38 parts Ongoing The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old secrets as Aranya Mehra stepped into the ruins of a forgotten temple, hidden deep within the Vindhya mountains. The sun was setting .
It was Shivratri evening, and the world outside this forgotten place was preparing for its annual rituals.
Aranya's heart raced with excitement. She had spent years studying ancient texts and forgotten histories .As she ventured deeper into the sanctum, there, standing in the center of the room, was a massive mirror. Its frame was adorned with intricate designs of vines and blooming lotuses, shimmering faintly in the dim light. The mirror was unlike any she had ever seen.
Aranya frowned, her archaeologist's instincts stirring.
Without thinking, she pressed her palm against the glass. The moment she touched it, the world around her shifted.
A strange pull gripped her, and before she could step back, the world spun.The spinning stopped abruptly, and Aranya opened her eyes.
She gasped. She was no longer in the temple.
The world around her was breathtakingly beautiful, yet somehow wrong.
In the distance, a city rose .
But something was wrong. As Aranya watched, she noticed an eerie pattern. The same woman fetched water from the well every few minutes, her movements identical to the last time. The same child chased a kite, laughing as if it were the first time,m . The priests chanted the same verses, their voices rising and falling in an unbroken rhythm.
Her heart began to race as the realization hit her. This kingdom-this world-was trapped in a loop, living the same day over and over again. It was as if time had forgotten them, or perhaps they had forgotten time.
she turned toward the city, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a figure standing at the edge of a grand courtyard.
But it was his eyes that held her captive.
He wasn't trapped in the loop. He was aware .
"Hail to our king, Rudraksha Veeraditya," She heard.
