Rahul's heart pounded relentlessly, each beat louder in his ears than the whirring drone engines above him. Perched on the runway at a secluded airfield just outside Bengaluru, he adjusted his headset and meticulously rechecked the drone's telemetry. This routine test flight felt inexplicably tense, an unease he couldn't entirely dismiss.
"Control, Rahul Galdar here. All pre-flight checks complete. Ready for vertical lift-off."
A burst of static crackled through the headset. "Acknowledged, Rahul. You're clear to proceed."
Rahul initiated the lift-off sequence. The drone's eight propellers whirred powerfully, gently raising the craft skyward. His eyes scanned the monitors with practiced precision—RPM stable, battery discharge nominal, gyroscopic readings optimal.
Despite his mundane role as technician and occasional test pilot, Rahul possessed an exceptional analytical mind. He'd always dreamed of designing revolutionary drone systems himself, yet career setbacks, bitter office politics, and difficult family obligations had relegated him to minor tasks. Today, though, ambition tugged at him stronger than usual.
"Altitude stable at 10 meters," Rahul confirmed, adjusting slightly for crosswinds.
A faint anomaly flickered across his console—brief voltage drops in motor four. His eyes narrowed. Rahul swiftly initiated diagnostics. Motor efficiency had dipped by 2%, thrust slightly asymmetric, and—crucially—a sudden temperature spike from motor four's electronic speed controller (ESC).
Rahul's pulse quickened as he mentally connected the dots—thermal runaway in an ESC shouldn't occur under these conditions. His mind raced to the drone's recent maintenance logs, which he'd reviewed meticulously the night before. Nothing suggested imminent failure. This wasn't natural wear; it was deliberate.
"Control, possible sabotage detected. Motor four's ESC compromised—"
A violent jolt cut him off. The drone spiraled erratically. Rahul's fingers flew over the console, frantically rerouting power and attempting emergency thrust redistribution. Momentarily, the drone stabilized. Yet, uncertainty gripped him—should he attempt a controlled landing or disengage completely?
"Abort mission immediately!" Control shouted urgently.
In that split second of hesitation, motor four exploded, shrapnel shredding critical systems. The drone plunged towards him uncontrollably.
Time slowed. Memories surged vividly—carefree summers in Hong Kong, chilly evenings wandering Germering's quiet streets, bustling nights studying engineering in Sendai, strained conversations at home, his father's weary expressions, his mother's quiet sighs, and a faint, cherished memory of his Chinese grandmother placing a peculiar old coin into his young palm.
Regret burned through him fiercely.
I should've trusted myself sooner.
The drone slammed into the runway, engulfing Rahul in searing heat and darkness.
—
Rahul jolted awake, chest heaving, drenched in sweat. Disoriented, he stared wildly around his room—posters of aircraft designs mixed with hastily scribbled derivations of Schrödinger's equation sprawled chaotically across the window panes. A familiar warmth drew his attention downward—his grandmother's coin hung loosely around his neck, faintly warm against his skin.
His heart pounded again, thoughts spiraling. Could this be real? He squeezed his hand tightly, recalling a scientific paper he'd once read: "In dreams, tactile and detailed sensory feedback diminishes significantly." Yet the texture, temperature, and pressure against his palm were vividly real. He glanced at the equations on the window—complex, perfectly accurate derivations from quantum mechanics scribbled by Mei Lin, a part brilliant and part alarmingly stupid classmate from Malaysia, during an all-night study session.
Dreams lacked such detailed consistency and logical coherence.
Rahul's breathing steadied slowly, analytical instincts gradually taking hold. Hypothesis: if sensory detail, logical consistency, and environmental interaction suggest a non-dream state, then reality, however improbable, must be accepted until disproven.
Carefully, he reached for his buzzing phone, its familiar weight reassuring in his hand. The date read clearly: March 11, 2013.
He sat in stunned silence. This wasn't his first time seeing this date—it was the start of his summer internship at IISc Bangalore, the very day he remembered having to choose between two seminars - one about cryptocurrencies - where a visiting professor from the University of Nicosia had casually mentioned Bitcoin for the first time, and the one he actually attended, which had something to do with optimizing rotor blade geometries using CFD. Nothing groundbreaking.
A strange sensation pulsed from the coin. Rahul glanced at it instinctively. It spun faintly on its chain without any outside force. A coincidence? Maybe. But it had never done that before.
He narrowed his eyes. There were too many impossibilities happening at once.
A system? No. Nothing digital had announced itself. But this coin…
What if this was the system?
Rahul stood slowly, eyes flicking around the room again. He didn't know how or why—but something fundamental had shifted. Theories about reincarnation, quantum consciousness, probability loops—fragments of academic papers, late-night debates, and science fiction references—all swirled through his head.
No answers yet. But one truth was clear.
He had been given a second chance.
And this time, he was going to do it right.