Chapter 2: The Girl in the Vision

Chapter 2 introduces Mihika as a mysterious soul-bonded figure and raises the stakes with the prophecy.

That night, the city of Kashi lay draped in silence. The Ganga reflected a silver moon, and the temples stood like ancient guardians, watching the passage of time. Aarav, exhausted from his discovery, lay in his small rented room near the ghats, the manuscript safely locked away in a wooden trunk.

Sleep came reluctantly, but when it did, it dragged him into a world unlike any dream he had ever known.

He stood in a vast hall of stone pillars, their surfaces glowing faintly with symbols—the same ones from the scroll. At the far end, bathed in golden light, stood a girl. Her long hair flowed like black silk, her eyes deep and luminous, as though they held centuries of secrets. She wore garments from another age, woven in crimson and gold, her form both fragile and powerful.

When she looked at him, Aarav felt something inside him stir, something older than his own life. Her gaze wasn’t that of a stranger—it was the gaze of someone who had known him across ages.

She spoke, and though her lips barely moved, her voice echoed in every corner of the hall:

“Aarav… you have found the scroll.”

He froze. “Who are you?”

The girl stepped closer, the anklets on her feet ringing softly, though he could not feel the ground beneath him. She reached out her hand, her fingers just inches from his.

“I am Mihika. You do not know me yet, but you have always known me. Across Yugas, across wars, across lifetimes… our souls are bound.”

Aarav’s heart raced. He wanted to touch her, to hold her hand, but an invisible force kept him just out of reach.

“Why do I see you? Why now?”

Her expression grew sorrowful. “Because time is breaking. The Kalachakra stirs again. And when it spins, everything we love, everything we are, will be tested.”

Suddenly, the hall shook violently. The glowing symbols on the pillars began to distort, melting into streams of light. Mihika’s face flickered, as though she were caught between existence and nothingness.

“Aarav!” she cried. “Find me—before they do! Or we will be lost again!”

Her hand finally touched his—and in that instant, a shock of warmth surged through him, as if the very universe had tied a red thread between them.

Then darkness.

Aarav shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. The city outside was silent, the stars indifferent to his terror. He pressed a hand to his chest, half-expecting to see a thread of light still tied to his skin.

But there was nothing. Only the memory of her eyes, burning into him like a promise.

He whispered into the night, his voice trembling:

“Mihika…”

And though he did not know how, he knew—without a doubt—that she was real.

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