Later in Drisyam News and papers office.
Raghav sat in his desk, and took out the black book, given by Mrityu, and asked pitamah in his mind.
"So you know about this book?" voice low.
Pitamah heard it.
"It is a ledger," he replied evenly. "A memo of every wound humanity has inflicted upon itself since Kalyuga began. No tracker. No hidden malice. No underhand trap — as far as my sight reaches. Mrityu does not deal in deception. He deals in mirrors. And mirrors do not lie."
Raghav's fingers rested on the cover again — almost protective.
"So I can open it? Look inside?"
Pitamah's didn't answer right away.
"Why do you wish to?"
Raghav's eyes harden. His voice came out rougher than he intended.
"Because I want to see everything that's man-made. Every choice. Every cruelty. Every name that should never have been written."
Pitamah studied his voiice for a long breath.
"Not a bad reason," he said finally. "But be careful. Knowledge of this kind does not leave the mind quietly. It settles. It grows roots. I will keep watch."
Raghav looked at the silent book. It's pages covering the deadliest disaster than mankind has inflicted on themselves.
"If something like this happens again… I can save people, right? The ones who are about to become another page?"
Pitamah shook his head once — slow, final.
"No. Not if it is done by human hands alone. Only if you sense outer involvement — a Kaal, a force from beyond mortal will — may you act."
Raghav's voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through.
"Why not in the normal cases? Why let it happen at all?"
Pitamah's gaze did not waver.
"Because interference changes the balance. They have there free will, they can make there own choices. Even bad choices teach us something Raghav, If we step in every time a human raises a hand in anger or greed, they will learn nothing. And kept on repeating the mistakes of past. Day after day." Raghav remained silent, pondering his words.
" They will fear us. They will worship us. And worship always turns to chains. We have seen it before."
Raghav's laugh was short, bitter.
"Isn't that exactly how they greeted Krish? What's the difference? I thought you were discrbing him."
Pitamah's voice grew quieter — almost reflective.
"Krishna is an individual. A singular light in his time. In my days, strength like his was not unheard of. Kings and warriors walked with divine boons snd weapon. He represented the future Raghav. But you… you represent the past. The forgotten oaths. The silent watchers. Humans can accept the future. But they will always questions the past. We are already myths to them. Let them keep considering us so."
Raghav looked down at the book, fingers tightening on the edges.
"If you consider Krishna's strength 'nothing new'… I wonder how we even survived back then."
Pitamah's mouth curved — the faintest ghost of a smile.
"We survived because some lights burn brighter when the darkness is deepest."
Raghav exhaled sharply.
"Then can I play hero?"
Pitamah's answer came without hesitation.
"You can, as Raghav Suryavanshi. Without the mantle. As a man among men — yes. But as Maharakshak… no." Raghav remained silent.
" What if there is something humanity can't handle." Pitamah paused, and than replied.
" The world has never lacked heros. When the time come, they will rise."
The silence stretched — thick, heavy with unspoken centuries. Raghav deep in thought asked.
"Pitamah."
The old man paused, waiting for him to continue.
Raghav looked at the book again.
"If I keep tearing pages… will I ever stop feeling like I'm failing them?"
Pitamah did not react, he has seen more than anyone.
"You will not stop feeling it," he said softly. "But one day… you may learn to carry it without falling." Raghav sat there, staring at the book. And grabbed it.
Pages whispered as he flipped — names, dates, places, motives laid bare in faded ink. Each entry felt like a fresh bruise.
He stopped on one page.
His thumb traced the name at the top — a recent one.
He exhaled — slow, steady, almost resigned.
Then he tore it free.
The sound was quiet.
But the air in the room changed — grew colder, heavier.
Raghav closed his eyes for a single heartbeat.
Next day Daisy entered early — before even the cleaning staff. She carried two coffees, one already sipped. She walked straight to his office without knocking.
"You're early," Raghav said without looking up.
Daisy froze in the doorway. Pages everywhere. Raghav sat calmly, thick black book in hand, torn pages of book littering the floor.
"G-good morning, boss," she stammered.
Raghav glanced up. "Sorry for the mess. Can I have that coffee?"
She handed it over quickly — too quickly to mention she'd already taken a sip. She take back the outstretched hand. And look down on the pages below. As she did, her eyes caught a name on one fallen page. She bent to pick up a few more.
"Are these…?"
"Catastrophes," Raghav finished quietly. "Man-made. Every one."
Daisy scanned the pages — names, dates, causes. Her voice dropped.
