The kaali-peeli taxi sped through the thinning late-night traffic of Mumbai, each streetlight flashing momentarily across Kunal's tense face. He sat rigidly in the back, Abhishek beside him, both scanning the rearview mirror, the mirrors of passing bikes, the shadowed doorways they passed. Every car felt like a potential tail, every flicker of movement a possible threat. The watcher might be gone from outside his apartment, but the feeling of being hunted, of an adrishya shatru (unseen enemy), clung to him like the damp night air.
"Relax thoda, bhai," Abhishek murmured, though his own eyes kept darting around. "Almost there."
Abhishek's apartment building in Versova was newer than Kunal's, with a security guard (dozing, but present) at the gate and sturdy locks on the main door. Inside, Abhishek's place was a typical bachelor pad – functional, slightly messy, but comfortable. The first thing Abhishek did was double-lock the door and draw the curtains tight.
"Theek hai," he said, turning to Kunal. "Safe for now. Let Ananya know we reached."
Kunal sent a quick, coded message to Ananya. Relief flooded him momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by the chilling reality. He wasn't home. He was hiding.
"Right," Abhishek declared, already pulling out his laptop and connecting Kunal's phone. "Let's see what Big Brother might have left behind." He started running diagnostics, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "You need a burner phone, yaar. Starting tomorrow. This phone… consider it compromised until proven otherwise."
While Abhishek worked, Kunal paced the small living room. He felt like a prisoner again, not of stone walls like in his memory flash, but of fear and uncertainty. What was the point of remembering if it only brought danger? What was this Niyati (destiny) Ashoka spoke of if it led only to being hunted?
"Anything?" Kunal asked, stopping beside Abhishek.
Abhishek frowned at the screen. "Standard stuff looks clean… no obvious spyware flags from this initial scan. But that doesn't mean much. Could be sophisticated. The car outside… that wasn't amateur hour." He disconnected Kunal's phone. "Wipe it clean tomorrow anyway. Get a new SIM, new burner phone. Basic precautions." He leaned back. "So, we're hiding. Aur ab kya? (And now what?) Just wait for them to make the next move?"
As if on cue, Kunal's phone – the potentially compromised one still sitting on the table – buzzed. Not a call, but a secure message notification from Ananya. Kunal quickly opened it.
Ananya: 'Found something potentially huge. Digging into obscure commentaries on Mauryan succession & espionage. Found repeated mentions of a covert group/family line known as the 'Guptacharas' (related to spies/secret keepers). Texts hint they operated from the shadows, manipulating events even after Ashoka. Could this be the 'shadow council' lineage? Trying to trace if the name persisted or changed…'
"Guptacharas…" Kunal read it aloud. "Spies? Secret keepers?" It felt chillingly plausible. A group skilled in manipulation, operating from the shadows for centuries?
Abhishek whistled softly. "Bhai, this gets deeper and deeper. A secret society active since Mauryan times? Still around?"
Before Kunal could reply, the burner phone Abhishek had just handed him – a simple, featureless backup phone Abhishek kept for emergencies – suddenly rang. Its shrill, unfamiliar tone cut through the tense silence. Kunal and Abhishek exchanged alarmed glances. No one should have this number yet.
Hesitantly, Kunal answered, putting it on speaker.
Silence for a beat. Then, a voice – deep, electronically distorted, impossible to place.
"Kunal Shukla." The voice stated his name, a cold confirmation that they knew exactly who had the phone. "The Lotus-Eyed returns (Kamalanetra pratyāgacchati). Answers await where Shiva dances eternal (yatra Śivaḥ nṛtyati nityaṁ)."
Kunal's blood ran cold. Kamalanetra. Lotus-Eyed. The specific epithet from his past life.
The voice continued, flat and devoid of emotion. "Elephanta Caves. Tomorrow. Midnight. Come alone."
Click.
The line went dead.
Kunal stared at the burner phone, his hand shaking slightly. Abhishek's face was grim. Ananya's message about the Guptacharas lay forgotten for the moment, overshadowed by this direct, cryptic summons.
Elephanta Caves – the island sanctuary dedicated to Shiva, reachable only by ferry. Midnight. Alone.
"Answers…" Kunal whispered, the word tasting like dust.
"Or a trap," Abhishek countered immediately. "Bohot risky hai, bhai. (It's very risky, brother.) Who the hell was that? The council? The watchers? Someone else?"
Ananya, informed via frantic texts, quickly responded: 'Elephanta? Shiva? Fits the theme, but feels like a trap! Don't go alone! But… 'answers'… We need them. Kya karein? (What to do?)'
The dilemma hung heavy in the air of Abhishek's small apartment. They were being watched, hunted by forces stretching back millennia. And now, a mysterious invitation to walk into the lion's den, alone, under the gaze of the dancing Shiva, with the promise of answers they desperately needed. The weight of choices, far heavier than any corporate deadline, pressed down on Kunal.
To be continued...