A voice cut through the dark empty space.
Sharp. Clear. Loud.
Not loud in sound — loud in presence. It did not rise. It did not strain. It simply arrived, and the silence rearranged itself around it.
"I am Samay."
There was no echo. Nothing dared to repeat the name.
"I am the endless Time."
The darkness did not tremble. It did not brighten. It only continued — because continuation was already in motion, when motion wasn't even a thing.
"I am like a wheel that never stops."
If one could see that wheel, it would not be forged of iron or carved from stone. It would not creak. It would not grind. It would turn without friction. Galaxies would spiral in its spokes. Nebulas would drift along its rim. Entire histories would cling to it like dust that believes itself permanent.
"I keep going."
A star ignited.
"I never tire."
That star aged.
"I never rest."
That star collapsed.
There was no shift in tone.
"Because of my movement, the world exists."
On a barren planet, fire cooled into crust. On that crust, rain fell. In those waters, something divided — once, then again, then without count. Time did not instruct it. Time did not design it. Time allowed it.
Moments stacked upon moments. That is all existence requires.
Without duration, there is no growth. Without growth, there is no structure. Without structure, there is no world.
Mountains rise because seconds accumulate into centuries. Rivers carve stone because minutes gather into ages. A child grows because hours refuse to freeze.
Time does not create mountains.
Time permits their rising.
Time does not carve rivers.
Time permits their erosion.
"I do not choose."
The wheel turned.
Empires declared themselves eternal. Kings lifted crowns and called their rule divine. Warriors lifted blades and believed the strike would echo forever.
Stone weathered. Crowns rusted. Blades dulled.
"I continue."
When Brahma begins a kalpa, a new cosmic day unfolding in radiance, Time does not begin with him. It was already flowing before the first syllable of creation was spoken. When Vishnu preserves, when Shiva dissolves — those acts move within duration. Even dissolution requires sequence.
When Odin hung upon Yggdrasil, pierced by his own spear in pursuit of wisdom, the sacrifice unfolded across measured nights. When Ragnarok arrives, it will not be outside Time. It will occur within it.
When Kronos swallowed his own children to resist prophecy, he remained bound to the very current he sought to escape. The devourer of gods could not devour duration.
When Lucifer tried to dethroned the very being that created his existence. When he launched the rebellion that shaped the heavens and hell, it all happened cause it has to happene in time.
Time does not argue with gods.
Time does not obey them either.
It moves.
A flower blooms. It does so because cells divide in order. It withers because order continues. The bloom is not separate from decay. The beginning is not separate from the ending.
"Everything is because I move."
The statement carried no pride.
Without motion, there is no before. Without before, there is no after. Without after, there is no change. And without change, there is no existence.
A heartbeat is only meaningful because it follows another. A word is only understood because it unfolds syllable by syllable. Even thought requires sequence.
Time is not an ornament to creation.
It is its framework.
The universe expands. Galaxies drift farther apart. Stars exhaust their fuel. Particles decay. Heat spreads evenly into quiet uniformity.
None of this is sudden.
It is gradual.
It is permitted.
"It will end."
The voice did not lower. It did not darken. It did not threaten.
It stated.
Just as there was a beginning — a singular ignition, a breath into nothingness — there will be a final silence. Not dramatic. Not theatrical. Complete.
Every beginning carries its ending within it.
The first spark of the cosmos contained its last fading ember. The first sunrise of Earth already leaned toward its final dusk. The first cry of an infant already walked toward its final exhale.
This is not cruelty.
This is structure.
A circle does not apologize for closing.
"There is an end to everything."
Mountains will fall. Oceans will vanish. The sun will dim. The fabric of space itself will stretch thin.
Even memory will dissolve.
The wheel does not crack. It does not shudder. It does not slow.
It turns.
Time is not an executioner. It does not raise a blade. It does not select victims.
It allows the sequence to conclude.