"Research for the Kalikal Storm?"
"No. These are different. All human-caused. The book holds not just the dead… but those responsible. I plan to visit them someday."
Daisy placed one page gently on the desk. "Jallianwala Bagh" stared up at them.
"You might be late for some," she said softly. "This one's long gone."
Raghav nodded. "True. But some aren't."
Daisy hesitated. "I heard there was a bomb blast in the New York subway. Two days ago. No group has claimed it yet."
Raghav's eyes flicked to a torn page half-hidden under another.
"They never will," he murmured — almost to himself.
He closed the book gently.
"Anyway — the ad is ready? Did you check?"
Daisy straightened. "Yes. I sent the final copy — the one you still haven't read. Repairs in the city are going smoothly. Everything's on track."
"Great." Raghav leaned back. "Order breakfast. I know you skipped it too. For two."
Daisy nodded and turned to leave.
The door closed softly behind her.
Raghav opened the book again.
Flipped to a fresh page.
And tore it slowly.
Late Afternoon
The office gradually filled with the usual morning rhythm — printers humming, phones ringing, quiet greetings exchanged. Jiya and Jay stepped out of the lift together, twins in sync as always. They nodded to colleagues on their way to their desks.
As soon as they sat, a woman from the next cabin leaned over the partition.
"Boss and that Christian girl are eating together again," she said in a stage whisper. "Three days in a row now. And they said they are not dating."
Jay cracked her neck casually. "Maybe."
The woman smirked. "He defended her in front of everyone last week. Made me redo an entire ad in under an hour. You can see the favoritism right thwret."
Jiya stayed silent, eyes fixed on the direction of Raghav's office. She didn't join the gossip.
Later, near the coffee machine, Dizzy was pouring herself a cup when she felt someone behind her.
She turned — Jiya stood there, expression neutral.
"You scared me," Dizzy said, steadying the cup before it spilled.
"Sorry," Jiya replied flatly. "Wasn't looking."
Dizzy gave a small smile. "How's your day going?"
"Good. Yours?"
"Same old," Daisy said casually. "Busy with reports."
Jiya leaned against the wall. "Storms, bomb blasts, weird headlines lately… usual chaos. Anything new with you?"
Dizzy finished her coffee. "Nothing exciting."
Jiya nodded. "Hmm."
Dizzy started to walk away.
Jiya's voice stopped her.
"Are you two… doing stuff?"
Dizzy turned back. "What?"
"I mean… did you talk to him? About what we discussed earlier?"
Dizzy shook her head quickly. "No."
"Oh… okay." Jiya looked down, voice softening. "I shouldn't have asked for your help."
Dizzy hesitated. The guilt in Jiya's tone tugged at her — exactly as intended. She sighed.
"Look… I'll talk to him. I promised I'd introduce you properly. I'll keep my word."
Jiya's eyes brightened just enough. "Really?"
Dizzy nodded. "Yes. But only a professional introduction. The rest is up to you."
Jiya smiled faintly. "Thank you, Daisy."
Dizzy walked away, already regretting how easily she'd folded.
Later – Raghav's Office
Dizzy sat across from Raghav's desk. He was focused on paperwork, the torn pages from the black book neatly stacked near the TV. The news channel played in the background — a report about a local carnival mysteriously restored overnight after storm damage. No one knew how.
Dizzy kept glancing at him — posture stiff, fingers twisting in her lap.
Raghav didn't look up.
"You have something to say?"
"Hmm?" Dizzy startled.
"You've been staring for the last five minutes. What's on your mind?"
Dizzy exhaled. "Nothing… just thinking."
"About?"
She took a breath. "What do you think about marriage?" Raghav looked up and replied.
" If it's about that girl, Saakshi. I was just kidding, she is too young and little armature, I'm not interested in that." Dizzy shook her head and asked.
" Not that, I mean actuall marriage." Raghav set his pen down. He studied her — saw the reluctance in her eyes, the way she wasn't asking for herself
"First, professionally — it's beneficial. Long-term stability. Trust. Family. You know who's really with you. Some mental and physical advantages too." He leaned back. "Personally? I'll pass. Not interested."
Dizzy nodded slowly. "Why not?"
Raghav shrugged. "I don't see anything in it for me. I have money. I don't care who inherits the business — plenty of capable people. And I don't want the responsibility of kids."
"You don't like children?"
"I like them fine. They seem to like me too. But being a father? No. I'm not built for that. Family, wife, children. Nah I'm good as I am."
