The first thing Aryaan heard was Ron shouting.
“Someone tell me why the city is bleeding!”
Aryaan opened his eyes.
For several seconds, he could not remember where he was.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, though the soft amber illumination told him he was still inside the ship.
His head felt as though someone had driven a heated rod through the centre of his skull and then forgotten to remove it.
The second thing he heard was Potter.
“Technically, cities don’t bleed.”
Ron shouted back, “Potter, read the room!”
“I am reading the room. There is no blood.”
“That’s because you’re looking at the floor!”
Aryaan tried to sit up.
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
He dropped back.
Someone caught his shoulder.
“Don’t.”
Lane.
Aryaan turned.
Lane was standing beside him, one hand still on his shoulder.
His face looked pale beneath the dim cabin lighting.
Aryaan stared at him.
“What happened?”
Lane didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough to make Aryaan sit up again.
This time the pain was manageable.
He looked around.
They were in the passenger compartment.
The rest of the group had gathered around the viewport.
Outside, Mokshabhumi filled half the sky.
Or what remained visible of it.
The city was still there.
That should have been reassuring.
It wasn’t.
Mokshabhumi’s outer orbital rings were functioning, but portions of the artificial city had gone dark.
The enormous illumination bands that normally ran around its circumference flickered irregularly, creating patches of shadow across the metallic landscape.
Farther inside, several emergency corridors glowed crimson.
Thousands of ships had abandoned their usual flight paths and were crowding the orbital approaches.
Emergency craft were everywhere.
Rescue vessels.
Security cruisers.
Medical shuttles.
Civilian transports attempting to flee the station.
Mokshabhumi looked less like a city and more like a wounded creature desperately trying to remain alive.
Aryaan stared.
“What happened?”
Ron turned.
“You happened.”
Aryaan blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You screamed.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Potter raised a finger.
“For the record, it was less of a scream and more of a highly sophisticated temporal distress response.”
Ron stared at him.
“Bro.”
Potter lowered his finger.
“Fine. You screamed.”
Aryaan looked towards Lane.
Lane gave a small nod.
“You did.”
Aryaan rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t remember.”
“That might be a good thing,” Sia said.
She stood near the viewport.
Aryaan looked at her.
Her expression was unusually serious.
“What happened?”
Sia folded her arms.
“You saw something.”
Aryaan looked at Lane.
Lane said nothing.
That irritated him.
“You both saw it.”
“Yes,” Lane said.
“What?”
Sia looked at Lane.
Lane looked at Aryaan.
Then he said:
“You were standing in the middle of the corridor, and you suddenly collapsed.”
Aryaan frowned.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You were seeing something.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you asking?”
Aryaan stared at him.
Ron whispered to Potter:
“Are they going to fight?”
Potter whispered back:
“Eventually.”
“Should we stop them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Natural selection.”
Ron nodded thoughtfully.
Aryaan heard them.
“Both of you.”
They immediately became interested in the ceiling.
Aryaan looked back at Lane.
“What did I see?”
Lane’s eyes narrowed.
“You tell us.”
Aryaan felt something unpleasant move through his stomach.
He remembered fragments.
A door.
His father.
His mother.
Devdutt.
A younger version of himself.
And a sentence.
If he ever remembers this, the loop has already broken.
He swallowed.
“I saw my parents.”
Nobody moved.
Aryaan continued.
“I saw them before they disappeared.”
Ron stepped closer.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said you saw them.”
“I did.”
“Then what happened?”
“I don’t remember everything.”
Ron stared at him.
“Aryaan.”
“I said I don’t remember.”
Ron stopped.
Something in Aryaan’s voice must have warned him.
Ron nodded.
“Okay.”
Aryaan looked towards Mokshabhumi again.
The city seemed to grow larger as they approached.
His home was somewhere down there.
His parents’ old home.
The place he had spent years refusing to visit because he had convinced himself that it contained nothing useful.
A message from people who had supposedly disappeared had now brought him back to the exact place where their trail had begun.
That could not be coincidence.
Aryaan had learned one important rule during years of investigation.
When too many coincidences aligned, someone was arranging them.
The ship jolted.
Everyone grabbed something.
Ron stumbled into Potter.
Potter caught him.
“Graceful.”
“Shut up.”
The ship’s communication system activated.
INBOUND TRANSMISSION.
Aryaan immediately stood.
“Put it through.”
The screen came alive.
A woman appeared.
She was perhaps in her late forties, though the exact age was difficult to judge.
Her dark hair was tied behind her head, with several silver strands running through it.
Her face was stern without being cold, and her eyes had the unnerving quality of someone who noticed details before others realised there were details worth noticing.
Aryaan knew her.
Everyone in the group did.
“Master Anahita,” Aryaan said.
Her expression softened slightly.
“Aryaan.”
Ron immediately stepped forward.
“Ma’am, we’re alive.”
Anahita stared at him.
“I can see that.”
“Just establishing the good news first.”
“Ron.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Stop talking.”
Ron nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Potter leaned towards Mitchell.
“Impressive.”
Mitchell whispered:
“What?”
“Someone finally found the off switch.”
Anahita’s eyes moved towards Potter.
He straightened.
“Good morning, Master.”
“Potter.”
“Yes?”
