There are many forms of apocalypse.
Temporal collapse.
Biomechanical invasions.
Ancient gods waking beneath the Arctic.
The Null Sovereign.
The end of time itself.
But none—
none—
compared to this.
Saturday morning.
9:00 AM.
Delhi.
And Aarav's mother was standing at the front door holding her handbag.
Ready.
Prepared.
Radiating the unstoppable force known as Indian wedding shopping.
Aarav stood in the hallway like a man awaiting public execution.
Rohan, who had somehow invited himself, was already eating biscuits and enjoying the funeral.
"This", he announced proudly, "is my favourite arc."
Traitor.
Professional traitor.
His sister sat on the sofa, recording everything for blackmail purposes.
His father had wisely disappeared to "important office work", proving once again that survival came from experience.
Coward.
Ancient coward.
His mother adjusted her dupatta and delivered the decree.
"Everyone ready?"
No one was ready.
Especially not the future wives.
Aelina stood near the stairs wearing a simple, elegant kurti that her mother had forced upon her that morning.
She looked beautiful and deeply confused by traditional embroidery.
Mira wore dark blue and looked like she might assassinate fashion itself.
Selene stood in a black suit so regal she looked like she was attending a royal war summit.
And Nysera—
Nysera, in a white saree-inspired outfit, looked like a divine being had accidentally joined a middle-class family function.
This was unfair.
Cosmically unfair.
Rohan whispered to Aarav,
"If you survive this, propose immediately."
Aarav whispered back,
"I would rather fight another Titan Hunter."
Reasonable.
Very reasonable.
His mother clapped once.
"Let's go."
No escape.
No negotiations.
Only destiny.
The market was alive.
Crowded streets.
Jewellery shops are glowing under golden lights.
Fabric stores are exploding with colours.
Relatives appear from nowhere like side quests.
The perfect battlefield.
The moment they arrived, Aarav knew he had made a terrible mistake.
Because his mother was in her natural habitat.
She walked with the confidence of a military commander entering occupied territory.
Shopkeepers greeted her like an old legend returning.
One man actually stood straighter.
Terrifying.
Rohan whispered,
"She has reputation points here."
Absolutely.
The girls followed closely.
All of them are trying to understand why selecting fabric requires the emotional intensity of international diplomacy.
Aelina observed everything like research.
Mira looked offended by bargaining as a concept.
Selene treated each shop like strategic terrain.
Nysera somehow looked like she owned all of it.
His mother entered the first saree shop.
The owner smiled.
"Namaste, bhabhi ji!"
Then he saw the group behind her.
Then Aarav.
Then the girls.
His smile became spiritual.
Ah.
Information had spread.
Fast.
Dangerously fast.
His mother sat like a queen, claiming territory.
"Show us your best."
For one terrifying second, Aarav thought she meant clothes.
She did not.
She meant everything.
Within minutes, silk, lehengas, sarees, jewellery, and judgement covered every visible surface.
Rohan sat in the corner with snacks.
"Witnessing history."
Mira held up a heavily embroidered red lehenga and looked personally betrayed.
"How is this legal?"
His mother answered immediately.
"Beauty requires sacrifice."
Selene nodded like she understood battlefield logic.
"Acceptable."
Mira stared at her.
"You are adapting too quickly."
Aelina, meanwhile, had been trapped by aunties.
Three of them.
No escape.
One aunt pinched her cheek and asked,
"So beta, what do you do?"
Aelina answered honestly.
"I was designed as an advanced biotech future-human prototype."
Silence.
Aunties blinked.
Then one nodded.
"Engineer?"
Aelina looked at Aarav.
Aarav nodded weakly.
"Yes. Engineer."
Close enough.
Very close enough.
Across the shop, Selene was being shown bridal jewellery.
The shopkeeper nervously asked,
"Madam, gold or diamond preference?"
Selene answered with complete seriousness.
"Which one is more effective in psychological warfare?"
The poor man almost retired on the spot.
Nysera was worse.
Because every aunt loved her instantly.
One aunt whispered loudly to Aarav's mother.
"This silver-haired one… she looks like destiny."
His mother replied,
"That is exactly the problem."
True.
Painfully true.
Then—
the disaster.
His mother called out loudly,
"Aarav, come here."
No.
Absolutely not.
That tone never led to peace.
He walked over like a condemned man.
His mother pointed.
Four outfits.
One for each girl.
All beautiful.
All expensive.
All dangerous.
"Choose."
Silence.
The entire shop stopped breathing.
Even strangers were invested now.
Rohan stood up.
Live audience.
His sister was probably livestreaming spiritually.
Aarav stared.
This was not shopping.
This was war.
Aelina looked politely nervous.
Mira looked like she would accept rejection by murder.
Selene looked calm enough to make it worse.
Nysera looked like she had already seen the outcome in another century.
No pressure.
None at all.
Aarav pointed randomly at the safest-looking option.
Blue.
Elegant.
Simple.
Aelina.
His mother nodded.
Good.
Safe.
Then—
"Next."
Disaster continued.
He chose dark violet.
Mira.
She looked away too quickly.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Then gold-black.
Selene.
She gave one approving nod like he had passed military inspection.
And finally—
white and silver.
Nysera.
She smiled as someone was watching prophecy complete itself.
Terrible.
Absolutely terrible.
Rohan clapped slowly.
"Bro is speedrunning arranged marriage."
His mother ignored him.
Then she delivered the true finishing move.
She looked at the shopkeeper and said—
"Pack all four."
Aarav blinked.
"What?"
His mother didn't even look at him.
"Obviously."
"Obviously?"
She turned.
Calm.
Terrifying.
"If my son is collecting future wives, at least they will dress properly."
There it was.
Public death.
Complete.
Absolute.
Even the shopkeeper respected it.
The aunties had already accepted fate.
Rohan sat back down and whispered,
"I would pay for season two."
And somewhere—
The First Origin probably looked down from cosmic peace and said,
"Good luck, brother."
Because this?
This was beyond divine intervention.