The fluorescent lights of the anatomy lab flickered once before steadying.
Parth sat at his table, flipping through a diagram of the thoracic cavity, but his mind was far from lungs and intercostals. Beside him, Neel silently labelled diagrams while Aarav tapped his pen against his teeth, unusually quiet.
Their classmates bustled around — laughter, groans, the rustle of lab coats. Nothing looked wrong. But the air felt... heavier.
Professor Mehra barked, "Group three, stop giggling and focus!" before turning back to a preserved cadaver with practiced ease.
Parth's gaze shifted to the window. Outside, the sky was oddly yellow.
A shiver ran up his spine.
It wasn't over.
---
A low rumble. Then —
BOOM.
The tables jolted. Bottles clattered. The fans swayed violently.
Screams.
"Earthquake!"
"Under the tables! Now!"
A chorus of panic. Students dove beneath furniture. The ground roared like a living beast.
But Parth didn't move.
Something about the quake wasn't natural. It wasn't a tremble. It was a tear — as if the earth itself was resisting being split.
Across the room, Sia Bose hadn't moved either.
While others cried and ducked, she stood still — eyes blank, lips parted.
Then, as dust fell from the ceiling, she slowly lowered herself onto the shaking floor.
And touched it. Gently.
With reverence.
The quake stopped.
Completely.
In the dead silence that followed, Parth's eyes locked on hers.
For a second — just a second — she glowed.
A faint, silver light seemed to bloom from her fingertips. The ground beneath her shimmered like moonlit water.
Everyone stared.
And then —
"AAAAHHH! OH MY GOD! THE FLOOR WAS MOVING, IT WAS MOVING, I TOUCHED A GHOST! A GHOST FLOOR!! AAAAHH!"
Sia leapt backward, flailing her arms.
"It whispered at me! I swear it said Namaste! Why did the earth say Namaste!?"
She tripped on a stool and landed dramatically next to the cadaver tray.
"I AM TOO YOUNG TO BECOME A CRAZY!"
Aarav, still crouched beneath a bench, blinked. Then calmly said:
> "Chalati dharaṇī, na kevala bhūmātrā—kālaḥ svayam kampate."
(The earth trembles, not just in body—but time itself is shaking.)
Parth stiffened.
His eyes snapped toward Aarav. Then back to Sia.
She was now hyperventilating and asking someone for chocolate.
The light was gone. The room had returned to normal.
But Parth felt it.
Something ancient. Sacred. And terrifyingly familiar.
---
Later that afternoon, news alerts began popping up on everyone's phones.
> "Strange Wanderer Sighted in Gujarat's Ruins — Locals Claim 'He Looked Like a Warrior From Another Age.'"
> "Footage Surfaces: Unknown Man Walking Alone Through Abandoned Temples in Odisha Moments Before Minor Quake."
> "Who Is He? Same Face Captured in Temple Security Footage Across Three States."
Same figure. Same ash-smeared skin. Same burning eyes.
Parth clenched his phone.
"Ashwatthama... are we meeting again?"
---
But he wasn't the only one watching.
Somewhere in the girls' dorm, Sia sat on her bed, clutching a cold water bottle and muttering,
"I'm going to need therapy."
And far, far away — in a part of the land no GPS could map — the earth cracked again.
But this time, it laughed.