“Did you just compare me to an off switch?”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Potter reconsidered.
“Not verbally.”
Ron covered his mouth.
Anahita sighed.
“Some things never change.”
That sentence brought a strange warmth into the cabin.
Because Anahita was not merely an Academy mentor.
She had been one of the adults who had watched these eight children grow into something far more complicated than the Academy had expected.
She had trained Potter’s investigative instincts.
She had taught Bonita how to distinguish tracking from simply following footprints.
She had helped Riyansh understand that body cultivation was not about forcing the body to obey but teaching it to survive what the mind demanded.
She had trained Saiyuki in tactical restraint.
She had pushed Mitchell to understand the difference between inherited racial abilities and mutation.
She had challenged Pointy to control his instincts instead of allowing them to control him.
And she had watched Aryaan, Lane and Ron grow alongside the others, even though their relationship with her had always been slightly different.
Because Anahita was Devdutt’s sister.
And the man standing beside her was her husband.
Dr.
Ishaan.
He had remained silent until now.
He was taller than Anahita, with a lean build and an almost permanently tired expression.
Unlike his wife, he rarely appeared intimidating.
That was misleading.
The first time Potter had tried to deceive him during training, Ishaan had caught the lie before Potter had finished speaking.
The second time, Potter had tried a different approach.
Ishaan had congratulated him on the improvement.
Then explained exactly where the new lie had failed.
Potter had never attempted a third.
Ishaan looked at the group.
“Report.”
Aryaan straightened.
“We encountered an anomaly near Vanta-3.”
Ishaan’s eyes changed.
Only slightly.
But Aryaan noticed.
“So you found it,” Ishaan said.
The cabin became silent.
Aryaan stared.
“You knew?”
Anahita immediately looked at her husband.
Ishaan’s expression remained unchanged.
Aryaan stepped closer to the screen.
“What did you know?”
Anahita intervened.
“Not over an unsecured channel.”
Aryaan frowned.
“Then secure it.”
Anahita hesitated.
That was the first time Aryaan became genuinely concerned.
His mentor was not easily frightened.
Neither was Ishaan.
Yet something about the request had made both of them cautious.
Ishaan looked at the others.
“Where is Devdutt?”
Aryaan stared.
“We don’t know.”
Anahita’s face tightened.
“He isn’t with you?”
“No.”
“Did he contact you?”
“No.”
Ishaan exchanged a look with Anahita.
Aryaan caught it.
There was history in that look.
Not family history.
Something else.
A shared secret.
Aryaan’s voice hardened.
“You knew.”
Anahita looked directly at him.
“Yes.”
The answer hit harder than he expected.
Ron stepped forward.
“Knew what?”
Anahita didn’t answer.
Aryaan looked at her.
“About Vanta-3?”
“Yes.”
“About the chamber?”
“Yes.”
“About the mechanism?”
Anahita hesitated.
“Yes.”
Aryaan’s hands curled into fists.
“And you never told us?”
Anahita’s expression remained steady.
“Would you have listened?”
Aryaan’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Ron looked at Potter.
Potter whispered:
“Here we go.”
Aryaan ignored them.
“Master Anahita, we almost died.”
“I know.”
“You sent us there.”
“I did not.”
“You approved the assignment.”
“I approved an investigation into an unexplained energy signature. I did not send you into the core of a pre-human structure.”
Aryaan froze.
“Pre-human?”
Ishaan looked at Anahita.
She had already said too much.
Aryaan noticed.
Of course he did.
“What do you mean, pre-human?”
Anahita sighed.
“Return to Mokshabhumi.”
“Then you’ll explain?”
“No.”
Aryaan stared.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’ll explain what I can.”
“And what can’t you explain?”
Anahita’s eyes became distant.
“Things your parents didn’t understand either.”
The connection ended.
The cabin remained silent.
Ron looked at Aryaan.
Aryaan didn’t move.
Lane spoke quietly.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“About your parents.”
“Yes.”
Sia looked towards the screen.
“And she didn’t tell us.”
Aryaan turned.
“Not yet.”
Potter folded his arms.
“That sounded ominous.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“It is.”
Mokshabhumi had never looked like this.
The city was usually magnificent from orbit.
Its artificial continents were arranged in broad circular sectors around the central core, connected by massive transit bridges and protected by layered atmospheric shields.
The station had been built over generations, each era adding another layer of engineering until the original asteroid base had become almost unrecognisable.
The people of old Earth had called the place a refuge.
Later generations had called it a city.
The official records called it an interstellar habitat.
The Huaxian archives had a different word.
Svargnagari.
The city of heaven.
But heaven was not supposed to have emergency sirens.
As the ship passed through the outer perimeter, Aryaan saw entire districts operating on backup power.
Traffic control was overloaded.
The orbital defence grid had activated.
Several docking corridors were sealed.
A swarm of security drones moved through the airspace.
Mokshabhumi was afraid.
Aryaan could feel it.
Not literally.
But fear had a pattern.
People rushed differently when they were afraid.
Ships moved differently.
Security personnel stood differently.
Even the city’s artificial lighting had changed.
The station’s systems were compensating for something.
Aryaan stared at the central structure.
His headache returned.
He gripped the railing.
Lane noticed.
“Again?”
