Mumbai was a city of ghosts now.
Once the financial heart of India, it had become a graveyard of broken towers and sunken highways. Sea water had claimed its edges, while nature crept silently across glass and concrete. Dhruv Patel sprinted past a rusted BEST bus, boots thudding against cracked pavement. Behind him, the gang's angry shouts echoed like war drums.
"Stop him! He's got the shard!"
Shard. That's what they thought it was.
Dhruv clutched the obsidian-black stone in his hoodie pocket. It had called to him, no, sung to him, from deep inside the Elephanta Caves. Not with sound, but with vibration. A hum. A rhythm older than words.
Not power. Not wealth. Something else. Something deeper.
He vaulted over a fallen divider, nearly stumbling on a pothole filled with muddy rainwater. He didn't stop. Not even when broken glass cut into his palms as he dove beneath the collapsed gate of a side tunnel. This was the only way out. Or deeper in.
The air changed as he entered. Hot and metallic gave way to cool, damp, and heavy. Like stepping into memory.
He lit a makeshift torch, a pipe stuffed with oily cloth and wrapped with copper wire. The flame flickered against carvings that lined the ancient cave walls. Forgotten gods stared at him, their eyes weathered blank by time or desecration. A partially decayed statue of Shiva stood at the end of the corridor, cracked but unmistakably majestic.
The shard in his pocket pulsed.
His feet moved without thought. Closer. One step. Then another.
The stone burned hot through the cloth.
He reached out.
The world turned inside out.
A white void. Silent. Still.
System Initialization: Saptarishi Protocol
User Identified: Dhruv Patel, Age 19
Karma Level: Chaotic Neutral
Lineage Trace: Unknown - Anomaly Detected
Syncing First Relic…
The void collapsed into swirling light. Dhruv's body convulsed. The shard turned molten in his palm, burning a spiral pattern into his skin like a divine fingerprint. He screamed, but the sound didn't travel.
Seven voices spoke at once, in languages he didn't know, yet somehow understood. Sanskrit. Tamil. Prakrit. And something... unnameable.
Visions slammed into his brain: a bridge made of gold stretching across the sky; fire raining from the Himalayas; gods walking with men; a city built on floating stone. Then darkness.
He awoke face-down in cold water, coughing.
The torch had gone out.
Above him, the Shiva statue now glowed faintly blue. His hand throbbed. Etched into the cave wall beside him, new writing shimmered with golden light:
"One Relic Merged. Six Remain. Destiny Initiated."
Outside, the gang hadn't given up. Dhruv peered through a broken grating in the rock. Four men. Their voices bounced off the cave walls.
"He's still in there!" said Chikna, their leader. "I told you, this ain't just a ruin. That's Elephanta. These caves are vaults."
Vaults? Dhruv frowned. Vaults of what?
He backed away, breathing hard. His leg ached. No, not ached. It felt... strange.
He looked down.
Where he'd scraped his leg earlier, something had changed. Golden threads pulsed under his skin, like glowing nerves stitched into muscle. The wound was gone.
"System," he whispered. "What... are you?"
Saptarishi System Online
Relic of Sage Agastya Acquired (1/7)
Ability Unlocked: Inner Purge — Expel toxins and spiritual corruption.
Gunfire burst into the chamber. Instinctively, Dhruv ducked. Sparks flew where bullets struck the stone.
Danger Detected. Activating Passive Defense.
Golden light flickered along his skin. One bullet struck his shoulder and slowed. Slowed. Then dropped to the ground, flattened.
He didn't wait. He ran deeper into the cave, heart pounding like a war drum.
The passage opened into a larger chamber. At the far end, a sealed stone gate stood, etched with the names of the seven sages: Vishwamitra. Vashishta. Atri. Jamadagni. Gautama. Bharadwaja. Agastya.
The mark on his palm glowed.
He placed it against the stone.
With a hum, the gate responded. Not groaning or grinding, but singing.
The stone slid open to reveal a glowing corridor. And standing at the far end,
Was himself.
Older. Armored. Calm.
He held a blade that shimmered like starlight, carved with symbols that pulsed in rhythm with Dhruv's heartbeat.
"Welcome, Dhruv," the future self said. "You're late."
Dhruv froze. A hundred questions warred in his head, how, when, why, but none escaped his lips.
The older Dhruv raised his free hand. "The past is broken. The future is worse. But now that you're here, the path can begin."
The cave rumbled softly behind him. Dust fell. Footsteps approached.
And for the first time, Dhruv realized:
He wasn't just running from something.
He was running toward something much, much bigger.