31-08-2025, 12:13 PM
Part 5 – The Vanishing
The auditorium was alive with applause, thunderous, relentless, echoing off the velvet-dbangd walls. Cameras clicked in rapid succession, their flashes painting the stage in bursts of white fire. The host shook hands, admirers crowded closer, and all around the podium there was a swirl of celebration.
At the center of it stood Rhea Malhotra, poised and radiant, the emerald silk of her gown catching every shimmer of light. She turned slightly, her diamond cuff flashing like a beacon, as though preparing to retreat gracefully from The Grand Podium.
Instead, she hesitated.
She took three deliberate steps, slow, unhurried, each one echoing faintly against the polished stage floor. Her gaze lifted for a moment, as if she were listening for something beyond the applause.
And then it happened.
The stage lights flickered. A ripple of unease swept the hall.
In the very next instant, the entire podium was swallowed in total blackness.
A gasp tore through the crowd. Someone stifled a scream. For that single breathless heartbeat, the hall seemed to vanish into void—no stage, no stars, no Rhea. Only the sound of a thousand heartbeats and the faint shudder of cameras misfiring into nothingness.
Then... lights came back.
The glare returned almost blinding, pouring back over the stage. Every eye snapped forward. The podium was visible again. The host was there. The veteran actor was there. The crowd pressed forward, confused but relieved
Except her.
Rhea was gone.
One moment she had been framed perfectly in the cameras’ lenses, emerald silk gleaming like liquid fire beneath the spotlight.
The next... emptiness.
No stumble, no graceful slip into the wings. No curtain to vanish behind.
One moment she was the center of the universe.
The next, she was nothing at all.
The applause faltered, dying into an unnatural stillness. The host’s smile froze, wavering at the edges, while the veteran actor turned his head sharply, his frown deepening, searching for her.
A single voice whispered through the hushed auditorium, fragile, uncertain, almost childlike:
“She’s gone…”
The words shivered through the audience like a ripple through still water. For one charged instant, the air itself seemed to hold its breath.
The cameras kept firing anyway, desperate
Their flashes snapping against empty space where Rhea Malhotra had stood just seconds before.
The auditorium was alive with applause, thunderous, relentless, echoing off the velvet-dbangd walls. Cameras clicked in rapid succession, their flashes painting the stage in bursts of white fire. The host shook hands, admirers crowded closer, and all around the podium there was a swirl of celebration.
At the center of it stood Rhea Malhotra, poised and radiant, the emerald silk of her gown catching every shimmer of light. She turned slightly, her diamond cuff flashing like a beacon, as though preparing to retreat gracefully from The Grand Podium.
Instead, she hesitated.
She took three deliberate steps, slow, unhurried, each one echoing faintly against the polished stage floor. Her gaze lifted for a moment, as if she were listening for something beyond the applause.
And then it happened.
The stage lights flickered. A ripple of unease swept the hall.
In the very next instant, the entire podium was swallowed in total blackness.
A gasp tore through the crowd. Someone stifled a scream. For that single breathless heartbeat, the hall seemed to vanish into void—no stage, no stars, no Rhea. Only the sound of a thousand heartbeats and the faint shudder of cameras misfiring into nothingness.
Then... lights came back.
The glare returned almost blinding, pouring back over the stage. Every eye snapped forward. The podium was visible again. The host was there. The veteran actor was there. The crowd pressed forward, confused but relieved
Except her.
Rhea was gone.
One moment she had been framed perfectly in the cameras’ lenses, emerald silk gleaming like liquid fire beneath the spotlight.
The next... emptiness.
No stumble, no graceful slip into the wings. No curtain to vanish behind.
One moment she was the center of the universe.
The next, she was nothing at all.
The applause faltered, dying into an unnatural stillness. The host’s smile froze, wavering at the edges, while the veteran actor turned his head sharply, his frown deepening, searching for her.
A single voice whispered through the hushed auditorium, fragile, uncertain, almost childlike:
“She’s gone…”
The words shivered through the audience like a ripple through still water. For one charged instant, the air itself seemed to hold its breath.
The cameras kept firing anyway, desperate
Their flashes snapping against empty space where Rhea Malhotra had stood just seconds before.
.
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