Aryaan nodded.
Sia moved towards him.
Lane’s eyes followed her.
Aryaan noticed that too.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he said:
“I’m fine.”
Sia stopped.
Lane looked at him.
Neither believed him.
Ron appeared between them.
“Okay, important question.”
Aryaan sighed.
“What?”
“Are we going to pretend we’re fine until something explodes?”
“Yes.”
Ron nodded.
“Excellent. Glad we’re aligned.”
Potter walked past.
“That’s literally your life philosophy.”
Ron looked offended.
“That’s not true.”
Potter stopped.
“Name one situation where it hasn’t been true.”
Ron opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Bonita walked past him.
“Exactly.”
Ron looked betrayed.
“You too?”
“Especially me.”
The tension broke slightly.
It was not much.
But the group needed it.
They had spent too many hours looking into things that did not make sense.
Sometimes laughter was not an escape from fear.
Sometimes it was how people reminded themselves that fear had not won yet.
Their ship docked in an auxiliary hangar.
The moment the hatch opened, Anahita was waiting.
She was not alone.
Ishaan stood beside her.
Two security officers were behind them.
Aryaan noticed that both were wearing Academy-grade protective equipment.
That was strange.
Anahita normally disliked unnecessary displays of authority.
This time she had brought guards.
Aryaan stepped down the ramp.
Anahita looked at him.
Her expression softened.
Then she noticed his eyes.
“What happened?”
Aryaan shook his head.
“Later.”
Anahita understood the boundary.
She nodded.
Her gaze moved to Lane.
Then Ron.
Then Sia.
Her expression changed slightly when she looked at Sia.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Sia noticed.
“Do we know each other?”
Anahita’s expression became neutral.
“No.”
Sia frowned.
Aryaan saw the exchange.
He filed it away.
Potter descended next.
He walked directly towards Anahita.
“Master.”
She smiled.
“Still alive?”
“Barely.”
“Good.”
Potter stopped.
“That’s a little harsh.”
“You’ve survived worse.”
“Emotionally?”
“Mostly academically.”
Ron laughed.
Potter looked offended.
Anahita hugged him.
Potter immediately stopped complaining.
That was another thing the group knew about Anahita.
She was not affectionate in obvious ways.
She did not praise easily.
She did not coddle.
But she remembered everything.
Potter had once spent three weeks pretending he didn’t care about his failure in a forensic simulation.
Anahita had said nothing.
Three weeks later, she had left a revised simulation on his desk.
No note.
No explanation.
He had understood.
That was how she taught.
Not by telling them what to become.
By leaving them problems they could not stop themselves from solving.
She moved to Bonita next.
“Your tracking report?”
“Submitted.”
“Did you verify the third trail?”
Bonita’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Riyansh bowed.
Anahita nodded towards him.
“Sparring?”
“Later.”
“Why?”
Riyansh glanced at the others.
“Everyone’s exhausted.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Riyansh sighed.
“I’ll train.”
Anahita smiled.
“Good.”
Saiyuki approached.
Anahita’s expression changed again.
There was mutual respect between them that had been built slowly.
“Your blade?”
“Secure.”
“Your breathing?”
“Controlled.”
“Your temper?”
Saiyuki’s mouth twitched.
“Improving.”
Anahita nodded.
“Then perhaps there’s hope.”
Saiyuki bowed.
Mitchell came next.
Anahita studied her carefully.
“Any changes?”
Mitchell understood the question.
“No.”
“Certain?”
“Yes.”
Anahita nodded.
Pointy approached.
He smiled.
Anahita immediately said:
“No.”
Pointy’s smile disappeared.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“That’s profiling.”
“It’s experience.”
Ron laughed.
Pointy looked at him.
“Don’t encourage her.”
Ron laughed harder.
For several seconds, it felt almost normal.
Almost.
Then Anahita looked towards Aryaan again.
Her expression changed.
“Come.”
Aryaan knew immediately.
This was no longer a reunion.
It was a briefing.
They were taken to a secure chamber beneath the Academy district.
The room was circular.
There were no windows.
No conventional terminals.
No obvious surveillance equipment.
Ishaan stood in the centre.
Anahita activated the room’s security system.
A translucent field formed around them.
“Now,” she said.
Aryaan folded his arms.
“Tell us.”
Anahita looked at Ishaan.
He nodded.
“Vanta-3 was not an ordinary abandoned station.”
“We know.”
“It was constructed over something far older.”
“The chamber.”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
Anahita hesitated.
“We don’t know.”
Potter immediately said:
“That’s not true.”
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed towards the wall.
“You know something.”
Anahita raised an eyebrow.
“Explain.”
Potter stepped forward.
“You’ve spent years training us to investigate incomplete evidence. When someone says ‘we don’t know,’ there are several possible meanings.”
Ron whispered:
“Potter’s doing the thing.”
Bonita whispered back:
“Let him.”
Potter continued.
“You could genuinely not know. You could know but lack proof. You could know the answer but not understand it. Or you could know the answer and deliberately refuse to disclose it.”
Anahita’s lips curved slightly.
“Which one?”
Potter looked at her.
“Fourth.”
Silence.
Ishaan smiled.
Very faintly.
Potter pointed at him.
“See? He knows.”