Daisy looked at him quietly. "So… you've never loved anyone? Like that?"
"I have. But never in the boyfriend-girlfriend way. We were friends. Nothing more. There was some flings, but never serious."
"Oh…" Daisy's voice softened, almost sad.
Raghav tilted his head. "Something bothering you, Dizzy?"
She met his eyes. "Can you do me a favor?"
That Night – Jiya's Apartment
Jay watched her twin sister get ready — short black one-piece dress, perfect makeup, purse in hand.
"Where are you going, sis?"
"On a date."
"With whom?"
"Our boss. Mr. Raghav."
Jay frowned. "Wait… isn't he dating that Christian girl?"
Jiya applied one last touch of lipstick. "No. In fact, she helped me get this date."
Jay's eyes narrowed. "Helped you how?"
"I asked nicely."
Jay grabbed her arm gently. "Jiya… are you trying to be a gold digger?"
Jiya pulled free. "No. I like him."
Jay studied her sister's outfit, the confidence that felt unfamiliar.
"Then why dress like that? You never wore anything this short before. You said he wasn't your type."
Jiya met her eyes in the mirror. "I changed my mind. And I like these dresses now."
Jay's voice dropped. "Don't be jealous, little sister. Glasses-wearing loser going on a date with the boss… I can see it."
"Jiya—"
"Nothing," Jiya cut in. "I just got better."
She walked out. A taxi waited outside. She climbed in without looking back.
Jay stood at the window, watching the car disappear into the night.
Fancy Hotel – Dinner
Raghav and Jiya sat across from each other. Candlelight flickered. Jiya blushed every time he looked at her. Raghav ate calmly.
"So… Mr. Raghav," she began, voice sweet. "What do you like to eat?"
"Morning — sandwich and orange juice. Lunch — rice with vegetables."
"Mmm, nice."
"What do you do in your spare time?"
Raghav shrugged. "Heavy lifting. Saving the world."
Jiya laughed — a little too brightly. "You're funny."
" Am I?" He said. And the girl started to blabber about this and that, and Raghav heads it, nodding whenn needed. And some time later.
Raghav set his fork down. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
He looked straight into her eyes — calm, direct.
"What do you want from me?"
Jiya's smile faltered. "What… what do you mean?"
"Plain and simple. What do you want from me?"
She swallowed. "I like you."
"And?"
"I… want to marry you."
Raghav leaned back. "But I don't want to get married."
Jiya blinked. "Marriage?"
Raghav's tone stayed even, business-like. "I'm asking from a practical point of view. What are you bringing to the table that would keep me loyal to you?"
Jiya stared. "Excuse me?"
"I said — what are you offering that makes me choose you over anyone else? I'm a businessman, Jiya. I don't invest time in something that doesn't interest me."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I-I'll love you."
"I don't need love. Anything else?"
"I'll take care of you."
"I have staff for that."
"I'll be there for you. Always. When you need a shoulder, when you want to talk, when you feel alone. I can give you a family."
Raghav's expression didn't soften. "Any woman can say that. I have money for my needs. I have options — high-profile models, billionaire daughters, women from different cultures who bring different value. Why should I choose you?"
Jiya's tears spilled over. She stood abruptly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Raghav… for wasting your time."
She walked out.
Raghav sighed, rubbing his temple.
" That was quick!"
Pitamah's voice appeared in his mind — dry, faintly amused.
"I thought you were smooth with women."
"Yeah," Raghav muttered. "Apparently not. And why does she left so quickly?"
"You went full business mode. Perhaps an apology was in order."
"I know. I said too much. Too harshly." He stood. "Why can't I have one normal date?"
Pitamah's tone sharpened slightly. "What you said could be considered offensive to many women."
Raghav paused at the table. " She used Dizzy insted of asking me directly. Isn't she trying to. Be too smart." Pitamah didn't argues instead said.
" Your thoughts about marriage is quite interesting, don't you think. Marriage has a equal responsibility." And Raghav sighed.
" You are right, but this is modern age. If a woman can judge a man by looks or status, I can judge by what value she brings. The world runs on facts, not feelings. That equal responsibility is long gone my friend. In today's world, mostly only one person to carry the weight of relationship."
Pitamah's voice held quiet warning. "For a being such as you, that mindset is… twisted."
Raghav paid the bill in silence, and paid no attention to his last comment.
In the car, he stared out the window. When he felt something.
"Did you feel that?" he asked suddenly.
"Feel what?" Pitamah replied.
"Soma."