Yet endings do not occur without event.
A forest does not burn without flame. A civilization does not collapse without fracture. A star does not die without exhaustion.
An end is an arrival.
And arrivals are brought.
The voice did not pause for effect.
"This story is not about how the world began Or where it's end begun."
Creation has been sung in hymns. Written in scripture. Painted in temples. Carved into sacred stone.
"This is not a story of myth."
"This is not a story of a God."
A pause — not for drama, but for weight.
"This is a story of two mortals."
Blessed with strength that even gods would envy.
"This is their journey."
Their doubt.
Their defiance.
Their acceptance.
"This is the story of the questions they asked themselves… when no one else could answer."
The darkness slowly shifted.
Far away, at the edge of a quiet horizon, a thin line of gold appeared. Night did not protest. It stepped aside, cause it's his dawn.
The first ray of sun broke across the sky.
Soft. Relentless.
Day does not fight the night.
It replaces it.
"This is the story of a mortal named Arya… destined to become a God."
The sun rose higher.
"And of a mortal named Krish… destined to become something more."
Light spilled across mountains. Across cities. Across sleeping faces unaware of destiny stirring among them.
"This…"
The wheel turned.
"…is Krish."
A breath of warmth crossed the world.
"The First Hero."
Mumbai.
[National College of Science and Technology Research.]
NCSTR's Annual Seminar for Science and Research.
The grand hall was packed.
Students, reporters, faculty — all gathered in front of the massive stage. Along the sides, stalls displayed new tech, prototypes, machines quietly running their demos… but almost no one was looking at them.
All eyes stayed fixed on the stage. College professors and special guests sat in a neat row, adjusting their sleeves, exchanging small talks and pleasantries.
But the crowd wasn't here for them, nor for any celebrity that was coming.
The female announcer tapped the mic cleared her throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen… please welcome our professor… our mentor… to give the opening speech of this seminar—"
A pause.
"Dr. Arya."
The hall broke into applause.
Not polite claps — loud, real ones. Some people even stood up.
From the side of the stage, he walked in.
Black suit. Clean. Simple.
Old, yes. But steady.
There was no hurry in his steps. No attempt to impress. Just quiet confidence… almost careless.
He reached the podium, adjusted the mic slightly, glanced at the crowd once.
"Good evening." He said calmly, with a hint of laziness.
The noise settled fast.
"Good evening, students… and my old friends."
A few smiles in the crowd.
"My name is Dr. Arya… as you already know."
Light laughter.
"You are sitting in one of the finest colleges in the world… attending a seminar that does not just contain technology…but also contains the future."
The hall went quiet again.
"Not just the future of India…"
"…but the world."
He rested one hand on the podium.
"But here… at this point… we should ask something simple."
His eyes moved across the crowd.
"Why are we doing this?"
A pause.
"Why are governments investing?"
"Why are private funds private equity is involved?"
"Why are companies spending so much on technology?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"And if you are smart…"
A faint smirk.
"…you already know the answer."
A few voices murmured it.
" Don't go philosophical, it's Money."
The hall laughed.
"Yes. Money."
He traced a small circle in the air with his finger.
"Someone gives you money to create something new."
"You create something new."
"You sell something new ."
"You earn from something new. "
"And then… you invest again, in something new."
His finger completed the circle.
"It's a cycle. That continues."
A small nod.
"A good cycle."
"It encourages people to push forward… to keep building… to keep trying."
Then his hand dropped.
"But…" The room become quiet a little.
"This cycle also has a problem." He looked at everyone.
"You have an idea."
"Something big."
"Something different."
" Something that has the potential that only you can see. And your negotiations skills are as good as the daily news channels in India." And everyone laughs
" Investor will say… no."
A pause.
"He is not wrong."
Arya shrugged lightly.
"It is his money."
"And no one's money is free…"
A beat.
"…except the money you find on the road."
Laughter again.
