Revised M ep2
He started his car and took a few deep breaths. Then, in a move that would have made any stunt driver proud (or concerned), he kicked the accelerator, let go of the brake, and the car shot forward like a bullet.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Raghav screamed, voice climbing higher with every passing second.
And then—like a blink—he was airborne. Not just him, but the car seat he was sitting on, the steering wheel still clutched in his hands, and a broken piece of the escalator dangling from his feet. The rest of the car? Gone.
He landed with a thud in a white room filled with a soft golden glow. Still screaming.
"Can you be quiet?" an old man's voice interrupted.
Raghav shut his mouth instantly.
Standing there was an old man in flowing white-and-gold robes, beard so long it could've applied for its own postal code.
"You're here. I didn't expect you this soon," the old man said, sounding more bored than surprised.
Raghav scrambled to his feet, eyes darting around. His clothes had changed—he was now in that same blue kurta from before. Even his phone was gone.
"I died!" he gasped.
"No, you didn't. Not truly. I just teleported you here… from your current state," the man replied, still in that tone of a teacher forced to mark homework at 3 a.m.
"What the hell? Where am I?" Raghav's voice cracked as panic kicked in.
"Silence, kid. This isn't a place to hyperventilate." The man waved dismissively, and somehow Raghav's breathing slowed.
"My name is none of your business," the old man went on, "but you may call me Pita-Ma. I'm your… supposed teacher. I'll be showing you how to become the Maharakshak, protector of the universe."
Even Raghav couldn't help staring at him like he'd just been told his Uber driver was secretly a ninja.
"What?" he blurted.
"Well, whatever. There's your uniform and key. Don't lose them like the others. Meet at noon for duty."
And before Raghav could argue, the world shifted—and suddenly, he was in a changing room.
He stumbled over to the mirror, pinched himself, splashed his face with water.
"It was just a dream… it was just a dream," he muttered. Then, pulling out his phone, he called someone. "Listen, get that coffee cup I drank from. Send it for forensic testing. I don't care if it's been rinsed, burned, or launched into the sun—I want it checked."
As he threw on his clothes, he noticed something on the bench—the wooden box and a book.
He froze. There were two sets of blue kurtas inside, when there should've been one.
With hesitation, he opened the wooden box.
"This isn't real. The old man isn't real. This box isn't real," he told himself.
He touched it.
"…It's real," he admitted, almost comically.
Inside was a pair of metal bracers, each etched with intricate designs, half a chakra drawn on each. There was also a flat button-shaped piece of metal size or a thumb, with a full chakra symbol carved into it.
"This is the box the old man gave me," he said—then instantly denied it. "No, this is the box that the man in white gave me. I didn't jump off a cliff. I didn't die. I didn't meet the oldest man alive. And my car is outside."
He stormed to the door.
"…Where's my car?"
A taxi pulled up, the driver calling his name. Raghav just sighed. Definitely something in the coffee.
He reached his office building still dazed.
"That was all a dream. Stay focused. There was something in the coffee," he muttered to himself, stepping into the lift. Alone.
He pressed his floor's button. Music played. He waited.
Then… he noticed something odd.
The buttons were round and gold. A very familiar shade of gold. He pulled out the strange "key" the old man had given him.
"That's not possible. And even if it is… where am I supposed to—"
He saw a missing button in the bottom, which if one had to guess, the thumb size key should go.
"This isn't real," he said again, sliding the key in. It fit perfectly, glowing like the rest.
He pressed it slowly. Nothing happened—then the digital screen changed, showing the same chakra logo from the bracers.
Meanwhile, on another floor, Dizzy carrying a mountain of things waited for the lift. She saw it stop just below her, then start descending.
She raised her hand in frustration. "Can't my day get any worse?"
The lift started to go down. He looked at the digital screen, watching the numbers slowly decrease.
At the top, Dizzy saw something miraculous, the lift that she thought to be gone, opened the door for her. The lift stopped on his floor. It was empty. She sighed, thanking God for good luck and got in, still looking down.
And Raghav, who disappeared from the lift, was still in that lift, and it was descending. He kept his eyes fixed on the digital display, seeing how slowly the floor numbers were dropping. When they came to the lower numbers, he started sweating a bit. When it reached a level lower than five, his tension became clear. By the time it reached level one, he was literally sweating.
