The air inside the chamber had shifted.
Kunal was still on one knee, his breath ragged, the smell of sandalwood still on his smell, the faint glow fading from his forehead. Vaibhav crouched next to him, wide-eyed, his flashlight trembling just slightly in his grip.
"Kunal," Vaibhav murmured, "this… this is big, isn't it? Hearing and experiencing is totally different bro. I love it."
"Yeah," Kunal rasped, "bigger than I thought. I am glad you are loving death of me."
But before Kunal could rise, Vaibhav grabbed his arm, anchoring him back.
"Wait. Listen, bro — we need to pull back. We fell in here with no food, no rope, no backup, nothing. If we get stuck deeper… we're screwed. Let's get out. We mark the way, come back tomorrow. At first light."
Kunal clenched his jaw, every instinct in his body pulling him forward — deeper into the unknown, towards the script, the wall, the knowledge — but he forced himself to pause. Vaibhav was right. For all the drive thrumming in his chest, the strategist in him knew: survival came first.
"…Fine," Kunal exhaled. "We get out. But we come back at sunrise."
Vaibhav's grin was pure relief. "Thank you, O cheap Indiana Jones."
---
They circled the chamber carefully, Kunal running his fingers over the stone, photographing the carvings, the strange geometry, the placement of the obsidian. The glowing lines in the stone had gone dormant, but something had changed — the air vibrated differently now, like the silence before the storm.
It took them an hour to find a narrow passage veiled behind a crumbled wall, half-covered in debris. Working together, they threw loose stones aside until they revealed a jagged tunnel angling upwards. Step by painful step, scrape by scrape, they climbed, squeezing through tight gaps, muscles burning — until at last, pale evening light greeted them through a thin rock fissure.
Kunal emerged first, chest heaving, blinking into the fading sun. Vaibhav scrambled after him, collapsing onto the rocky slope.
They sat in stunned silence, looking back at the hidden entrance, their clothes caked with dust, skin scratched — but alive.
---
The walk back to town was quiet.
Neither of them spoke much, the weight of what they'd seen keeping them in their own thoughts. By the time they reached the noisy bazaar, night had fully fallen. They ducked into the guesthouse they'd scouted the day before — not the old lodge, not the first room, but a third hiding spot.
Inside the cramped room, Kunal peeled off his jacket, lowering himself onto the charpoy with a long, slow breath. Vaibhav flopped down beside him, eyes half-lidded.
"Tomorrow, bhai," Vaibhav murmured, "tomorrow we go back."
"Yeah," Kunal whispered, fingers brushing the obsidian fragment in his pocket, feeling its cool, patient pulse against his skin.
Tomorrow. But tonight — Kunal had some calls to make.
---
While looking towards the direction of the ruins Kunal called Ananya. When the call connected, Ananya's voice came sharp and urgent, "Kunal?! How are you? Are you okay? Is everything okay?"
He exhaled shakily, a half-laugh, half-sigh at Ananya's outburst.
"I am safe." Then quickly Vaibhav shouts while still flopped on the charpai, "Bhabhi, I am also safe.
While laughing Kunal continues,
"Yes Vaibhav is also safe. Today again he took my fall. He is the holder of fallen"
Making Vaibhav cuss him and then Kunal starts recounting whole day to her, the strange pull towards a different direction from the ruins, when reaching the location pull becoming stronger, their fall once Kunal picks that obsidian stone from the half buried slab, the flash from the floating disc and the vision and scripts as well as what he got to know about Ārambha in his vision.
Abhishek's voice cut in, "So now you are not even going to ask about me? And you called Ananya. You have changed bro." Kunal shook his head. "I knew you would also be hearing whatever I am talking here through Ananya's phone." The Abhishek continues, "Yeah yeah, you are mr know it right? But I have a question, did you guys make sure that no one is keeping tabs on your activities? Was there any take? Any watcher?"
Kunal: " I don't think so there was anyone tailing us as we have been discreet in our actions."
Ananya's voice softened but sparkled with that familiar thrill of discovery. "Kunal, this isn't just history anymore—this is a living map towards our safe heaven."
Kunal closed his eyes briefly, feeling the weight of it all. "Yeah… and this time, we're not playing on their terms."
---
The next morning, even before the sun has risen. Kunal and Vaibhav are already on their way towards yesterday's ruins.
Kunal's breath came faster, each step heavier as he crossed the field towards the ruins. He had been here before, but today it felt different. Every stone seemed charged with an energy he couldn't explain, as if they were going to throw a surprise party on him with that stored potential.
Vaibhav, ever the skeptic, shot him a sideways glance.
"Bro, this feels… off," Vaibhav muttered. "Why are we doing this now? The place's already creepy during the day. We can't even see shit in the dark. We should atleast wait till the first rays of sun."
