Vihan’s world had turned to static.

  The words echoed in his mind, unraveling everything he thought he knew.

  "The prophecy doesn’t just speak of Kalki’s return… it chooses him."

  The Council hadn’t been chasing an idea. They hadn’t been searching for a book.

  They had been searching for him.

  Zara was saying something, her grip tight on his wrist, trying to pull him back. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

  The man in the suit watched him, studying his reaction like a scientist observing an experiment. “Now you understand,” he said softly. “Why your mother ran. Why the book always found its way back to you.”

  Vihan forced himself to speak, though his voice felt like it didn’t belong to him. “That’s impossible.”

  The man’s smile widened. “Is it?”

  Vihan shook his head violently. “I’m just—” His breath hitched. “I’m no one.”

  “Are you?”

  The question sent a chill down his spine.

  Memories flickered in his mind—visions that had haunted him since childhood.

  The burning cities. The sky split open with fire. The voice calling his name.

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  He had never understood them. Had always dismissed them as hallucinations, as tricks of the mind.

  But what if they weren’t?

  What if they were fragments of something real?

  Zara snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Vihan! Whatever mind-trip you’re on, get out of it! We need to go!”

  Asha took a slow step forward, her face pale. “What if they’re telling the truth?”

  Zara whipped around. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  Asha’s throat bobbed. “Think about it. His visions. His connection to the book. What if—what if this is real?”

  Zara groaned. “Okay, let’s assume for a second that this insane theory is real. Then what? The Council just gets to keep him locked in some lab while they rewrite history?”

  The man in the suit chuckled. “We don’t want to lock him away, Zara. We want to protect him.”

  “Yeah?” Zara scoffed. “You’ve got a real funny way of showing it.”

  The man’s expression darkened. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

  Vihan finally found his voice. “Then make me understand.”

  The man exhaled. “The prophecy isn’t just a warning—it’s a blueprint.”

  He gestured toward the Bhagavad Gita still clutched in Vihan’s hands.

  “That book doesn’t just predict Kalki’s arrival.” His gaze sharpened. “It tells us how to awaken him.”

  A cold shiver ran through Vihan.

  “Awaken?” he repeated.

  The man nodded. “You are not yet what you are meant to become. But with time, with guidance, you can fulfill your role.”

  Zara crossed her arms. “And let me guess—you get to decide how that happens?”

  The man didn’t deny it. “We want to ensure that when Kalki rises, he does so in control.”

  Vihan clenched his fists. “And if I refuse?”

  The man’s eyes darkened. “Then the world burns.”

  Silence.

  Asha whispered, “The prophecy said that Kalki would bring fire.”

  The man nodded. “Without balance, without control, the final age will collapse into war and ruin. And you, Vihan… you are the key.”

  Vihan’s chest was tight, his breath shallow. He wanted to run. He wanted to deny everything.

  But deep down, something in him knew.

  Knew that the moment he had touched the Bhagavad Gita, something had changed.

  That this was bigger than him.

  And that no matter what choice he made…

  The world would never be the same again.