Ishaan’s smile disappeared.
Aryaan almost laughed.
Almost.
Anahita folded her arms.
“You’re becoming irritating.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not praise.”
“Still counts.”
Anahita looked at Aryaan.
“Your friend is correct.”
Potter’s expression became triumphant.
Aryaan immediately regretted letting him win.
Anahita continued.
“We know fragments.”
“Tell us the fragments.”
“Vanta-3 predates the earliest surviving records of human interstellar civilisation.”
Sia spoke.
“How old?”
“We don’t know.”
“Older than Gaia?”
Anahita looked at her.
“That depends on what you mean by older.”
Sia frowned.
“That’s evasive.”
“Yes.”
Aryaan stepped forward.
“Tell us what you know about the Orions.”
Anahita’s expression became serious.
“The Orions are not merely a hostile species.”
“We know they consume planetary cores.”
“You know the result. Not the origin.”
Ishaan activated the central display.
A model of a planet appeared.
Its core glowed.
Then a second image appeared.
A planetary lattice.
The energy around it pulsed in repeating patterns.
Ishaan said:
“Every planet has a code.”
Riyansh frowned.
“Like genetic code?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“A pattern governing how matter, energy, life and consciousness interact within the planetary system.”
Bonita leaned forward.
“Nomological force?”
Ishaan looked at her.
“Where did you hear that?”
Bonita shrugged.
“Research.”
Anahita smiled.
“Good.”
Ishaan continued.
“The nomological force is not the code itself. It is the force that maintains the continuity of natural law across time.”
Aryaan felt his stomach tighten.
“The loop.”
Ishaan looked at him.
“Yes.”
The room became quiet.
Aryaan remembered Devdutt’s teachings.
The temporal loop was not simply a sequence of events repeating.
It was a system that made its own repetition feel like linear progression.
A person moved from yesterday to today to tomorrow.
But the universe itself could be folded into a structure where cause and consequence reinforced one another.
A loop that did not feel like a loop.
A straight road built in a circle.
Aryaan whispered:
“Nomological force is what keeps the loop working.”
“Among other things,” Ishaan said.
“And the Orions broke it,”
Anahita answered this time.
“Yes.”
Sia stared at the planetary model.
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
Potter raised his hand.
Anahita looked at him.
“No.”
“I haven’t asked anything.”
“I know what you’re going to ask.”
“That’s actually terrifying.”
Anahita ignored him.
“The Orions discovered that planetary cores contained immense energy. More importantly, they discovered that planetary resonance could be manipulated.”
Ishaan changed the display.
The planet’s core began spinning faster.
“Instead of cultivating themselves by resonating with the planetary code, they developed extraction.”
A second mechanism appeared.
It pierced the planet’s core.
The model began collapsing.
Ron winced.
“That’s… messed up.”
“It became their method of survival,” Anahita said.
Aryaan looked at the model.
“They destroyed their own universe.”
Anahita nodded.
“They consumed worlds faster than their universe could recover.”
“Then they came here.”
“Yes.”
“Through the temporal fracture.”
“Yes.”
Aryaan’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
Anahita looked at him.
“Because their universe was dying.”
Aryaan waited.
She continued.
“And because they discovered that parallel universes contained variations of the same planetary codes.”
The room fell silent.
Aryaan felt cold.
“They aren’t just looking for planetary cores.”
“No.”
“They’re looking for stronger versions.”
Anahita nodded.
“Different universes produce different variations of the same cosmic patterns. Some worlds have developed stronger resonance. Some weaker. Some have evolved in ways that should not technically exist.”
Mitchell’s face tightened.
“Mutations.”
Ishaan looked at her.
“Yes.”
Mitchell went quiet.
Anahita noticed.
She always noticed.
But she did not comment.
Aryaan looked at the planet model.
“Gaia.”
Anahita nodded.
“Gaia is one of the worlds that opposed the Orions.”
“And lost?”
“Not yet.”
Sia spoke.
“They are in dire straits.”
Anahita looked at her.
“Yes.”
Sia’s jaw tightened.
Aryaan noticed again.
“Why?”
Sia looked at him.
“My people know stories.”
“About the Gaians?”
“About the war.”
“What happened?”
Sia looked away.
“My family has its own version.”
Aryaan waited.
She didn’t continue.
He didn’t press.
Not yet.
Anahita changed the display.
A symbol appeared.
The same three lines and circle from Vanta-3.
“This,” she said, “is what concerns us.”
Aryaan stared.
“What is it?”
“We don’t know.”
Potter groaned.
“That’s becoming a brand.”
Anahita ignored him.
“This symbol appears in records associated with the earliest known Orion incursions.”
Aryaan stepped closer.
“And Vanta-3?”
“Same symbol.”
“Mokshabhumi?”
Anahita didn’t answer.
Aryaan’s heart dropped.
“Master.”
Anahita looked at him.
“Your city was not built where it was by accident.”
The words landed heavily.
Ron slowly looked around.
“You’re saying Mokshabhumi was built on something?”
Anahita nodded.
“Or around something.”
Aryaan remembered the message.
MOKSHABHUMI IS THE DOOR.
He felt his headache return.
His vision blurred.
The room shifted.
For one instant, he saw the chamber beneath Vanta-3.