"You can call that luck…"
"…but who really cares."
He looked straight ahead.
"Your idea… before it becomes reality… is nothing."
A few faces tightened.
"Paper talk."
"A castle in the wind."
"And finding someone willing to fund something unrealistic…"
"…or idealistic…"
He exhaled softly.
"…is difficult."
"Sometimes impossible."
"Most people won't even listen."
He tilted his head.
"Why would they?" His tone free as ever.
"Why would a billionaire… or even a millionaire… give you his time, when he could spend it somewhere else?"
A slight pause.
"On a private jet…"
"…or enjoying life…"
"…instead of listening to nerds talking about some idealistic innovation or just a research on something useless."
A small shrug.
"Not exactly desirable."
The hall laughed louder this time.
Arya let it pass.
"That… is why this exists."
He tapped the podium once.
"This seminar."
"Here… you don't just talk."
"You show."
"You build."
"You present."
"You prove."
His voice steadied.
"What we can become… as a civilization."
Applause started again people cheered.
Soon the clapping faded.
" Now the official speech is over."
A few chuckles.
"Now we talk about the real thing."
He leaned forward just a little.
"It doesn't matter how bizarre your idea is."
"If it helps us move forward…"
"If it takes humanity one step ahead…"
"If it helps us evolve…"
"It is worth it."
A pause.
"It is worth trying."
"Not because it will make you rich…"
"Not because it will make you a millionaire or billionaire…".
"But because it helps us grow." And he looked at everyone.
" It's absolutely worth it. "
Silence.
" Because, without growth…"
"Without innovation…"
"Without evolution…"
His eyes held steady, no longer his casual lazy self.
"We will be left behind."
A breath passed through the hall.
"And remember this."
A final pause.
"Evolution… is the key to survival."
For a second, no one moved.
Then—
The hall erupted.
Louder than before.
Claps echoing across the walls. Some stood again. Some just kept clapping without stopping.
Arya didn't react much, just a casual look on his face.
"And now, the part where you ask questions."
Hands went up almost instantly. Some half-raised, some fully stretched, a few waving like they didn't want to be missed.
And soon a student got the chance.
A student stood up, a bit stiff, a bit existed gripping the mic like it's the world Cup.
"Good evening sir. I'm a big fan on yours." And hearing this people clapped, and Dr. Arya rasied an eye brow.
" Are you sure you that's the line for me." He said looking at the celebrity there, who just laughed it off. Everyone laughed, and the students continues.
" Sir… you said a lot about projects and technology… is there anything you wanted to build… but couldn't… because of lack of budget?"
A few murmurs. Some nods.
Arya paused.
Then he chuckled.
A small one.
He looked down for a second, then back up. Something softer passed across his face, something amusing.
"Well… first of all," he said, "I'm a biologist."
"So technology isn't exactly my forte."
The hall laughed.
He let it settle, then continued.
"Jokes aside…"
He rested his hand on the podium again.
"Yes. There was."
A small pause.
"You might be surprised…"
"…but it was the same research that later got me… and my old friend Rohit… a Nobel Prize."
The hall broke into applause again.
The same student leaned forward slightly, still holding the mic.
"Sir… is it your paper on Meta-Gene?"
Arya looked at him, then smiled faintly. A bit of nostalgia there.
"Yeah… that one."
A pause.
"Unless I forgot another paper that got me a Nobel Prize."
Laughter again.
The student smiled, a little more relaxed now.
"Yes, sir… that one. What's so special about it?"
Arya exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly.
"Another one… who didn't read the textbook."
The hall laughed louder.
He leaned in a little.
"Well…"
"Meta-Gene…"
He tapped the podium once.
"…is what I call the true potential of humanity."
The room quieted again.
"It's something… everyone has."
" it's like a lock."
"A lock that holds the key to human evolution."
His voice slowed a bit.
"Theoretically…"
"…it can turn a human… into something more."
