Title: The Sky Below My Feet By Lakshita Jangid
Mira opened her eyes to a sky beneath her feet.
She was standing on a glassy surface, clear as crystal, with clouds drifting below instead of above. The horizon shimmered in hues she had no name for—like blue had fallen in love with gold and given birth to a thousand colors. In the far distance, floating islands hovered midair, lush with glowing trees and waterfalls cascading into nothingness.
And then it hit her.
This wasn’t Earth.
She dropped to her knees, panic tightening her chest. The last thing she remembered was walking home after her night shift at the hospital—rain, streetlights, her phone buzzing with a call from an unknown number. Then a blinding light. And silence.
Now this.
"Welcome, Mira Das."
She spun around.
Standing behind her was a creature—part human, part starlight. Tall, graceful, with eyes like liquid moonlight.
"You have entered the world of Aetherion," it said. "A realm between time and thought. Only the chosen few arrive here."
"I didn’t choose to come here!" Mira snapped, her voice cracking.
"True," it said calmly. "But sometimes, the world chooses you."
Before she could respond, the ground beneath her feet pulsed gently. Symbols appeared across the glass floor, glowing in sequence. She looked up—the islands were moving, aligning like pieces in a cosmic puzzle.
"What… is this place?" she whispered.
"A test," the being replied. "You are here because your world is about to change. And you must decide if you are ready to lead that change—or return to the silence of ignorance."
Mira’s head spun. "What kind of test?"
"Follow the light. Face your echoes."
Then it vanished.
The glowing path beneath her led toward the nearest island, where a bridge of mist unfurled midair. Mira walked cautiously, gripping her courage tighter than she ever had before.
When she stepped onto the island, the air shimmered—and the landscape changed.
She stood in a hospital room. But not just any room. Her hospital room.
She was watching herself—tired, messy bun, eyes rimmed with exhaustion—as she argued with the head surgeon about prioritizing a homeless patient over a rich donor.
"You’re wasting resources," the doctor had said.
"And you’re wasting lives," her past self had snapped.
The memory ended. A voice echoed through the air: "Do you still believe one life is worth risking your career?"
"Yes," she whispered. "More than ever."
The ground glowed again. Another bridge appeared.
The next island was colder. Darker.
It was her school in Kolkata. The classroom where she'd first stood up to a teacher who mocked another student for being "too poor to dream big." She had been only thirteen.
The scene played out. Her voice, defiant. The punishment that followed.
"Do you regret standing alone?"
Mira swallowed. "No. Because if I didn’t stand then, I wouldn’t know how to stand now."
The island shimmered. A new path opened.
She followed it.
Island after island, memory after memory—each a moment of pain, of choice, of voice.
The time she volunteered during the dengue outbreak.
The day she stood between a violent father and his terrified child.
The moment she chose medicine over marriage, freedom over fear.
Each time, a voice asked her: "Would you do it again?" And each time, her answer was yes.
Finally, she reached the last island.
It was empty. Silent. But at the center stood a mirror.
She walked toward it—and gasped.
The reflection wasn’t her.
Not exactly.
It was… stronger. Bolder. Wearing armor woven from threads of light and shadow. Her scars were glowing like medals. Her eyes, fierce.
This was her—if she became the leader, the healer, the voice she was always meant to be.
Suddenly, a storm rose around her. The skies turned red. A voice thundered:
"The world you left behind is crumbling. Corruption. Fear. Division. If you return, you must change it. But to lead is to lose. Comfort. Peace. Sometimes, even love. Do you still choose to go back?"
Mira stared at the reflection. Then closed her eyes.
"I didn’t become a doctor to be comfortable. I became one to make a difference. If I have the power to change even one life… then yes. I choose to go back."
The mirror shattered.
The storm calmed.
And the sky beneath her turned gold.
Mira opened her eyes.
She was lying on the street. Rain falling. Her phone ringing beside her.
The unknown number again.
She answered it.
"Dr. Das? We need you at City Hospital immediately. There’s been an explosion downtown. We’re short-staffed."
She stood, soaked and shivering.
But her heart—her heart was on fire.
"I’m on my way."
As she ran, the world around her looked the same—but she wasn’t.
She had faced her echoes. She had chosen her path.
And now, it was time to walk it.
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