Then he saw Mokshabhumi.
The same structure.
Different scale.
The same circular pattern.
The same energy.
He stumbled.
Lane caught him.
Aryaan gripped his arm.
“It’s here.”
Anahita’s expression changed.
“What?”
“The mechanism.”
Ishaan immediately stepped forward.
“Where?”
Aryaan pointed down.
“Under us.”
Everyone went still.
Potter looked at the floor.
“That’s deeply unpleasant.”
Ron stared.
“Can we move somewhere else?”
“No,” Anahita said.
“Why?”
“Because the entire Academy district is above it.”
Ron looked horrified.
“That’s not helping.”
Aryaan looked at Anahita.
“You knew.”
Anahita did not deny it.
“How long?”
“Since before you were born.”
Aryaan stared.
Ron whispered:
“Okay, that is definitely not normal.”
Anahita continued.
“Your parents discovered evidence of the structure while working on a classified project.”
Aryaan stopped breathing.
“My parents.”
“Yes.”
“What project?”
Anahita looked at Ishaan.
He activated another display.
A list of names appeared.
Most were redacted.
Two were not.
Dr.
Arvind Das.
Dr.
Meera Das.
Aryaan’s parents.
His throat tightened.
He had seen their names countless times.
But seeing them here, inside a secure room beneath Mokshabhumi’s Academy district, felt different.
“Why were they investigating it?”
Anahita looked at him.
“They believed the structure was connected to the temporal anomalies surrounding the Orion incursions.”
Aryaan stared.
“They found the door.”
Anahita nodded.
“What happened?”
Anahita hesitated.
Aryaan stepped forward.
“What happened?”
Her expression softened.
“They disappeared.”
“I know that.”
“No.”
Anahita’s voice was quiet.
“You know they disappeared from your life.”
Aryaan’s heart began pounding.
Anahita continued.
“We don’t know what happened to them afterward.”
Aryaan stared at her.
“But you said—”
“I said they disappeared.”
“You knew they were alive.”
“No.”
“Then why did you say—”
“I said we don’t know what happened to them.”
Aryaan’s anger rose.
“Stop playing with words.”
Anahita did not flinch.
“I am not playing.”
Aryaan’s voice cracked.
“You knew something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Anahita looked at him.
“Your parents were not trying to stop the loop.”
Aryaan froze.
“They were trying to understand why it existed.”
The room seemed to grow colder.
Aryaan whispered:
“And?”
Anahita looked towards the floor.
“And they discovered that the loop was not natural.”
Silence.
Potter stopped smiling.
Bonita’s eyes narrowed.
Riyansh looked at Ishaan.
Sia’s expression became troubled.
Lane stared at Aryaan.
Aryaan barely noticed.
“What does that mean?”
Ishaan answered.
“It means someone created it.”
Aryaan’s heart stopped.
The room seemed to disappear.
His parents.
The loop.
Vanta-3.
Mokshabhumi.
The Orions.
The pieces were moving.
But they were not forming a picture.
They were forming a trap.
The meeting was interrupted by an alarm.
Not the city’s general emergency alarm.
Something deeper.
A low-frequency vibration passed through the room.
Ishaan looked at the security panel.
His expression changed.
Anahita immediately moved towards the door.
“What?”
“The lower levels.”
“Which level?”
Ishaan looked at the readings.
“Below the Academy.”
Aryaan felt the air leave his lungs.
“What happened?”
Ishaan didn’t answer.
The alarm sounded again.
This time, the floor trembled.
Ron looked down.
“Please tell me that was the building.”
Potter looked at him.
“What else could it be?”
Ron stared.
“I don’t know, Potter. That’s why I asked!”
A crack appeared across the floor.
Anahita stepped back.
“Everyone move.”
The crack widened.
Energy leaked through.
Golden light.
The same colour Aryaan had seen in his vision.
The same energy signature as Vanta-3.
Sia stepped forward.
Her pupils changed.
Dracodian instincts.
She stared at the light.
“Something’s waking up.”
Anahita looked at her.
“What?”
Sia’s expression hardened.
“Something old.”
The floor exploded.
Not upward.
Downward.
The entire section beneath them vanished.
Aryaan fell.
He heard Ron scream.
Potter swear.
Bonita shout.
Then Lane grabbed his wrist.
Aryaan’s shoulder nearly tore from its socket.
He looked down.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Lane was holding him with one hand.
His other hand was wrapped around a support beam.
“Aryaan!”
Aryaan looked up.
Lane’s teeth were clenched.
“Give me your other hand.”
Aryaan reached.
Their fingers locked.
Lane pulled.
Aryaan rose.
Then something moved below.
Aryaan froze.
Lane saw his expression.
“What?”
Aryaan looked down.
For one moment, his temporal perception opened.
He saw this place as it had been.
Not centuries ago.
Not thousands of years ago.
Minutes ago.
Then years ago.
Then decades.
The layers overlapped.
A corridor.
A laboratory.
A door.
His father.
His mother.
And Devdutt.
They were standing beneath Mokshabhumi.
Alive.
Arguing.
Aryaan heard his father’s voice.
We cannot leave it here.
Devdutt answered:
You cannot destroy it.
His mother said:
Then we hide it.
Devdutt shook his head.
