So let's start with story...
Srivastava house.
The morning sun at the mansion was bright, but it couldn't quite fill the empty corners left by the parents they had all lost. For them this house wasn't just a building; it was a fortress where they protected one another from the world. Today was a rare holiday from the grueling schedule of their works, and the air was thick with the need for a distraction. They had always been drawn to the past perhaps because their own futures felt so uncertain and the local museum was calling to them.
Abhishek: Guys, come fast! We are getting late! (He paced near the grand mahogany door, tapping his watch with a playful but impatient frown.)
Siddharth: Bhai, wait! Just one last minute. (He was standing before the gilded hallway mirror, meticulously arranging his hair, ensuring not a single strand was out of place.)
Sachi: Your "one minute" is never going to end, Sid. We have to go today itself, not when the sun sets! (She leaned against the railing, her arms crossed, watching him with an amused smirk.)
Siddharth rolled his eyes, catching her reflection in the glass. He took one last, long look at himself, satisfied that he looked every bit the hero of his own story, and finally descended the stairs.
Abhishek: All came? Can we go now? (He looked at each of his friends, his eyes lingering on them with a protective warmth.)
Everyone nodded, their excitement finally bubbling over. They piled into the car, a familiar comfort in their shared space. Siddharth took the driver’s seat, his hands steady on the wheel. Within a few minutes, the modern city blurred past them as they reached their destiny: the city’s grandest museum of antiquities.
The museum was a labyrinth of cold marble floors and high, echoing ceilings. It smelled of ancient dust and forgotten secrets. They wandered past exhibits of rusted Harappan pottery and sharp Maurya-era swords, but as they moved deeper into the North Wing, a strange sensation began to settle over them—a heavy, static charge in the air that made the hair on their arms stand up.
In the center of a circular, dimly lit hall sat a massive contraption. It looked like a collision between a clock and a star. It was a tangle of copper coils, brass gears that looked like teeth, and giant glass cylinders filled with a swirling, mercury-like liquid.
Sachi: What is this, sir? (She asked a guard who stood nearby, his uniform looking a bit too large for his thin frame.)
Guard: Mam, this is a Time Machine. A brilliant but mad scientist spent his entire life and fortune inventing this. But due to some mistake in the calculations, it never worked. It has sat here for thirty years as nothing but a curiosity.
The friends nodded, but they couldn't look away. There was an undeniable attraction a magnetic pull that felt less like physics and more like a heartbeat. They moved on to see the rest of the gallery, but their feet seemed to lead them back to that same hall.
When they returned, the room was earily silent. The guard was gone. The velvet ropes that cordoned off the exhibit had been unhooked, swaying slightly as if moved by a ghostly hand. Driven by a collective impulse they couldn't explain, they climbed onto the cold, metallic platform and stepped inside the glass-and-copper core.
Suddenly, the machine didn't just turn on; it screamed. A low, guttural hum shook the very foundation of the museum. A bright, blinding golden light erupted from the floor, swirling around them like a solar flare. The gravity disappeared.
Abhishek: Everyone, hold hands! (He shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the roar of the light.)
The light grew so intense that the world became a white void. They felt a terrifying sensation of being stretched across the stars, and then, everything went blank.
While the modern world was left behind, another world was waiting.
In the Dwapar Yug, where the mountains were made of emerald and the rivers ran with water as clear as diamonds, the air was different. It carried the scent of Parijat flowers and the distant sound of a flute that seemed to play the melody of the universe itself.
On a high balcony of a palace carved from white stone, a man stood looking toward the horizon. He wore silks the color of the sunset, and his eyes held the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes. He watched as a ripple appeared in the sky a golden tear in the fabric of reality.
Man: I was waiting for you all. Not only me, but many others have been waiting for your arrival.
He smiled, a gentle, knowing curve of his lips. He knew these souls. He knew the pain they carried and the greatness they were destined for.
Man: Here, in the land of Dharma, you will finally find your real identity. The masks of the modern world will fall, and the warriors within will rise.
It's quite very short start I know but little begin in short..
Enjoy reading
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