12:32 PM – Unknown Subterranean Facility
Amar's eyes adjusted slowly to the harsh, flickering light above him. Every inch of his body hurt—from the whiplash of crashing into the sea to being dragged into whatever weird James Bond villain lair this was.
And standing in front of him was his face.
Same jawline. Same messy hair. Same voice when the guy spoke, "Long way from Andheri station, huh?"
Amar stared, stunned. "You… look like me."
The Doppelgänger smirked. "Correction: You look like me. I've been here longer."
Amar scowled. "What is this? A clone? Evil twin? Skrull cosplay?"
The Doppelgänger ignored the sarcasm and walked over to a sleek terminal. With a swipe of his hand, a holographic map of Earth projected between them—except... it wasn't the Earth Amar knew.
There were three moons, a shattered Eurasian landmass, and labels in languages Amar couldn't even guess at.
The Doppelgänger tapped the air, and the projection zoomed out.
Beyond Earth, the solar system was crowded with strange anomalies—black cracks in space. Moving. Pulsing. Expanding.
"Recognize this?" the doppelgänger asked.
"No," Amar admitted. "But I know a cosmic horror foreshadowing dump when I see one."
The Doppelgänger's smirk vanished.
"They're rifts. Tears between universes. Your arrival? It wasn't random. Something is pulling versions of people across realities."
He stepped closer, his voice grim. "That thing you met—the glowing entity? It didn't bring you here for fun. It dumped you into the frontlines of a war you don't understand yet."
Amar's throat went dry.
"What war?"
The Doppelgänger tapped again. The map warped and morphed into a timeline—fractured, splintered, pulsing with red error signs.
"Reality is unraveling," the Doppelgänger said. "We're being invaded."
12:40 PM – Sharma Industries HQ – Emergency Situation Room
Back at Sharma Industries, Arjun Sharma was livid.
His lab was in ruins. His prototype was gone. And Amar Khurana had just escaped in his most dangerous suit, then disappeared into the Arabian Sea.
"Track him," Arjun barked.
"We lost signal. But sir..." the technician hesitated. "The suit's last telemetry... it showed a signal match."
Arjun narrowed his eyes. "A match with what?"
"With... you."
He paused, stunned. Then turned slowly toward the holographic feed flickering on the big screen.
Two Amar Khuranas.
One unconscious. One active. One obviously not supposed to exist.
"Activate Protocol RAVANA," Arjun said coldly. "It's a multiversal incident."
12:55 PM – Underground – The Truth Comes Crashing Down
The Doppelgänger sat on a steel bench while Amar, still restrained, tried to process everything.
"You're saying this world... isn't mine," Amar said. "But also not yours?"
"Nope," the Doppelgänger replied. "We're all migrants now. Different Earths. Different fates. One problem—this universe is dying."
He tapped a button, and an image appeared: a massive structure floating in space, built around a swirling core of unstable energy.
"The Gatekeeper Core."
"What is it?" Amar asked.
"The thing tearing holes in reality. Someone—or something—is using it to pull powerful variants from across universes. Heroes. Villains. Armies. They want to conquer every version of Earth they can access. And Bharat—this Bharat—is one of the first targets."
Amar shook his head. "Why not go to America or Russia or—?"
"They already fell."
Silence.
"What?"
The Doppelgänger stood. "This India is the last stronghold. That's why I'm here. That's why... you were brought here too. Your soul, your luck, your timeline—it's anchored to this Earth for a reason."
"And what reason is that?" Amar asked.
The Doppelgänger leaned in.
"To kill me."
1:05 PM – Meanwhile, Somewhere Far Above Earth
High above the stratosphere, aboard a derelict Stark-class satellite, something stirred.
A figure stepped forward in the shadows. Wrapped in purple and gold robes, his skin shimmered with cosmic static. His face wore a twisted crown of stars.
He raised one hand—and a dozen portals opened around him, each showing a different Earth.
Some thriving. Some burning. Some silent and cold.
"The migration has begun," he said, voice echoing like thunder wrapped in silk.
"Bring me the Khurana Variants."