It isn’t the door you should fear.
Aryaan’s vision shifted.
His mother looked towards him.
Not the adult Aryaan.
The child.
The child was standing at the edge of the chamber.
Watching.
Aryaan’s heart stopped.
His mother said:
He’s already awake.
The vision shattered.
Aryaan screamed.
Lane pulled him upward.
“What did you see?”
Aryaan couldn’t answer.
Because the darkness below had changed.
Something was rising.
A structure emerged from the broken floor.
Not metal.
Not stone.
Something between both.
A circular doorway.
Exactly like Vanta-3.
But this one was enormous.
Symbols appeared across its surface.
The first one glowed.
Then the second.
Then the third.
The door began opening.
Anahita stared.
Ishaan moved beside her.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Aryaan heard him.
He looked at his mentor.
“What wasn’t?”
Anahita’s face had lost its colour.
“The door.”
Aryaan stared.
“You said it was sealed.”
“It was.”
“Then why is it opening?”
Anahita looked at him.
And for the first time since Aryaan had known her, she looked afraid.
“Because it recognised you.”
Aryaan’s blood turned cold.
The door opened another fraction.
A wind rushed through the chamber.
It carried no dust.
No smell.
Only a whisper.
A voice from somewhere beyond.
Aryaan knew it.
He had heard it at Vanta-3.
THE TEMPORAL ONE HAS RETURNED.
Lane tightened his grip.
Ron appeared beside them.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered.
The voice spoke again.
THE THREE BLOODLINES HAVE REUNITED.
Aryaan looked at Lane.
Then Ron.
His cousins.
His brothers.
His family.
The door opened wider.
THE DOOR REMEMBERS.
Aryaan’s temporal perception exploded.
He saw thousands of possible moments.
Mokshabhumi falling.
Gaia burning.
Orion ships crossing universes.
Sia standing before a dying planet.
Devdutt kneeling before a grave.
His parents running through a collapsing corridor.
Lane standing alone.
Ron smiling through blood.
Potter holding the ancient symbol.
And himself— opening the door.
Aryaan snapped back.
He was on his knees.
Lane was beside him.
Sia was shouting something.
Anahita was ordering everyone away.
But Aryaan could hear only one thing.
A child’s voice.
His own.
Coming from behind the door.
Aryaan?
He stopped breathing.
The voice spoke again.
You took long enough.
The door opened.
And a boy stepped out.
He was perhaps ten years old.
Dark hair.
Thin frame.
A familiar face.
Aryaan stared at him.
Ron stared.
Lane went completely still.
The boy looked directly at Aryaan.
Then smiled.
It was his own.
The boy spoke.
“Are you finally going to tell them?”
Aryaan couldn’t move.
Ron whispered:
“No.”
The boy looked towards him.
Ron stepped backwards.
“What?”
The boy smiled.
“You’re still stupid.”
Ron stared.
Aryaan’s heart hammered.
Lane’s hand moved instinctively towards his weapon.
The boy looked at him.
“And you’re still pretending you don’t care.”
Lane froze.
Then the boy looked towards Aryaan.
His smile disappeared.
“You have to hurry.”
Aryaan finally found his voice.
“Who are you?”
The boy’s expression became sad.
“You know who I am.”
Aryaan shook his head.
“No.”
The boy stepped closer.
“You just forgot.”
The door behind him began to close.
Aryaan rushed forward.
“Wait!”
The boy looked back.
Then he whispered:
“Your parents are on the other side.”
The door slammed shut.
Aryaan reached it a second too late.
Silence.
Then the entire chamber shook.
Anahita grabbed Aryaan.
“Move!”
“What?”
“Now!”
“Why?”
Ishaan shouted from across the chamber.
“Because the structure is collapsing!”
Everyone ran.
The group surged through the broken corridor as the ancient chamber began folding into itself.
Stone and metal fell from above.
Security barriers shattered.
Emergency lights flashed.
Ron grabbed Potter.
Potter grabbed Bonita.
Riyansh pulled Mitchell clear of a collapsing support.
Saiyuki moved with precise, almost effortless speed.
Sia flew.
Not fully.
Her wings opened just enough to propel her across the widening gap.
Lane stayed beside Aryaan.
Aryaan stumbled.
Lane caught him.
“Move.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“You saw him.”
Lane didn’t answer.
“You saw the boy.”
“Yes.”
“Who was he?”
Lane’s expression was hard.
“I don’t know.”
Aryaan stared.
Lane looked away.
Aryaan suddenly understood.
“You know something.”
Lane stopped.
Aryaan grabbed his arm.
“Lane.”
Lane turned.
For a moment, something flashed in his eyes.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For Aryaan.
Then he said:
“I remember him.”
Aryaan froze.
“What?”
Lane looked towards the collapsing chamber.
“I’ve seen him before.”
“When?”
Lane’s expression changed.
And for the first time, Aryaan realised that Lane’s silence had never been the absence of answers.
Sometimes it was the presence of too many.
Lane whispered:
“When we were children.”
The ceiling collapsed.
Lane shoved Aryaan forward.
They ran.
They reached the upper corridor seconds before the chamber sealed itself.
The explosion was contained.
The security systems activated.
Emergency doors slammed shut.
