The rain came down in sheets, drumming against the asphalt as though the sky itself was enraged. The highway was nearly deserted, save for the roar of a lone motorcycle slicing through the storm. Its rider leaned forward, eyes sharp, as if racing against more than just time.
Satya Maurya.
He wasn't headed anywhere in particular until the bend in the road revealed chaos. A group of thugs were beating his friend mercilessly in the on the side of the highway. Satya's blood boiled. He didn't think, he didn't hesitate. He threw the bike to the side and charged.
His fist cracked against the jaw of the first man. The second went down with a savage kick to the ribs. Breathless, Satya knelt to untie his friend's ropes, but a desperate warning came:
"Satya! Behind you!"
He spun just in time to grab another attacker by the collar, raining blows down until the man crumpled. Victory felt close... but fate struck faster. From the corner of his vision, a shadow swung. A heavy wooden staff smashed against the back of his skull.
The world went black.
Satya collapsed. His body lay sprawled in the rain, but his soul drifted upward, torn from the flesh. When his eyes opened again, he was no longer on the highway. He floated in a void vast, silent, infinite.
Then suddenly two figures stood before him, their outlines shimmering with a divine glow.
the black void colour changes into a voilet ,purple sky.
The first spoke, voice calm but commanding.
"So, Satya Maurya… your deeds have reached us. We offer you one wish. Speak it, and it shall be granted."
Satya's thoughts raced. His family name once mighty, now forgotten. His ancestors once emperors, now blamed for weakness. The last Maurya king, Brihadratha a man too frail to protect his throne.
"I want to go back," Satya said, his voice steady. "Reincarnate me as the last king of the Maurya dynasty. Let me correct the mistakes my ancestors made. Let me restore their glory."
The first being nodded. "So be it."
Light erupted, blinding and absolute. His soul was carried into its brilliance. As he vanished, the second figure murmured to the first, almost like a teacher addressing a pupil:
"Do you truly believe this boy will succeed?"
"Yes," came the answer. "There is fire in him. Enough to change destiny."
The light swallowed Satya whole.
When his eyes opened again, the world had changed. He lay on a soft bed, bandages wrapped around his head and chest. For a moment, he wondered if it had all been a dream. But then a guard entered the chamber, bowed deeply, and said:
"Your Majesty, the court awaits you."
Satya froze. Majesty.
Slowly, he rose, his reflection in a polished bronze mirror showing a face not his own older, regal, adorned in silks. He touched the garments, the ornaments, the weight of a crown. His lips curled into a dangerous smile.
Then he experiences a severe headache and begins to regain his memories, revealing that he is in the body of 23-year-old King Brihadratha Maurya, who has been controlled by his ministers since the beginning, and is in this state due to an ambush the previous night.
"So… I am Brihadratha now," he whispered.
And in that smile was a promise that history would not repeat itself.