The kaali-peeli taxi sped through the thinning late-night traffic of Mumbai, each streetlight casting fleeting shadows across Kunal's tense face. He sat rigidly in the backseat, Abhishek beside him, both scanning the rearview mirror, watching the reflections of passing bikes, the shadowed doorways along the road. Every car felt like a possible tail. Every flicker of movement—a threat.
The watcher might be gone from his apartment, but the feeling hadn't left. The air was thick with tension, and with it came a single thought:
"अदृश्य शत्रु।"
(Adrishya shatru.)
[An unseen enemy.]
"Relax थोड़ा, भाई,"
(Relax thoda, bhai,)
[Relax a bit, brother,] Abhishek muttered, though his own eyes kept darting around. "Almost there."
Abhishek's apartment building in Versova was newer than Kunal's, with a security guard—dozing, but present—and solid locks on the main door. Inside, his place was a typical bachelor pad: functional, slightly messy, but safe.
The first thing Abhishek did was double-lock the door and yank the curtains tight.
"ठीक है,"
(Theek hai,)
[Okay,] he said. "Safe for now. Let Ananya know we reached."
Kunal sent a coded text to Ananya. Relief swept through him—briefly. It vanished the moment he looked around. This wasn't home. This was hiding.
Abhishek was already in motion, pulling out his laptop and connecting Kunal's phone.
"Let's see what Big Brother left behind. You need a burner phone, yaar. Starting tomorrow. This one's compromised until proven otherwise."
While Abhishek worked, Kunal paced the small living room. He felt like a prisoner again—not in stone walls, like the flashbacks—but in fear, in silence. He paused, staring out the curtained window.
"What's the point of remembering," he muttered, "if it only brings danger?"
"यह नियति? बस शिकार बनने के लिए?"
(Yah niyati? Bas shikaar banne ke liye?)
[This destiny? Just to become prey?]
"Anything?" he asked.
Abhishek frowned at the screen. "Standard scan looks clean. No obvious spyware, but that doesn't mean much. Could be high-end. And that car outside? That wasn't amateur hour."
He unplugged the phone. "Wipe it clean tomorrow. New SIM. Burner device. Basic precautions."
He leaned back. "तो अब क्या? बस छुपे रहें और उनका अगला मूव इंतजार करें?"
(To ab kya? Bas chhupe rahein aur unka agla move intezaar karein?)
[So now what? Just hide and wait for them to make the next move?]
As if on cue, Kunal's (potentially compromised) phone buzzed. A secure message—from Ananya.
He opened it immediately.
> Ananya: "Found something potentially huge. Obscure commentaries on Mauryan succession & espionage. Mentions a covert group called the Guptacharas—linked to spies and secret keepers. The texts suggest they manipulated events long after Ashoka. Could this be the lineage behind the shadow council? Tracing if the name evolved or splintered..."
Kunal read aloud:
"गुप्तचार... Secret keepers?"
(Guptachār... Secret keepers?)
It sent a chill down his spine. An underground society, born in the Mauryan Empire, operating in silence across centuries?
Abhishek let out a low whistle. "भाई... यह तो बहुत गहरा जा रहा है।"
(Bhai... yeh to bahut gehra ja raha hai.)
[Brother… this goes way deeper than we thought.]
Then—another jolt.
The burner phone, which Abhishek had just activated and handed to Kunal, started ringing. Its high-pitched tone shattered the tension-filled quiet.
Kunal and Abhishek froze.
No one should have that number.
Kunal answered. He put it on speaker.
Silence for a second. Then—a voice.
Distorted. Robotic. Untraceable.
"Kunal Shukla."
Just his name. Cold. Direct.
"कमलनेत्र प्रत्यागच्छति। यत्र शिवः नृत्यति नित्यं, तत्र उत्तरम् अस्ति।"
(Kamalanetra pratyāgacchati. Yatra Śivaḥ nṛtyati nityaṁ, tatra uttaram asti.)
[The Lotus-Eyed returns. Where Shiva dances eternal, there lies the answer.]
The line crackled.
"Elephanta Caves. Tomorrow. Midnight. Come alone."
Click.
The call ended.
Kunal's hand trembled slightly as he lowered the phone.
Kamalanetra.
The term from the text. From his visions. From another life.
The air in the room grew heavier.
Abhishek broke the silence.
"Elephanta?"
He frowned. "Bohot risky hai, भाई.
(Bohot risky hai, bhai.)
[This is very risky, brother.]
"Was that the council? The watchers? Or someone new?"
Kunal didn't answer. He was still staring at the phone.
A message from Ananya came next:
> "Elephanta? Shiva's shrine? Fits symbolically… but feels like a trap. Don't go alone! But… if there are answers—क्या करें?"
(Kya karein?)
[What do we do?]
The question hung like smoke.
Go—or don't. Find the truth—or risk never knowing. Walk into the lion's mouth—or keep running.
Kunal looked out into the night, a city unaware of the ancient shadows reawakening in its midst.
"They've pulled me in," he said finally. "I'm already part of this."
Abhishek placed a hand on his shoulder.
"चल। जो भी करना है, अगला कदम सोच समझकर उठाना पड़ेगा।"
(Chal. Jo bhi karna hai, agla kadam soch samajhkar uthana padega.)
[Let's go. Whatever we do next… we do it smart.]
---
To be continued...