IBanni hesitated.
"I… just decided not to panic," she said softly, avoiding her eyes.
Kriti squinted. "Hmph. You're hiding something. You're studying some secret shortcut, right?"
Banni laughed lightly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Kriti grinned. "Ugh, I would! I sat through the entire Science class thinking of pani puri. You? You were actually answering stuff. You never answer in Science!"
Banni shrugged. "Maybe pani puri is your problem."
The two girls burst into laughter.
Back in her seat, Banni finished her snack quietly.
Excellent! Here's Chapter 9 of your web novel — Banni continues to quietly evolve. Her calm progress is noticed by a few, but no one questions her deeply... yet.
The short break ended, and the students slowly returned to their seats with crumbs on their uniforms and unfinished conversations still dancing in their heads.
Banni sat silently, her hands folded over her notebook.
No one paid much attention to her.
And that's how it had always been.
She wasn't the class topper.
She wasn't the outspoken one.
She wasn't part of the popular groups.
She was just… there. A name on the attendance list. A quiet face on the back bench. The kind of student who passed with just enough marks to avoid scolding—but never enough to draw applause.
So even now, as she began answering more questions, taking neater notes, and showing up to class early… nobody really thought much of it.
Not even the teachers.
"Oh, she must be studying a little more now," they thought.
That was the benefit of being invisible.
She wasn't a threat. She wasn't competition. She was just Banni.
In the third class—Math—the teacher wrote a word problem on the board. Everyone groaned.
"This is from last term," she warned. "If you've forgotten how to solve it, it'll show."
Most students dropped their heads onto their desks. Kriti was already chewing the end of her pen nervously.
But Banni's eyes scanned the question once.
The Magical Space's Logic Calibration Zone had already burned the method into her memory.
She began solving it quietly in her notebook, step by step.
Correct. Clean. Confident.
The teacher walked down the aisle and stopped at her desk.
"Finished already?"
Banni blinked. "Yes, ma'am."
The teacher looked surprised, but not suspicious. "Let's see."
She picked up Banni's notebook. Her eyes scanned the solution.
"Hm. This is right."
Then she moved on, not saying much else.
No compliments. No extra attention.
And that was fine with Banni.
Invisibility gave her space.
By the time school ended, she had completed her notes, solved two revision exercises, and felt… light.
Not drained like the others. Not overwhelmed.
As she walked home with her brother, he asked casually, "Can you help me revise Hindi tonight?"
Banni smiled. "Sure. I'll explain it better after dinner."
He nodded, not thinking too much of it. To him, she was still just akka.
No one knew what was happening behind her eyes.
No one knew about the Magical Space that had awakened inside her.
And that's how she liked it.
Let the world think she was the same.
The evening sun cast long golden shadows across the living room floor as Banni and her younger brother unpacked their school bags.
"Akka," he called, flopping onto the mat with a book in his hand, "you said you'll help me with Hindi revision after dinner. You remember?"
Banni looked up from her notebook and nodded. "Of course I remember. I promised."
Her brother grinned. "Not like last time, right? You said you'd help, then you got too sleepy and said, 'tomorrow.'"
Banni smiled faintly. That had been before the Magical Space. Before her focus had sharpened and her energy had returned.
Now, she meant what she said.
After a simple dinner with their parents—rice, rasam, and a small serving of vegetable curry—Banni took her brother's Hindi textbook and sat beside him under the yellow glow of their shared study lamp.
He opened to the lesson titled "सच्चाई का पुरस्कार" (The Reward of Truth).
"Ugh, I don't get this story," he groaned. "Too many words I don't understand."
"Let's go slow," Banni said gently. "First, let's read the paragraph out loud together."
He read clumsily, stumbling on words.
Banni didn't laugh. She waited. Then read the same lines fluently, softly, in a rhythm that matched the story's meaning.
"See this word—'इनाम'—means reward. And this one—'ईमानदारी'—means honesty. So when the boy returns the lost wallet, he gets rewarded for being truthful."
Her brother's eyes widened. "Ohhh! Now I get it!"
Banni continued explaining the rest of the story, connecting each line to his world. She used examples he liked—like when he returned a classmate's lost ruler even though he could've kept it.
"You're like the boy in the story," she said with a smile.
He beamed with pride.
---
By the end of the hour, he had read the whole story aloud, explained it in his own words, and even answered two questions correctly.
"I think I'll do okay tomorrow," he said, yawning. "Thanks, akka."
Banni patted his head. "Good job."
As he curled up to sleep, she packed away the books and turned off the lamp.
But she wasn't done for the night.
She sat on her bed, eyes steady, and whispered:
"Activate Space Window."
Whoosh.
The glow returned.
This time, she was ready for the next step.
"Open Timeline Thread Room."
The third door appeared—Social Studies—pulsing softly in front of her.
She stepped inside, ready to walk through time itself.
As Banni stepped through the third glowing door, the atmosphere changed instantly.
This was not a classroom.
Not a textbook.
Not even a simulation.
This was time itself — unraveling before her eyes.
Golden light wove through the air like threads, twisting and turning into different pathways, each labeled with glowing names:
Ancient India
Medieval India
Freedom Struggle
Post-Independence Civics
Geography Zones
Everyday Economics
Banni stood still, breath caught in her throat.
The voice returned, calm and clear.
"Welcome to the Timeline Thread Room. Here, every chapter is a lived journey. Where would you like to begin?"
She hesitated—then pointed at Ancient India.
Part 1: The Past Awakens
With a soft hum, the space shifted.
She found herself inside the Indus Valley Civilization — tall stone buildings, public baths, well-planned streets, and seals with mysterious script. She could see how people lived, how they traded, how far they were ahead of their time.
Then, the thread shifted.
She was now watching Ashoka after the Kalinga war, sitting silently with blood on his hands and regret in his eyes. She saw the moment he chose peace. She saw the rise of Buddhism. She heard the teachings on dharma, not from a book—but from Ashoka himself.