The entire Academy district went into lockdown.
Everyone stood breathing heavily.
Ron was covered in dust.
Potter’s hair was full of debris.
Bonita had a cut along her cheek.
Riyansh was bleeding from one arm.
Mitchell’s eyes were glowing faintly.
Saiyuki’s blade was drawn.
Sia’s wings were still partially extended.
Lane stood beside Aryaan.
Aryaan stared at him.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Lane looked back.
“I wasn’t.”
“Why?”
Lane looked away.
Aryaan stepped closer.
“Why?”
Lane’s jaw tightened.
“Because I didn’t know what it meant.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
“I know.”
“You remember that boy.”
“Yes.”
“You remember him from when we were children.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
Lane looked directly at him.
“You didn’t remember.”
Aryaan stared.
“What?”
“You didn’t remember him.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you never mentioned him.”
Aryaan’s anger flared.
“I was a child!”
“So was I.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
Lane’s voice became quieter.
“I thought it was a dream.”
Aryaan stopped.
Lane continued.
“After my parents disappeared, I had nightmares. Ron did too.”
Aryaan’s expression changed.
Lane looked down.
“There was always a room.”
Aryaan’s breath caught.
Lane continued.
“There was a door.”
The same door.
Aryaan felt cold.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lane looked at him.
“Because every time I tried to remember, I got sick.”
Aryaan froze.
Lane’s hand moved towards his temple.
“Headaches. Nosebleeds. Sometimes I couldn’t remember what happened for hours.”
Aryaan stared.
The power.
The temporal perception.
The payback.
It had always been there.
Even before they understood it.
Aryaan’s anger disappeared.
“Lane.”
Lane shook his head.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t angry.”
“You were.”
“I was.”
Lane looked at him.
Aryaan sighed.
“I was angry because I thought you didn’t trust me.”
Lane’s expression changed.
“I trust you.”
Aryaan stared.
Lane looked uncomfortable.
It was almost comical.
Almost.
Then he added:
“Unfortunately.”
Aryaan laughed.
It came out unexpectedly.
Lane’s mouth twitched.
Ron appeared between them.
“Oh good, the emotional reconciliation has started. Can we do that after we figure out why there’s a demon-child under our school?”
Lane looked at him.
“Demon-child?”
Ron shrugged.
“I’m improvising.”
Potter walked over.
“Badly.”
“Thank you.”
Anahita approached.
She looked at the two cousins.
Then at Ron.
Her expression softened.
“You three were never supposed to find that chamber.”
Aryaan looked at her.
“Then why was it there?”
Anahita didn’t answer.
Aryaan’s voice hardened.
“Master.”
Anahita sighed.
“Because your parents hid something there.”
Aryaan froze.
“What?”
“Something the Orions must never find.”
Sia stepped forward.
“What?”
Anahita looked at her.
“A key.”
The word echoed.
Aryaan stared.
“A key to what?”
Anahita looked towards the sealed floor.
“To the original temporal loop.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Potter said:
“Okay.”
Everyone looked at him.
He rubbed his face.
“I have officially decided that I prefer our old problems.”
Ron nodded.
“Same.”
Potter looked at him.
“You thought getting cheated by merchants was a serious problem.”
“It was serious.”
“You once bought a fake anti-gravity belt.”
“It looked legit.”
“It had a rope attached.”
“I thought that was a safety feature.”
Bonita groaned.
For the first time since the chamber opened, someone laughed.
It was small.
Brief.
But real.
Then Aryaan looked at Anahita.
“What did my parents hide?”
Anahita’s expression became grim.
“We don’t know.”
Aryaan narrowed his eyes.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
“You said they hid a key.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know what it is.”
Anahita looked at Ishaan.
He stepped forward.
“We know what the key can do.”
Aryaan waited.
Ishaan continued.
“We don’t know where the key is.”
Aryaan felt his stomach sink.
“Where did my parents take it?”
Anahita answered.
“We believe they took it with them.”
“Where?”
Anahita looked directly at him.
“Beyond the loop.”
Aryaan stared.
The words made no sense.
Then he remembered the voice.
Your parents are on the other side.
He whispered:
“The other side.”
Anahita’s expression changed.
“What did you say?”
Aryaan looked at her.
“The boy.”
Anahita froze.
“What boy?”
Aryaan looked towards Lane.
Lane said nothing.
Aryaan turned back.
“The boy who came through the door.”
Anahita’s face became completely still.
“You saw him?”
“Yes.”
Ishaan’s expression changed.
“Who?”
Aryaan answered:
“He looked like me.”
Anahita stopped breathing.
And that reaction told Aryaan more than any answer could have.
Aryaan stepped towards her.
“You know him.”
Anahita said nothing.
“Master.”
Still nothing.
“Ana—”
“Don’t.”
Her voice was quiet.
Not angry.
Afraid.
Aryaan stopped.
Anahita looked at him.
And whispered:
“That boy should not exist.”
That night, Mokshabhumi remained under lockdown.
Officially, the Academy reported a structural failure caused by an unknown energy fluctuation.
No mention was made of ancient chambers.
No mention was made of temporal loops.
No mention was made of a child who looked like Aryaan.
And certainly no mention was made of the fact that someone had been standing on the other side of a door that should not exist.