Then the screen changed—showing a chakra symbol instead of numbers.
The door opened with a sharp cling.
His clothes had changed into that same blue kurta as before. When he looked up, the lift had stopped inside that same white room with golden lights, same as before.
He peered inside cautiously, scanning the white room.
"Looking for something?" asked a white-haired old man.
Raghav recoiled at his sudden appearance. After looking at the man, he turned back to the lift, then at the man again, then at the buttons.
"Where are you looking? We have lots of work to do. No time to waste," the old man said, already stepping inside.
Seeing this, Raghav asked,
"Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my building? How did you manage to pull all this off? When did you make this secret base? And how did I not know about an old fossil having a secret room under my building?"
The old man looked at him, puzzled.
"What are you saying? Didn't your father prepare you for it?" he asked, frowning slightly.
"Don't change the question. I'm calling the cops on you, and I'm leaving."
He turned to make a beeline for the lift—but when he looked, the lift was gone. In its place was just an ordinary door. He turned back to the old man, who said nothing.
Without a word, Raghav walked out through the door, pulling out his phone to call his secretary.
He stepped out of the strange white room into a long, blue-colored corridor. Tossing away the uncomfortable women's sandals he was wearing, he focused on his phone—but it only beeped, showing No Signal.
He cursed under his breath and kept moving.
After leaving the corridor, he found himself in another white room—this one very different from the first. It was filled with human-sized glass display cases. Inside, strange metallic bracers floated in the air. Each case had a name written on it in some unfamiliar script. He gave them a quick glance, ignored them, and kept running.
He slammed open another door and entered what looked like a temple.
Statues lined all four walls—ten in total, carved from all kinds of stone. Some he recognized—Lord Krishna, Lord Ram—others were unknown to him.
Each wall also had a door.
The first was a normal-sized wooden door, carved with three different animals—a fish, a tortoise, a wild boar, and a lion. From it came the faint sound of the ocean.
The second door, on the left, was golden, covered in old script. From it came the soft chanting of shlokas.
The third was also gold but decorated with swords and weapons. Behind it came the faintest sound of battle.
On the fourth wall, far apart from each other, stood two strange statues—one of Lord Buddha, but different from any Raghav had ever seen. Half of the face was the serene Buddha in clay, but the other half was carved from black stone with the face of an angry demon.
The second statue was bluish-purple, depicting a man—or something like a man—holding a small blade in one hand and a chakra in the other. Its expression was terrifying.
Behind this statue loomed the most menacing door of all—black and red, the burnt wood patterned like flowing lava. Raghav decided instantly he was not going there.
Instead, he opened the wooden door with the fish carving. Inside, he saw a huge, raging ocean—and realized the door had opened into the middle of it. He quickly slammed it shut, backing away, his feet wet and his skin chilled by the wind.
He turned to the golden door with the shlokas. Opening it, he was overwhelmed by calm. A breathtaking landscape spread before him, full of flowers and tall trees, their branches hung with clusters of blue blossoms. Beneath one tree, a group of people in gurukul robes sat together.
Stepping through, he felt his bare feet sink into soft grass, a sensation so pure he wanted to stay there forever.
He might have… if a voice hadn't stopped him.
"You should come back. I don't want you to be lost in time," came the old voice of the Pitha-Ma.
Raghav turned, astonished, and saw the door still standing in the middle of the clearing, linking two separate realities. Slowly, he stepped back through.
Once inside the room, he staggered, feeling a wave of nausea.
"What was that?" he asked. "What is this place? Where am I? And who the hell are you?"
"That was Treta Yuga—the era of peace and knowledge—where manava (men) and danava (monsters) lived in the same loka (dimension). The door you opened first was Satya Yuga—the era of truth and creation—where manava and danava lived in different lokas. The third door, Dvapara Yuga, is an era of great war and dharma, where manava and danava lived under the same roof."
The old man began to walk away.
"What's the fourth door? A gate to hell?" Raghav called after him.
"You will never open that door," the old man said without turning. "But as your guru, I will tell you—Kali Yuga. An era of doom, where manava and danava live in the same person. And I am Pitha-Ma. As I told you, I have the duty to train and guide the Maharakshak—the preserver of the universe. And you, my student, have the honor to be one."
The air seemed to thicken with tension.
"Come again?"