And I hated that.

“What exactly is the job?” I asked quietly.

Musa’s expression changed instantly.

Not relief.

Something closer to victory.

“It’s simple,” he said. “Just moving something from one place to another. No stress. No drama.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I stared at him.

“Then why does it feel like you’re lying?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because you don’t trust easy things.”

Maybe I didn’t.

Or maybe I had learned not tothe Line I Could See. I looked down at my hands.

Grease-stained. Rough. Tired.

This was my life.

And suddenly, it felt… small.

The rain blurred everything around me, turning the world into something distant and unclear.

“What if it goes wrong?” I asked.

“It won’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Musa leaned in slightly. “Nothing ever changes if you keep playing safe.”

Silence fell between us.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Real.

Because deep down… I knew he was right.

But that didn’t make it right.

I should have walked away.

I should have told him no and gone back to my small room, laid on my thin mattress, and slept like every other night.

I should have stayed in the life I understood.

But something in me… shifted.

Maybe it was the exhaustion.

Maybe it was the frustration.

Or maybe it was the quiet voice in my head whispering:

What if this is your way out?

I hated that voice.

But I listened to it anyway.

“…Where do we start?” I asked.

Musa didn’t hide his smile this time.

We moved quickly through the wet streets, the city feeling different at night.

Quieter.

But not safer.

There’s a kind of silence that doesn’t bring peace.

This was that kind.

Streetlights flickered above us as we walked, casting long shadows that stretched and twisted with every step.

I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like any of it.

“Relax,” Musa said, noticing my tension. “You look like someone walking to his own funeral.”

I didn’t respond.

Because somehow… that didn’t feel far from the truth.

We stopped in front of a building I had never noticed before.

Old.

Worn.

Like it had been forgotten on purpose.

Musa knocked twice.

Then once.

Then twice again.

The door creaked open slowly.

A man stood there, his face half-hidden in the darkness.

He looked at me first.

Not Musa.

Me.

Like he was trying to read something I didn’t even understand myself.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“Someone I trust,” Musa replied.

The man didn’t look convinced.

But after a moment, he stepped aside.

“Get in.”

I hesitated at the doorway, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides.

Something about this felt wrong.

Not the kind of wrong you can explain out loud, but the kind that settles deep in your chest and refuses to leave. The kind that whispers quietly, this is where things change.

“Indra,” Musa said, his voice low now, almost impatient. “Are you coming or not?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, I looked past him… into the dimly lit room beyond the door. Shadows moved where they shouldn’t. Voices murmured too low to understand. And for a brief second, Something in me shifted.

A strange, unsettling feeling.

Like I had been here before.

No… not here exactly.

But somewhere like this.

A place where one decision was enough to ruin everything.

My chest tightened.

I should have walked away.

I knew it.

Every instinct in me was screaming to turn back, to leave, to forget Musa and whatever this was.

But I didn’t move.

Because another voice, quieter, more dangerous, whispered something else:

You’ve already come this far.

I swallowed, the weight of that thought settling heavily in my mind.

Then, before I could change it…

I stepped inside.

The door shut behind me with a soft, final click.

And in that moment, without fully understanding why…

I felt like I had just made a mistake I wouldn’t be able to undo.

…but that single step would cost me more than I was prepared to lose.