Kunal's gaze never left the ruins ahead. He didn't answer at first, the words caught in his throat. Something was drawing him forward, something deep inside him that told him he needed to see this place again. To feel it again. To connect the missing dots of his past.
"We can't delay," Kunal said simply. His voice was low, but his words were firm. His intuition told him this was the right course.
They reached the site as the first traces of dawn kissed the horizon, shadows stretching across the ancient stones. The air felt different here. Intangibly charged. Almost alive. Kunal stepped lightly over the cracked earth, each footfall almost hesitant, like the place was responding to him. Or rather, he was responding to it.
He moved towards the ruins as if guided by some invisible force, Vaibhav trailing behind but staying alert, scanning their surroundings.
Kunal felt the weight of the past on his shoulders again, the creeping sensation that this place had witnessed his life unfold long before this moment.
His fingers grazed the cool, smooth surface of the old stone archway of hidden entrance — the one he'd passed yesterday — now glowing faintly in the predawn light.
Then, something shifted.
The ground beneath his feet seemed to hum, faint at first, and then stronger. The familiar pull in his chest deepened, the instinct telling him to stay still, focus, wait.
It was here. In this very place. His heartbeat matched the rhythm of the low hum, the earth seeming to call him.
---
Flash.
Suddenly, the world around him drifted away.
---
He was no longer standing amidst the ruins of Taxila.
Instead, he stood in a bright and bustling market, the scent of dust and livestock thick in the air. His robes were different, rich silks of a Mauryan viceroy draped over his form. He was older now, in his early twenties, standing tall among the merchants, whose voices rose in anxious murmurs. He could feel it then — the weight of authority, the careful judgment that came with his role. He wasn't a prince in name alone; he was a ruler of this place.
Before him, a merchant spoke, sweat beading on his brow.
"The taxes, Kumāra, it is unbearable. Our businesses cannot bear both the imperial tax and the governor's toll."
Kunal(a) looked at him with the cool steadiness of someone who had dealt with many such issues.
He glanced to the side, where Mantrin Ghoshal, the provincial official, stood. His face flushed as the young prince's eyes bore into him.
"You," Kunal(a)'s voice was calm but firm, an edge of authority running through it. "Is this true, Mantrin Ghoshal? Have you increased the provincial levies without even informing the Samrāṭ?"
The official stammered, his eyes avoiding Kunal(a)'s gaze. Kunal(a) turned back to the merchants, listened closely to both sides, and then passed judgment.
"The imperial levy stands, as decreed by my father, the Samrāṭ. But your provincial tax is unjust, Ghoshal, and it harms this city. It is rescinded."
A quiet ripple of relief ran through the crowd as Kunal(a) continued, "Trade fairly. Pay the Emperor's due, and this administration will protect your livelihood as best we can."
The merchant's faces softened, grateful nods replaced murmurs of discontent. Kunal(a)'s eyes swept the crowd, and he saw something — not fear, but respect.
"Nyāyapriya Kumāra," the crowd murmured — the justice-loving prince.
---
The vision wavered, and suddenly, Kunal was back in the ruins. The familiar warmth of that earned respect still lingering in his chest. He took a breath, realizing something crucial.
He had ruled here. He had been competent, just, and popular. A leader. Not just a son of Ashoka — but a figure of strength in his own right. That realization hit him hard, like a cold wave crashing over him.
---
"So that's why...?" he muttered to himself, pieces clicking into place. The hidden conspirators. The shadow people. They hadn't just wanted him out of the way because he was Ashoka's son. They feared him because he had potential. He wasn't just an heir — he was a threat. His competence, his sense of justice, his ability to lead — these were the very things that made him dangerous to their manipulation. That was why they had to silence him.
---
Back in the present, Vaibhav's voice broke through the fog of Kunal's thoughts.
"Bhai, you good?" He sounded concerned, his footsteps hesitant behind Kunal. "You just… stopped moving."
Kunal blinked, his breath coming faster as he returned to himself, the vision still lingering like a shadow on his mind. He turned to Vaibhav, taking a moment to steady his pulse.
"I'm good," Kunal said, his voice tight but determined. "I need to find the right key for this. There's something in here. But we need to look deeper."
---
Kunal's fingers brushed over the walls, his mind racing. His eyes flicked to the strange geometric carvings, the faint hum in the air, the Ārambha symbol carved into the wall. There was something here. Something hidden.
And then, something clicked.
He moved quickly, sliding the obsidian fragment into the groove in the wall. A low hum resonated. The stone pulsed gently in his hand, vibrating in a way he hadn't felt before.
And then, the carvings on the wall began to glow.
A faint blue light traced a path from Taxila, curving toward a distant node — Patliputra.
Kunal's breath caught in his chest. Patliputra. The Mauryan capital. The heart of the empire. The center of his past. Where everything began.
---
The path was clear now. He had confirmation. The fragment was a key, and it was pointing him straight toward his past, and toward the war that had been waged across generations. He couldn't escape it anymore.
