The boundary between the past and the present had begun to blur. What once felt like a straight road now twisted into countless paths, each leading to memories long buried, truths half-forgotten, and destinies waiting to awaken. Prabhas could feel it, something ancient was stirring, and with every passing moment, the past was inching closer to the present.
Would he be able to untangle it all? From this point onward, fragments of earlier lives would begin to surface, visions, emotions, and histories woven together through the mysterious glass ball. What Prabhas and Ramakanth were witnessing was not merely memory, but the collective echoes of human civilization itself. Time no longer moved in a straight line; it folded in on itself. So, the story of then and now began to merge.
That morning, Prabhas stepped into the classroom with a renewed energy that surprised even him. The children sensed it instantly. His voice carried warmth, enthusiasm, and a quiet intensity, as though he wasn't merely teaching facts,but reliving them. "Children," he began, walking slowly across the room, "human beings were not always as you see them today."
The students leaned forward. "Millions of years ago, our ancestors resembled monkeys. Their bodies slowly changed, not overnight, but through continuous adaptation to climate and environment. As the body evolved, so did the brain. With a growing brain came curiosity… and with curiosity came ideas."
He spoke of evolution not as dry history, but as a living journey. "The invention of tools, the ability to think creatively, to imagine beyond survival, these were the first sparks of civilization." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Among all inventions, two changed the fate of humanity forever, the discovery of fire and the invention of the wheel."
The children's eyes widened. "Fire allowed humans to cook food, stay warm, and protect themselves. Slowly, nomadic lives turned into settlements. People began staying in one place. Communities were born."
He continued, describing how the wheel transformed travel, how tribes moved across lands, how some chose to wander while others stayed behind the farm. "Villages emerged. Agriculture began, wheat, rice, and grains. Yet even then, humans depended on rain. Nature was both their friend and their master."
Just as the lesson reached its peak, Clang! The school bell rang. A collective sigh filled the room. "Sir!" one child protested. "Please continue tomorrow." Prabhas smiled gently, though exhaustion tugged at him. The children left reluctantly, still buzzing with questions, their minds alight with ancient fires and rolling wheels. He remained seated for a moment, breathing deeply. Teaching had drained him, but it had also awakened something deeper.
That night, the sky stretched endlessly above him. Stars scattered across the darkness like frozen snowflakes, glowing softly, unmoving, like an old photograph capturing eternity in a single frame. Prabhas stood outside, letting the cool wind run through his hair, turning it wild and untamed.
He imagined himself drifting beyond the known universe, watching galaxies collide and stars dance in cosmic chaos. Out there, the universe was alive, restless, choreographed in beautiful disorder. But here… everything was still.
Leaning against a windswept tree, his arms wrapped around its rough bark, Prabhas tilted his head back. The constellations, silent witnesses to centuries and millennia, looked down upon him, unchanged, observing yet another fleeting human moment. For reasons he couldn't explain, his heart felt heavy and peaceful at the same time. He eventually turned and walked home.
After freshening up, relief washed over him. The fatigue eased, replaced by the comforting aroma of coffee. Ramakanth entered the room, carrying a cup made from freshly ground beans grown in their own garden. "This will help," he said with a smile. It did. As Prabhas sipped, warmth spread through his body, and courage through his mind.
"Father," he finally asked, "why did you contact Aunt through telepathy?" Ramakanth grew quiet. "I wasn't planning to," he admitted. "While practicing telepathy, I received a strange signal, unlike anything I had felt before. It wasn't from the present… it came from the past." Prabhas stiffened. "With the help of the glass ball," Ramakanth continued, "I realized the signal belonged to Shashank. Through him, I could connect to your sister."
He paused, his eyes distant. "When I looked deeper, I saw that the people in the past were interconnected. Memories aren't just stored in the brain, Prabhas, they're stored in the heart." Prabhas listened, breath held. "When I saw you, your mother, and myself in those memories, I felt something undeniable," Ramakanth said softly. "We were meant to be reborn."
Prabhas frowned. "That doesn't happen accidentally, Father." Ramakanth nodded. "You're right." That morning, he explained, he had gone to the old library near Prabhas's academy, searching for ancient texts on witchcraft and experimental science. "Near the entrance," he said, "Mr. Parker had opened a small pen-drive manufacturing unit. It seemed ordinary." But inside the library, something wasn't. "I noticed a strange mechanism behind one of the shelves. A single word was written on it—PUSH."Curiosity had won.
"The moment I pressed it, the wall shifted. The shelf rotated, revealing a hidden tunnel." Prabhas's eyes widened. "I entered," Ramakanth continued. "Inside, there were trees, advanced equipment… scientists and doctors walking around as if it were normal." Then,"I saw Rishi." At first, Rishi hadn't recognized him. "When I told him everything, about time travel, about the future, he was shaken." Rishi then revealed his own past.
After being blacklisted from the hospital due to an illegal organ transplant, his life had fallen apart. A grieving woman had accused him of killing her son during surgery. The operation, transplanting a dying child's heart into another patient, had failed. "The humiliation broke him," Ramakanth said. "He fled to the Middle East, desperate to restore his name."
It was during that time he had crossed paths with Ramakanth, and fate had taken its course. "I apologized to him," Ramakanth said quietly. "He told him he could contact me anytime." But Rishi had another purpose.
"He told me," Ramakanth continued, "that two girls exist in this world—twins, around twenty years old." Prabhas's heart skipped. "They were not naturally born," Ramakanth said gravely. "They are test-tube babies. Their emotions are sealed. Their five senses and organs do not function properly." Prabhas felt cold.
"Two scientists created them," Ramakanth said. "The male scientist is unknown. The female scientist is hiding behind false identities. And Rishi is being blamed." "Why does he want to find them?" Prabhas asked.
"To save them," Ramakanth replied. "And to protect them from the real culprit." Silence filled the room. Then Ramakanth spoke the words that changed everything. "My sister's son can only be rescued with their help. Even then, survival is uncertain. Those girls are the key."
Prabhas whispered, "So… they're connected to us?" Ramakanth nodded. "Yes, my son. I can feel it." The night grew heavier with questions.
Who were the twins? What was their true connection to Prabhas and Ramakanth? Who was the scientist capable of such cruelty?
Why did fate bind all of them together, across time, memory, and rebirth?
The past had begun to lead them forward. The answers were waiting. Will Prabhas and Ramakanth find the twins? What secrets lie sealed within their hearts? How far will the past go to reclaim the present? The story has only just begun.