"A manav… into Maha-manav."
The word sat differently in the air.
The student blinked, then asked—
"Like… a superhero?"
A few "ohh" sounds came from the crowd. Some laughed. Many leaned forward, wanting to know this.
Arya tilted his head slightly.
"You can guess why they pulled the funding."
The hall laughed again.
"Who would fund…" he continued, "the idea of a madman…"
"…that wasn't even proven back then?"
A pause.
"But I kept it."
"I kept working."
"Kept pushing."
"Kept going…"
"…even when my own friends didn't believe it."
He looked up again.
"And now… you've seen what happened."
Cheers broke out. Louder this time. Some clapped harder, some just nodded, impressed.
After a moment, the same student raised the mic again.
"Sir… what would happen… if someone actually activates it?"
"…or manages to open that lock?"
The noise died quickly.
Arya didn't answer immediately.
His face changed. Not much — just enough.
Thoughtful.
Quiet.
"I don't know."
No one spoke.
The hall went still.
He smiled, small smile and said.
" My old friend Rohit used to say It's a Pandora's box."
A few heads turned.
"No one knows what happens… when it opens."
He leaned a bit closer.
" Is could be goood or it could be even worse. You can nver know until tou opened it."
" And I myself partly agreed with him."
" I don't know many things about it, But I do know one thing."
A small pause.
"As long as Pandora's box stays closed…"
"…Pandora will keep wondering what's inside."
A faint smile.
"So will we."
He glanced at crowd.
" Our job is to studdy not to judge. We don't just believe what's written, we are people of science. We have to test it before saying it's impossible. Meta-gene is just small hurdle that we will pass at point."
Arya let out a small chuckle.
"And maybe…" he added, looking back at the students,
"…someone already has."
A beat.
"…and we just don't know it yet."
Silence again.
Then—
Applause.
Loud. Continuous. Speech was over, People stood again. Some exchanged looks, some whispered, some just clapped without thinking.
Arya stepped back slightly from the mic.
The sound filled the hall.
And far from the stage…
near the edge of the crowd…
a figure stood still.
Dark.
Unmoving.
Watching.
Himalayas, Nepal – 2022
Far from any city, and heavy settlement.
A man stood at the edge of a snowy cliff.
His turquoise eyes shined like a spotlight. His dhoulder-length hair moved in the calm cold wind.
He closed his eyes and let the warmth of the sun settle on his skin. The rising sun painting his face gold.
"Krishnaaa!" A name echoed in the valley, calling for him.
He looked back.
"I'm coming, Daadi!" he shouted back.
His voice echoing back across valley as well.
He looked at the sun and smirked.
"Wanna race?" And like accepting, sun shines brighter.
" It's on." He bent slightly.
Snow cracked under his feet.
And then he moved.
Fast.Too fast.
He jumped down, the top of the moutain shook, and he started running trees become blurred.
Snow sprayed behind him. He leaped over a stream, ran down a slope, dashed through forest like a streak of light. The forest felt too short for his speed, the mountain small. He kept on racing, he could see the sunlight, just few inches away from him.
He was almost ahead of the sunlight, the city was just in sight. Victory was just a small cliff away.
He jumped.
Airborne.
Then-
Something crossed his eyes.
A small passenger plane in the sky.
He glanced up.
His attention shifting.
He lost focus.
His feet slipped when he landed.
He rolled down a grassy slope.
Grass flew everywhere, a small dirt patch was flung in the air. His body rolled several time, and stopped in a clearing.
He lay there for a second, looking at the sky at the plane. His gaze shifted to the village where the sunshine has already taken his place.
"You won again," he muttered to the sun.
"Pure luck, if wasn't for the plane, I would have won.
He stood up, brushing himself off, ready to leave when his eyes caught a figure standing on nearby stone.
A small boy in Kashmiri clothes stood nearby, arms on his chest looking down at him.