He had to go to Patliputra. And he had to face whatever waited for him there.
While he was thinking about his next steps suddenly a voice echoed in his mind.
"धर्मचक्रस्य रक्षार्थं जातोऽसि पुनरेव च।
यत्र त्वं पतितो भूमौ, तत्रैवोत्तिष्ठसि ध्रुवम्॥
स्वजन्मभूमौ पुनरपि, दिव्यराजन् प्रवर्तसे॥"
"Dharmachakrasya rakṣārthaṃ jāto'si punareva ca,
Yatra tvaṃ patito bhūmau, tatraivotthiṣṭhasi dhruvam;
Svajanmabhūmau punarapi, divyarājan pravartase."
Translation:
"Born for the protection of the wheel of Dharma, again and again;
Where you have fallen to the earth, surely there you shall rise;
In your land of birth, O divine prince, you shall arise once more."
Rooting Kunal in his spot.
---
Kunal snapped back to his senses, taking in the scene around him. The ruins were eerily silent now, pressing down on him from all sides. Like pushing him away.
It was time to move.
He motioned for Vaibhav to follow.
"We've got a long road ahead," Kunal said softly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Patliputra awaits."
---
The walk back to the edge of town was long and silent, the first sunlight brushing the hills as Kunal and Vaibhav kept to the side paths, staying out of sight.
Vaibhav shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at Kunal sideways.
"So, are you going to explain the whole glowing-stone, magical-map, past-life-prince thing," he drawled, "or am I just supposed to roll with it like some Netflix sidekick?"
Kunal gave a tired grin, the weight of exhaustion starting to catch up with him. "I'll explain. When we're back. Away from any eyes."
Vaibhav snorted. "Yeah, that's the first good idea you've had all day, you lunatic."
---
Back at the guesthouse, behind a bolted door and thin curtains, Kunal finally let himself collapse onto the narrow cot. His breath came slow, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the visions, the revelations, the sheer enormity of it all.
The call came just as he reached for water.
Abhishek's voice crackled through the line. "Bhai! Are you alive?"
Kunal closed his eyes, smiling faintly. "Yeah. We're back. And we found… more than we bargained for."
Vaibhav dropped onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "Tell him your bro deserves a medal, by the way."
---
As Kunal recounted everything drawing connections with yesterday— the hidden chamber, the inert disc, the activated wall map, the memory flashes of his past life, the strange whispering across time — the line on the other end went quiet.
Finally, Ananya's voice came through, tight with awe. "You heard someone?"
Kunal exhaled, nodding though she couldn't see. "Yeah. Like some recorded audio message. It gave me a direction. Patliputra."
"Which makes sense," Ananya said quickly, her mind already racing. "It's where the imperial archives would have been. Where secret orders were kept. Maybe where the conspirators first emerged…"
Abhishek cut in, pragmatic as ever. "It's also where our friends are probably setting traps already. Kunal, we can't afford any more close calls. We have to move carefully."
"I know," Kunal murmured. His fingers traced the obsidian fragment absentmindedly, feeling the pulse of history still humming in the stone. "But I can't stop now."
---
The next day passed in a blur of planning.
Ananya sent encrypted files packed with everything she could dig up on the ancient Pataliputra caves — cave monasteries, hidden chambers, records of esoteric knowledge orders that once rivaled even Chanakya's network.
Abhishek booked the journey, choosing long-distance buses with messy transfer routes to avoid trackers.
Kunal and Vaibhav kept their heads down, blending into the crowd, buying simple clothes, wrapping their phones in burner cases, watching every alley and shadow with suspicion.
And always, Kunal felt it — the pull in his chest, stronger now, as if the very land was calling him there.
---
Night fell.
Kunal and Vaibhav boarded the battered old bus, its engine coughing to life as the driver shouted out the destination. They took seats near the back, packs tucked underfoot, Kunal's hand never straying far from the fragment in his pocket.
Vaibhav leaned back, throwing an arm over the seat. "So. Patliputra, huh? You are not planning to do your sparkly thing here right? Should I keep an eye on you?"
Kunal chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'll try to keep it together."
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the rumble of the road beneath them, the flicker of streetlights sliding past the windows.
Then, Kunal turned to the window, his reflection faint against the glass, the dark shape of the countryside rolling by.
He felt it — not just in the fragment, or in his memories, or in the warnings whispered in his ears.
He felt it in his bones.
This was no longer just a search for truth. It was no longer just about the past.
It was about becoming — stepping fully into the person he was meant to be, the one the conspirators working in shadows always feared across lifetimes.
A leader. A protector. A reborn lion.
---
As the bus rumbled into the dark, Kunal leaned his head back, eyes half-closed, the voice steady in his mind:
"In your land of birth, O divine prince, you shall arise once more."
And this time, Kunal vowed silently, that he would rise with his eyes wide open.
To be continued…