"Questions in his eyes, a storm within his mind,
He sees it all… yet remains blind.
In a world of patterns, hiding a deeper design,
He searches for the voice… of a destiny not yet defined."
---
Mumbai. Marine Drive.
In the evening, the view here feels nothing less than a budget circus.
Leaning against the railing sat a sixteen-year-old boy, headphones on—but no music playing.
He didn't need music.
He enjoyed decoding the noise of the crowd far more.
This was Rudh.
If you ever looked up the definition of Main Character Energy, Rudh's face would probably pop up.
Ultra-handsome. Sharp jawline. And eyes with a cold glint—
the kind that makes you feel like he's not looking at you… but scanning your entire mental database.
Rudh let out a quiet breath and looked at the scattered chaos in front of him—
Generation Z in its natural habitat.
Two guys were doing twenty retakes for a fifteen-second reel.
A girl nearby, listening to a "main character energy" playlist, had an expression like she was carrying the emotional burden of all of Mumbai—filtered, of course.
"They think this is rebellion," Rudh thought, his gaze lingering on their aesthetic outfits.
"But they're all just slaves to the same algorithm."
Same slang. Same dance steps.
And an attention span so short—even a goldfish would laugh.
Their brainrot was so deep that if the Wi-Fi went out…
their brains might forget how to breathe.
---
"Rudh! Bro, where are you lost? Look—two o'clock direction, that girl's been scanning you for a while now," his friend Aryan said, nudging him.
Aryan—the kind of guy who could spend an entire day saying "No cap" and "Delulu."
Rudh slightly turned his head.
"Her body language says she's not interested in me… but in that fancy neon sign behind me. Focus, Aryan. Logistics, not looks."
Aryan grabbed his head.
"Bro, are you sixteen or sixty? Chill a little. Do you have to find a pattern in everything?"
Rudh gave a sharp smile.
"Once you start seeing patterns… it's hard to stop."
---
But that very night—
his logic betrayed him.
While all of Mumbai slept, something exploded inside Rudh's mind.
A memory fragment.
Not a dream.
A high-definition catastrophe.
He saw a world where the sky was filled with ash,
and the ground felt as cold as a graveyard.
Strange figures moved there—fast, blurred, terrifying.
They weren't human… but their speed surpassed machines.
Those things were attacking.
Below, amidst dirt and blood, stood a few figures—people who made the laws of physics look like a joke.
Rudh watched as one warrior blocked attacks without even turning—
as if his eyes existed across his entire body.
When those blurred predators lunged at him, the air itself trembled—
and every attack shattered against an invisible barrier.
---
But the strangest part?
The ground itself seemed to obey them.
And yet…
the center of all this chaos wasn't any warrior.
---
In the middle stood a stone pillar.
And on it—
a Kada.
A bracelet.
No one wore it.
Yet the entire battle revolved around it.
A strange violet light pulsed from it, bending the air itself.
So intense that Rudh couldn't even look at it properly.
There was a script engraved on it—
something that matched no language known today.
---
And then—
a voice tore through the silence in his mind:
"Find your destiny…"
---
Rudh jolted awake.
Sweat dripping. Heart pounding like he had just run a marathon.
He stared at his trembling hands.
A boy who mocked Gen-Z aesthetics…
was now trapped in a puzzle that no Google search could solve.
---
"Biological glitch," Rudh muttered, turning on his laptop.
"Probably some old movie scene stuck in my brain."
He drank some water, trying to shake off that violet pulse.
Destiny?
Words like that were a system error for his logic-driven mind.
He decided to ignore it.
For a genius, dreams are just chemical reactions. Nothing more.
---
But the moment he refreshed his laptop—
his breath stopped.
In the Chrome search bar—where he hadn't typed a single thing—
that same unknown script began typing itself.
And below it…
a red notification blinked.
---
"LOGIC FAILED. SYSTEM REBOOTING IN 13 BEADS…"