Krishna raised an eyebrow, his face showing he knew he would be there, nut didn't want to see him there.
"What did you see Chintu ?"
The boy, Chintu grinned. "Nothing, like always. Heard nothing, like always. Saw nothing, like always." And the boy unfolded his hands.
"But, I want something. Like always."
"You're becoming greedy, Chintu." Krishna walked towards him.
"I'm just feeding my stomach." Chintu said and saw what Krishna offered.
Krishna held out berry chocolates.
Krishna snatched one before offering, and the kid Chintu seeing this, raised his head.
" What's this? This is the third time this week that you raced the sun, and almost win." He crossed his arms.
" I need more." And hearing this, Krishna took back his candys and said to himself.
" Daadi was right, kids are demons." And he pocketed them.
"Let's go. I'll give you Bournvita."
"What's that?"
"You wanna be strong like me?"
"Obviously."
"Then you drink Bournvita."
They walked toward the village.
Krishna's house was small. Two floors. Stone and wood. Backyard with a fireplace.
He entered dramatically. "Dasdi! I'm home!" He called. And old woman's voice came from the backyard saying the breakfast is in the table eat it. Krishna replied he will and entered the kitchen.
In the kitchen, he grabbed the two glasses, and started juggling it. Milk bottle spinning. Bournvita tin flipping. He was doing this fully focused and with ease.
When suddenly.
Chintu jumped in with a bang.
Krishna lost focus, and the metal glass slipped from his hand and made that classic sound of dishes falling.
Both froze.
Daadi stepped in with a broom in hand . "What happened? What fell? "
Krishna seeing the broom didn't think, pointed at Chintu instantly. "He did it." Daadi looked at Chintu broom raised.
Chintu gasped immediately takes a step back. "Don't talk nonsense I'm not wven in the kitchen, and oh please. You were juggling like some circus uncle." Dsadi shifted looking at Krishna.
Krishna immediately denied that.
" He is lying, it's on his face. You know how naughty kids are. I told him stop but he didn't listen, you know how he is, alwaya making a fuzz." Daadi looked back, Chintu didn't take this lightly.
" How am I? How are you? And I'm the one who makes a fuzz, did you forget who are you."
Krishna didn't want to get beaten, so he come up with a brilliant idea.
" Chintu stop lying. " Than he looked at Daadi, and said.
" Don't worry Daadi I'll take care of him." And he planed to take him out, and pretend teaching him a lesson saving both pr them.
But who was Chintu. Seeing him about to be surrounded by both Grandson and grandma.
He immediately started listing everything. How he races the sun. How he fall from the water fall. How he jumps cliffs. How he chases wolves. How he tries to catch airplanes. And that time he fell from the cliff, I thought he was goner and how he was talking about going to city-
"Chintu! Get lost. " Krishna snapped, ready to trow him out. This kid actually dare to say the truth even after eating his chocolate. He wanted to beat this kid to death but before he could do that Daadi grabbed his ear.
"Ow—Dadi!" Krishna immediately wailled.
"What you! What did chintu say, what we're you up to?"
" He is lying Dadi."
She tightened her grip.
" Dadi please, I'm your only grandson, why would I do that?" And Daadi instead of releasing tighten her grip.
" Still lying, don't I know when my only grandson is lying. " And Krishna begged her to let go.
" Daadi!! don't you remember you told me you won't hit me when I'm older."
" You remember this, but don't remember what I told about wolves? About mountains? And what's this racing the sun stuff ?"
"I wasn't racing." He twisted, trying to lessen the pain.
" What this about you being a goner?"
" Daadi listen what -" She didn't.
" What did I say about going in the mountains and city? What did I told you about it."
"Ahh! Wolves will eat me! Mountains have ghosts! Dadi, PLEASE!"
She finally let go.
He rubbed his ear, and mumbled.
" I just wanted to see the city? " he said quietly.
Dadi's face changed.
" What did you say?"
