There are conversations a man should never allow.
Politics at weddings.
Family group chats after midnight.
Letting grandmothers imagine grandchildren.
And yet—
Aarav had failed at all three.
Which was why, at exactly 9:14 PM, while peacefully trying to drink tea and recover from life—
His grandmother walked into the living room, sat down like destiny, wearing a sari, and said the following:
"We should discuss baby names."
Silence.
Then—
Aarav nearly dropped the tea.
Mira looked like her soul had briefly left her body.
Rohan, who had absolutely no legal reason to still be in the house, whispered—
"Season finale energy."
Traitor.
Professional traitor.
His mother calmly continued cutting fruit.
Which meant she supported this terrorism.
His father looked toward the front door.
Too late.
No escape.
His sister opened her notes app like a demon opening scripture.
His younger cousin screamed,
"BABY ARC CONTINUES!"
Denied.
Spiritually denied.
Grandmother folded her hands.
Peaceful.
Terrifying.
"I am only planning."
Mira, somehow still holding dignity together with sheer force, answered—
"With respect…"
A pause.
"…there is currently no child."
Grandmother nodded.
"Yes."
Another pause.
"That is why planning is required."
Unstoppable logic.
Impossible to defeat.
Even Orion, former destroyer of timelines, looked at Aarav with sympathy.
That was how bad it was.
Aarav tried diplomacy.
"Dadi…"
She raised one hand.
He stopped.
Because of the bloodline survival instinct.
She pointed at Mira.
"She is intelligent."
True.
"She argues properly."
Also true.
"She will produce children who can survive this family."
A horrifyingly valid point.
Rohan clapped once.
"Genetic strategy."
No one wanted his commentary.
He continued anyway.
Aarav whispered,
"I am begging the universe."
Universe unavailable.
Please try later.
Then—
because fate hated him—
Nysera entered.
Carrying tea.
Smiling.
Suspicious.
Always suspicious.
She sat down and, after hearing exactly three words of context, said—
"Oh. Names."
No.
Not oh.
Never, oh.
Grandmother brightened.
Dangerous sign.
"Yes. You are from the farthest future. Useful."
Nysera nodded like a consultant arriving for a corporate merger.
"In several timeline branches, this discussion happens much earlier."
Aarav stood up.
"No."
Too late.
Far too late.
His grandmother leaned forward.
"Tell me."
Nysera sipped tea.
Calmly.
Traitorously.
"Well…"
She looked at Aarav.
Then Mira.
Then, with the absolute peace of someone detonating a bomb politely—
"If the first child is a girl…"
A pause.
"…the highest probability name is Aarya."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The room froze.
Even the fan.
Mira blinked.
Aarav forgot the language.
His mother repeated softly—
"Aarya…"
Testing it.
Approving it.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
His grandmother nodded slowly.
"Beautiful."
His sister was already typing it somewhere permanent.
Rohan whispered,
"Brother, the future has paperwork."
This was not life anymore.
This was prophecy with snacks.
Aarav pointed at Nysera.
"You are banned from predictions."
She smiled.
"That has historically not worked."
True.
Annoyingly true.
Then—
Grandmother asked the worst question.
"And if it is a boy?"
Nysera, still too calm for civilisation, answered—
"Arin."
Silence again.
His father lowered the newspaper.
Rare.
Historic.
"Strong name."
BETRAYAL.
PATERNAL BETRAYAL.
His mother nodded.
"Yes. Balanced."
This family was building fictional grandchildren like a government project.
Mira sat there like a woman reconsidering every choice that led to this bloodline.
Reasonable.
Very reasonable.
She finally said—
"I would like to remind everyone…"
A pause.
"…we are not even officially engaged."
His mother looked up.
Calm.
Terrifying.
"Emotionally, yes."
No defence existed.
None.
Selene, who had been silent until now, chose violence.
"If names are being chosen, combat training should also be considered."
Silence.
Everyone turned.
She remained serious.
"I volunteer."
Grandmother nodded.
"Good."
Absolutely not.
No child deserved that much intensity.
Aelina, trying and failing to restore sanity, smiled softly.
"Perhaps we should let them survive dating first."
Thank you.
Finally.
A voice of reason.
His grandmother waved her hand.
"They have time for dating. I have experience."
Unbeatable.
Ancient final boss logic.
Then—
because this family had no respect for human peace—
Mira looked at Aarav.
Long.
Quiet.
And asked—
"…Do you like those names?"
Death.
Immediate death.
Because now it wasn't a joke.
Now it was real.
A possibility.
A future with shape.
A house.
Children.
A life.
Something warm.
Something terrifying.
He looked at her.
At the woman who had arrived from another century, carrying survival in her bones and sarcasm in her soul.
And for one dangerous second—
He imagined it.
She's in the kitchen arguing over breakfast.
His mother is stealing their child emotionally.
Rohan is teaching bad habits.
Selene turns the school sports day into military training.
Nysera is predicting report cards.
Chaos.
Complete chaos.
And somehow—
peace.
He answered honestly.
"Yes."
Silence.
Soft this time.
Not embarrassing.
Just true.
Aarav smiled faintly.
"I do."
Mira looked away first.
Again.
Victory.
Tiny.
Beautiful.
Then she muttered—
"...Aarya is better."
The room exploded.
Rohan screamed.
His sister fell off the sofa.
His grandmother pointed dramatically—
"See?! Progress!"
His mother smiled like a woman who had already mentally bought toys.
Even Orion looked impressed.
Former apocalypse.
Current witness.
Aarav laughed because, honestly—
What else was left?
This ridiculous family had somehow taken the end of time and turned it into future baby names over tea.
And maybe—
Maybe that was the point.
Not surviving the future.
Building one.
Messy.
Human.
Loved.
And somewhere in that chaos—
Mira was still sitting beside him.
Not leaving.
Choosing to stay.
That mattered more than prophecy.
Even if prophecy came with names.
Especially then.