"Chal theek hai, I'll see you both in the evening! Discord pe milte hain… and don't start the match without me!" Vicky shouted as he waved goodbye to his friends Rahul and Akash.
The two laughed and waved back, their school bags bouncing on their shoulders as they walked in the opposite direction. Vicky adjusted his own bag and turned toward the narrow lane that led to his house.
Just as he took his third step, a sudden gust of wind darted through the lane. A bright red dupatta from a nearby balcony broke free from its clothespin and came swirling down like a parachute gone rogue.
Before Vicky could react, it slapped across his face.
"Aye—!"
It wrapped around his eyes for a single second, blocking the world.
A single second.
But that was enough.
In that exact moment, far above the clouds, an object no bigger than a one-meter sphere came tearing through the upper atmosphere—glowing, shrinking, compressing. Within seconds it collapsed down into the size of a bearing ball, superheated, blazing, and accelerating straight toward the earth.
Straight toward him.
Vicky felt it before he saw it.
Something searing hot grazed the back of his right hand—no warning, no sound—just a streak of burning pain across his skin, sharp enough to make him jolt.
"Ow—what the—?!"
He yanked the dupatta off his face and looked around wildly.
Nothing. No one. No object bouncing on the ground.
Just the afternoon sun and the empty lane.
He stared at his hand.
The skin near his thumb was slightly rough… pink… and warm. Almost like a burn, but without the mark.
"Great… bas yahi bacha tha."
He shook his hand rapidly, trying to dispel the sensation. Today had already started badly. The physics exam had gone horribly, and now the universe was literally throwing things at him?
"Unlucky ka world record todne jaa raha hoon," he muttered, irritated, and resumed walking.
By the time he reached his apartment building and rang the bell, the burning feeling had dulled to a faint throb.
The door opened within seconds.
"Arre Vicky! Aagaya?" his mother, Sneha, said. "Go wash up first. Exam kaise tha?, and you look exhausted."
"Haan, haan, thik tha, ok maa," he said, dragging his feet inside.
He dropped his bag in his room, splashed water on his face, rubbed off the dust from his arms, and changed into a loose T-shirt. The mild sting on his right hand was still there somewhere under the skin—subtle but persistent.
Trying not to think about it, he walked to the kitchen.
Aloo ki sabji. Fresh roti.
The familiar smell instantly brightened his mood.
He quickly heated the food, grabbed the plate, and went back to his room.
Dropping onto his bed, he unlocked his phone and opened Discord.
The screen lit up with familiar usernames.
He typed quickly:
Vicky: Oye, reached home?
Vicky: When are we starting the match?
Vicky: Don't tell me you guys slept already.
He hit send and took a bite of the hot aloo—completely unaware that the strange object that grazed his hand hadn't just burned him.
It had chosen him.