" Nothing." He immediately said, seeing her broom high again, a defeated look on his face, and said again.
" Why can't I go to city?"
" Are you questioning me?" Krishna instinctively takes a step back, but stoped, and stood firm for moment. Hie eyes resolute.
"All my friends left for the city. I'm stuck here. No phone. No job. No nothing. You told me you'll give me a phone when I'm big enough. How tall you want me to grow? I'm touching the celling. " And his voice soften.
" I don't even have anyone to talk with." And from a corner, chintu interjected.
" I'm hear." And hearing their, Krishna glared at him his voice back.
" You hadn't gone yet." And Chintu hid behind the door, poorly.
"Just tell me why I can't leave."
" You've grown too much. Now you question me?"
She looked away, hiding her tears.
Krishna looked at her, his hand outstretched for comfort, but he stopped himself. He turned. And walked out.
He sat on a rock outside the village, plucking petals from a flower, his mood not very good.
"You said too much," Chintu said.
Krishna threw the flower at his face. "It's your fault."
" My fault heow?"
"If you hadn't said me—"
" You are literally the one racing the sun, not my fault I saw you everytime I did. And she is Daadi she will eventually know. Think about if the next door aunt that this Insted of me."
Krishna groaned, he had to admit he is kinda right. " I missed momos. Now who's gonna eat them, werewolves?"
"I can eat them."
Another flower hit Chintu's face.
" I can eat them!" Krishna said in kid like voice.
" Get lost, useless." Chintu didn't like that.
"Fine than, I won't tell you the awesome news I have."
Krishna turned his interest picked "What news?"
"Nothing what news I can know. I'm
useless."
" Chintu just say it." Krishna said in annoyance, And in response, Chintu turned back. Krishna sighs and said in most fake sweet voice.
" Hey dear genius chintu, what's that awesome news?"
Chintu smirked. "Okay but I want that Bournvita of yours, for ...umm three.." He said little undisided.
" Four days."
" Ok two days."
" Deal." Krishna immediately said. And Chintu feeled tricked.
" Wait what does four means. KRISHNA!" He didn't understand the English word FOUR.
They walked down Market Street. Krishna on the road. Chintu balancing on the boundary wall on th side of the road, matching the heights, getting eyes to eyes with Krishna.
" Ther is lot of city people in the hillside," Chintu said. "I saw them taking blood of people and . Giving food in return. They even gave me chocolate."
"Taking blood? Why are they taking blood?"
"Drinking it, what else?"
Krishna stared at him. "No one drinks blood."
" City people did. My mom told me. She also said they hunt beautiful kids like me to look cool and sell there kidnies."
"Who else called you beautiful except yours mom?"
" No one. But that's not the point."
He stopped walking.
"You'll help me get free stuff, just give them few drops and in return i,,, i imean we can get some good food." And hearing this Krishna wasn't intrested.
" That's it? I don't wanna give my blood to city people to drink, and is this awesome news you said about?" And hearing this chintu asked.
" So you won't gonna help me?"
" Of course not." And he started walking back.
" Think again, if you don't help me, I tell Dadi about what you did yesterday."
Krishna stopped, his steps halted, and he replied without turning. "That's why you didn't tell Daadi that earlier?"
" No way, that news worth more than my satisfaction." Chintu said looking proud.
Krishna turned and looked at him with kind smile.
" You know. I can just vanishe you in the woods, no one would find out." Hearing this, Chintu didn't panick, he pulled out a letter. That after lot of nonsense said.
"If I disappear, it's Krishna's fault."
Krishna tore it.
" Now what?" Chnitu smiled, and took out three more. Krishna didn't waste time, he snatched them and turned them into waste paper flying in the air. Chintu didn't panick showed ten more copies.
"Do you print pamphlets?"
"Can't take risks."
He hopped off the wall and started running.
"Come on! Free stuff doesn't wait!" And Krishna watched him leave.