The eight were separated.
Anahita insisted.
Aryaan protested.
She ignored him.
The group was sent to temporary quarters under Academy supervision.
Aryaan lay awake.
He couldn’t sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the boy.
The same face.
The same eyes.
The same smile.
His own.
He sat up.
The room was dark.
He looked towards the window.
Mokshabhumi’s artificial night had begun.
Thousands of lights glittered below.
He wondered if his parents had once looked through the same window.
He wondered whether they had known.
Whether they had understood what was beneath the city.
Whether they had known that one day their son would stand above the same door.
A soft sound came from outside.
Aryaan turned.
Lane stood in the doorway.
Aryaan stared.
“Do you ever sleep?”
Lane shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Lane entered.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Aryaan asked:
“Tell me.”
Lane stopped.
“The boy.”
Lane looked towards the window.
“I don’t know who he is.”
“You said you remember him.”
“I remember seeing him.”
“When?”
Lane hesitated.
“Before my parents disappeared.”
Aryaan’s heart tightened.
“Where?”
Lane looked at him.
“In your house.”
Aryaan froze.
“What?”
Lane’s eyes were distant.
“You were there.”
Aryaan stared.
“I don’t remember.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
Lane shook his head.
“I don’t remember everything.”
Aryaan almost smiled.
“You’re using my line now.”
Lane’s mouth twitched.
“It’s a good line.”
Aryaan waited.
Lane finally said:
“There was an argument.”
“Between whom?”
“Your parents.”
“And?”
“Devdutt.”
Aryaan’s expression hardened.
“What were they arguing about?”
Lane looked towards the floor.
“The loop.”
Aryaan swallowed.
“Then what?”
Lane’s voice dropped.
“They were talking about sending someone through.”
“Who?”
Lane looked directly at him.
“You.”
Aryaan stopped breathing.
The room seemed to become impossibly quiet.
“Me?”
Lane nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lane.”
“I don’t know.”
“Why would they send a child through a temporal loop?”
Lane looked away.
“I told you. I don’t remember.”
Aryaan stood.
“Then remember.”
Lane’s eyes hardened.
“You think I haven’t tried?”
The anger in his voice surprised Aryaan.
Lane immediately looked away.
Aryaan softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Lane remained silent.
Aryaan sat again.
After a moment, Lane said:
“I remember your father holding you.”
Aryaan’s throat tightened.
“You were asleep.”
“What else?”
“Your mother was crying.”
Aryaan closed his eyes.
“And Devdutt?”
“Angry.”
“At whom?”
“Your parents.”
“Why?”
Lane’s expression changed.
“He said it would destroy the timeline.”
Aryaan opened his eyes.
Lane continued.
“Your mother said there was no timeline left to protect.”
Aryaan stared.
“Then?”
Lane shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Aryaan waited.
Lane looked at him.
“But I remember your father saying one thing.”
“What?”
Lane’s voice was barely a whisper.
If Aryaan remembers, then we have already failed.
Aryaan’s heart pounded.
He looked towards the window.
The lights of Mokshabhumi glittered below.
A city built around a secret.
A city built over a door.
A city his parents had tried to protect him from.
Aryaan whispered:
“What did they fail to do?”
Lane stared at him.
“I don’t know.”
Aryaan nodded slowly.
Then he smiled without humour.
“Of course.”
Lane looked towards him.
Aryaan stood.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“My parents’ house.”
Lane frowned.
“Anahita told us to stay here.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“Since when have we been good at following instructions?”
Lane considered this.
“Fair.”
They stepped into the corridor.
Neither noticed the shadow at the far end.
Neither noticed the tiny red light watching them.
And neither heard the voice travelling through the Academy’s hidden communication network.
The temporal bloodline has awakened.
A second voice responded.
The spatial bloodline is beginning to remember.
A pause.
Then:
And the third?
Static.
Then:
The third has already chosen.
Far below Mokshabhumi, beneath the Academy, beneath the oldest foundations of the station, something moved.
Not a machine.
Not a creature.
A memory.
The ancient door remained closed.
But the symbols upon it continued glowing.
Three lines.
A circle.
Then a fifth mark appeared.
One that had never been present before.
A human handprint.
Small.
Child-sized.
The same size as the handprint Aryaan had left against his father’s laboratory door when he was ten.
The structure pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a final message appeared.
PHASE ONE COMPLETE.
Another line formed.
THE CHILDREN HAVE FOUND THE DOOR.
A third.
NOW LET THEM FIND THE KEY.
And somewhere, impossibly far away, beyond the known boundaries of human space, something answered.
A ship.
Ancient.
Silent.
Its hull carried no insignia.
Except one.
The symbol of the Orion.
Inside it, a figure opened its eyes.
Golden light filled the darkness.
The figure looked towards a projection of Mokshabhumi.
Then towards another image.
Aryaan.
Lane.
Ron.
The figure smiled.
Not with hunger.
With recognition.
“Finally,” it whispered.
The screen changed.
A fourth image appeared.
A woman.
Aryaan’s mother.
Alive.
The Orion looked at her.
Then at the three cousins.
And said:
“Let’s see whether the sons can finish what their parents started.”
The screen went dark.
The ship turned.
And began moving towards Svargnagari.