The universe is not silent. It hums, it vibrates, it breathes. Within its boundless fabric, time is a river, flowing in endless loops, folding upon itself, shaping destinies unseen.
And in the heart of this vast cosmic cycle, a man awakens.
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A dream—no, a memory.
Golden spires towered over the city of Pataliputra, their reflections dancing upon the waters of the mighty Ganges. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the iron tang of spilled blood. The cries of betrayal still echoed in his ears