“Look at this,” one of the thugs laughed. “I think that accident scrambled her brain. Otherwise, she wouldn't mess with us.”

  “Leave him,” Nalini said, her voice devoid of emotion.

  The leader scoffed and shoved Aadhi hard, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Nalini walked over, kneeling beside him. As she checked his arm, she leaned close to his ear, her voice a barely audible whisper. “Shout in pain. Hold your leg.”

  Aadhi blinked, confused, but the intensity in her green eyes compelled him. “Ow! Ah… it’s paining! My leg!” he cried out, clutching his shin.

  Nalini stood up and looked at the thugs, her voice now loud and accusatory. “What happened? Can you stand, Aadhi?” She whispered again, “Say no.”

  “No… I can't,” Aadhi groaned.

  The bullies shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other. “Hey… sorry. Is he really okay?”

  “No, he is not!” Nalini shouted. “You’ve injured his leg! Now, give him medical compensation for his treatment!”

  “That's not true!” the leader argued, waving his hands. “We just pushed him lightly. He's acting!”

  Nalini stepped closer, her gaze unnervingly steady. “What makes you believe he is acting?”

  “He should at least have bleeding or a visible injury!” the guy retorted.

  “Then what does your brother have?” Nalini pointed to the younger boy, a fellow school student in the back, who was leaning heavily on a wooden stick, feigning a limp.

  “He has an inner injury!” the leader repeated.

  “Alright,” Nalini said, a terrifyingly thin smile touching her lips. “Let us assume he is injured in his inner body. Now… heh… let me show you some magic.”

  The “injured” brother watched closely as Nalini stepped toward him. “Look into my eyes carefully,” she commanded.

  The boy stared, mesmerized by the glowing green. Suddenly, Nalini reached up with her thumb and forefinger. With a sickening pop, she plucked her right eyeball directly out of its socket and held it toward the boy’s face.

  “You want it?” she hissed.

  The boy’s scream was blood-curdling. He dropped his stick, turned on his heel, and sprinted away with the speed of an Olympic athlete—his “broken” knee miraculously healed by pure terror.

  Nalini quickly popped the eye back in and blinked, the mechanism clicking back into place before the rest of the gang could process what they had seen. His brother and the rest of the gang stood frozen, unaware of exactly why the boy had fled, but sensing something fundamentally wrong.

  Nalini started laughing—a cold, hollow sound. “I think he forgot the injury and ran away,” she told them.

  The leader stared at her, his face pale. “This won't end here,” he managed to stammer before the group retreated into the shadows.

  Nalini reached down and lifted Aadhi up. “Don't let those punks come near you again,” she said.

  Aadhi, overwhelmed by the adrenaline and the rescue, didn't think. He simply threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Nalini. Thank you.”

  Nalini froze. For the first time in her existence, the Goblin's biological rhythm went haywire. Her heartbeat raced, hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her mind voice spiraled into a panic she had never been programmed to handle.

  What… why is this human doing this? Why can't I push him away? Why can't I speak?

  She stood paralyzed in the embrace of a twelve-year-old boy. Wait… is this what Rakhi warned me about? Is this called…"

  The scene shifts to the school canteen, where Aadhi and Nalini sit across from each other at a weathered wooden table. They are sharing a bar of chocolate, a small moment of peace after the chaos with the bullies.

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  "So," Nalini asks, her voice strangely flat, "what is the actual problem between you and that gang?"

  Aadhi looks at her, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "You mean Subhash? He’s always been like this. He fights with me because my father has money and he doesn't. Yesterday, as I was leaving, he intentionally tripped me. He fell, but put the whole blame on me. Since I’m physically weak, I can’t exactly stand up to him and his brother’s group."

  "Stupid," Nalini remarks.

  Aadhi sighs. "Yeah, he really is."

  "I’m not talking about him," Nalini counters, her green eyes piercing. "I’m talking about you. If someone uses their brain to cheat you, you must use your brain to fight back."

  Aadhi pauses, nodding slowly. "That’s... actually true. But Nalini, you're acting like a totally different person since the accident. You've known Subhash for years; he's in our class."

  A bead of sweat rolls down Nalini's temple. She forces a hollow laugh. "Is that so? Oh... it must be the head injury. I’ve forgotten so many things from the past." She quickly shifts the topic. "So, what do you think about your new Kartha—the one in the suit?"

  "I don't know," Aadhi says. "My classmates say he’s a mystery. He hasn't revealed himself to anyone."

  The sharp blast of a car horn echoes from the gates. "That’s my father," Aadhi says, standing up. "I have to go. See you tomorrow."Once Aadhi is gone, Raksha (as Nalini) exhales a deep, shaky breath. She returns to the dilapidated house on the outskirts of the village to report to her brother, Rakhi.

  "The Kartha is incredibly cautious," Raksha explains. "He hides his identity from the humans just as much as he does from our kind."

  "That is dangerous," Rakhi muses. "We will investigate only during the day. At night, the risk of exposure is too high. Our first step is to possess a human who has seen the Kartha in his mask. We will bridge their neurons and extract the image of his face."

  Rakhi looks at his sister. "Have you checked the girl's memories yet?"

  "I am trying," Raksha admits. "But they are mixed up because of the accident."

  "Memories always collide after trauma," Rakhi explains. "You must navigate the entire set. Once you find a stable anchor, your neural nerves must connect and extract it from the host's brain."

  That night, Raksha plunges her consciousness into the remnants of Nalini’s mind. A chaotic storm of images swirls around her, but they are all anchored by one person: Aadhi.

  Curious, Raksha begins to explore. She sees years of shared secrets. She sees a memory of Nalini showing Aadhi the jagged scars on her back—cruel marks left by Navya, the orphanage incharge. Then, she finds a pulsing, vivid memory of Nalini counting her meager savings to buy a gift for Aadhi's birthday.

  The memory ends abruptly with the screech of tires and the smell of burning rubber.

  Raksha opens her eyes in the real world. She reaches into Nalini’s old school bag and pulls out a small, crumpled package. Inside, wrapped in faded paper, is the gift Nalini died trying to deliver - a Rs.100 pygmy wrist watch.

  Looking at the gift, Raksha felt a sharp flicker of disdain. To a creature of the Underworld, human sentiment was a pathetic flaw. She turned the cheap, pygmy watch over in her hands, judging the girl whose skin she wore. How could a boy who lives in a mansion and wears a costly branded watch care for a imitation like this? She moved to throw the watch out the window, but her hand froze mid-air.

  The "rooting" had done its work. The girl’s final, dying wish pulsed through Raksha’s nervous system like an electrical echo. She couldn't throw it away; the host's lingering willpower was too strong. Instead, she sat at the wooden table, her long, nimble fingers moving with the mechanical precision of a goblin as she repaired the shattered casing and synchronized the fallen needles.

  The next day at school, she approached Aadhi, holding the small package out to him. "Happy belated birthday," she said, her voice softer than she had intended.

  Aadhi’s face lit up with genuine, radiant surprise. He carefully unwrapped the paper, his eyes softening as he looked at the pygmy watch. "It’s nice. Thanks, Nalini," he said, his voice thick with sincerity.

  Raksha felt a sudden surge of self-consciousness—a complex human trait she hadn't yet mastered. "It’s just a pygmy watch," she blurted out defensively. "If you don’t want it, you don’t have to wear it. It’s cheap compared to..."

  Before she could finish, Aadhi unbuckled his expensive Titan watch—the precious gift from his mother—and tucked it into his bag. He slid the cheap watch onto his wrist and pulled the strap tight.

  "What are you doing?" Raksha asked, stunned by the irrationality of the act.

  Aadhi reached out and took her hand, placing his mother’s costly timepiece into her palm. "I’ll wear your watch as long as you wear mine," he said firmly.

  Raksha stared at the luxury watch, its weight heavy in her hand. "But your mother gave you this. What will you tell her?"

  Aadhi’s smile turned bittersweet. "It’s not a problem. She gave it to me on my eighth birthday, and... well, she passed away back then."

  "This isn't fair," Raksha whispered, her bright green eyes shimmering with a confusion that wasn't part of her mission. "You’re giving me something precious for a cheap piece of glass. Why?"

  Aadhi leaned in, his gaze locking onto hers with a purity that seemed to burn through her layers of deception. "Nothing is cheap when it is presented with love. My mother always told me that."

  At those words, Raksha’s double-thump heart felt as if it were being crushed by an invisible hand. A sharp, stinging pain of guilt radiated through her chest—a side effect of the "neural rooting" she hadn't anticipated. She wasn't just mimicking Nalini’s body anymore; she was starting to process the world through Nalini’s broken, loving heart.

  Raksha (in Nalini's disguise) smiled back—a real, unforced smile that reached her eyes—and offered her hand as a sign of their bond. "Friends?"

  "Always," Aadhi replied, shaking it.

  As the days bled into weeks, the bond between the human boy and the Goblin girl deepened. They shared lunches, whispered secrets, and long silences that felt more honest than words. Every day Raksha spent with Aadhi was a day she drifted further from her mission. She was supposed to be measuring the depth of the well, but instead, she found herself drowning in it.