Consciousness didn’t snap back all at once; it dragged me up from the bottom of a very deep, very cold ocean. The first thing I registered was the soft, rhythmic hum of unfamiliar medical equipment, followed by the distant sound of wind and birds that definitely didn't sound like Hyderabad. Everything hurt. My ribs ached with a dull, throbbing fire, my shoulder burned like it had been dipped in acid, and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.
I forced my eyes open, blinking against the soft ambient lighting, and immediately noticed that the bed I was lying on wasn't actually touching the floor. It was hovering a good three inches above the ground, suspended by some kind of silent, glowing magnetic field.
"...Okay," I croaked to the empty room, my voice sounding like crushed gravel. "...Either I'm dead... or hospitals got a ridiculous upgrade."
I slowly turned my head, taking in a room that completely broke my brain's ability to categorize it. It wasn't futuristic, and it wasn't ancient; it was both, existing in a state of perfect, natural harmony. The walls were warm, polished wood covered in intricate, traditional carvings, but they were interlaced with elegant, matte-black alloys and soft, holographic medical readouts that floated in the air. There were potted plants sitting on carved stone pedestals next to stacks of actual, physical paper books.
That was when I noticed the girl.
She was curled up in a plush chair in the corner, fast asleep, with a thick textbook lying open across her lap. The cover clearly read Sigil Theory — Foundations, and her hand was still loosely gripping a yellow highlighter like she had lost a brutal battle against sleep. Despite the ache in my chest, I couldn't help but smile at the sheer, relatable normalcy of it.
I shifted my weight, and a sudden, violent cough ripped through my dry throat.
Her eyes snapped open. She looked at me, froze completely, and dropped the highlighter.
I offered a weak, pathetic little wave. "...Hi."
She stared at me for one agonizing second, then scrambled out of the chair, dropped the book on the floor, and bolted out the door.
"...Okay," I muttered to the ceiling. "Ten out of ten for bedside manner."
Within minutes, the room flooded with medical staff, and the vibe instantly shifted from sterile hospital to chaotic family reunion. They were incredibly relieved, cracking jokes and checking my vitals with a warmth that completely disarmed me. One of the nurses actually patted my shoulder and told me to rest up, then handed me a steaming mug of hot chocolate because, apparently, tea just wasn't cutting it today.
It took about twenty minutes of sipping the best hot chocolate of my life before I casually asked how long I'd been out.
"A week," the lead doctor said gently, adjusting a floating holographic chart. "You took quite a hit, Krish."
My stomach instantly dropped through the mattress. "A week? Wait, where's my aunt? Where's Naomi?"
The room went dead silent. The warm, bustling energy vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a heavy, suffocating quiet. Nobody looked me in the eye. Nobody answered. And in that terrible, ringing silence, I already understood.
I stared at my hot chocolate until the surface stopped rippling, the grief hitting me so hard it physically knocked the breath out of my lungs. The door slid open quietly, and Taara peeked her head in, looking incredibly embarrassed and clutching a stack of towels.
"I'm sorry I ran," she mumbled, walking over and sitting in the chair she’d vacated earlier. "I'm Taara. I volunteered to stay with you because someone needed to be here when you woke up."
I didn't wait for a sympathy moment. I just looked at her, my brain desperately needing answers to anchor itself. "Where am I? Who are you? What is this place? What happened? Why am I here? What did Naomi mean?"
Taara sighed, setting the towels aside and leaning forward. "Meruzhen isn't a city, Krish. It isn't a nation, and it's not hidden because it's magical."
"Then why is it hidden?"
"Because humanity cannot be allowed to interfere with it," she explained quietly. "It exists across Nine Citadels, each serving a different purpose. Medical, research, training, archives, diplomacy, engineering. You're currently inside the Ninth Citadel. The war and combat training center."
I stared at her, my brain struggling to process the sheer scale of what she was saying. "...Where is this?"
"The Himalayas," she answered casually, like she was telling me we were in the next suburb.
I actually laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "No."
She nodded solemnly. "Yes. Ancient sigils combined with modern concealment technology. Protective barriers that make the entire valley invisible to the outside world."
She went on to explain that thousands of years ago, after endless, devastating conflicts between Devas, Asuras, and humanity, a group of wise leaders realized that another victory would just destroy the world. Instead of fighting for dominance, they chose balance. From that ancient alliance came Meruzhen, a hidden civilization dedicated to preserving that balance during the dark age of Kali Yuga.
"It isn't ruled by one god, and it belongs to no kingdom," she said, her voice filled with a quiet reverence. "Its loyalty is to balance itself. The Meruzhen Protocol is the active organization here. Scientists, historians, doctors, warriors. Everyone serves. Not everyone fights, but everyone contributes."
I took a deep breath, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "So... what exactly am I?"
Taara paused, realizing that explaining this verbally was going to be a disaster. She spotted a large, glass diagnostic board on the wall, grabbed a marker, and turned toward it.
She quickly drew a simple flow chart, labeling the top branch Divine Legacies. Under it, she drew three paths: Incarnations, Bloodlines, and Blessed Mortals.
"Your biological parents were human," she said, pointing to the bottom branch. "They were Blessed Mortals. Humans chosen and blessed to protect Meruzhen. They didn't possess warrior souls, but they dedicated their lives to protecting those who did. Naomi was one of them."
She moved her marker to the top branch, tapping it firmly. "But the soul you carry... belongs to one of Agni's ancient warrior-sons."
She quickly turned to look at me, realizing how that sounded. "Not his DNA. His soul. You're the newest incarnation. That's why your Sigil awakened under trauma, and that's why you're a demigod."
I just stared at the board, blinking slowly. "...My biology teacher would've hated this lesson."
Taara stepped back to admire her work, nodding proudly at the flowchart. Then she froze, her eyes widening in absolute horror as she looked at the marker in her hand.
"...Oh no."
I blinked, sitting up a little straighter. "What?"
"I used permanent marker..." she whispered, her voice rising in panic. "Oh, the physicians are going to kill me. This is a diagnostic board, I can't just draw on it!"
Without even thinking, I took a sip of my hot chocolate and shrugged. "Coffee."
She stopped panicking and stared at me like I had lost my mind. "What?"
"Dip a kerchief in coffee and rub it," I said casually, like I was recommending a good snack. "The mild acids help weaken the ink. The friction does the rest. Basic chemistry."
Taara just stared at me, her mouth slightly open. "...You know that's weird, right?"
I just shrugged again. "I read."
A nurse walking past the open doorway paused, looked at the board, and nodded. "...He's right. Coffee works."
Taara let out a long, dramatic sigh, dropping her head into her hands. "...I hate that he's right."
She walked over to the massive window and pulled back the heavy curtains, letting the golden afternoon light flood the room. The Ninth Citadel stretched out before us, and the breath literally caught in my throat.
It was a breathtaking collision of worlds. Sky bridges connected towering ancient temples to sleek, advanced laboratories. Lush gardens and water channels wove through massive training grounds where students were practicing with glowing weapons. Flying transports zipped through the air, all of it embraced by the towering, snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas. The place felt alive, warm, and impossibly beautiful.
I stood up, walking slowly to the glass, the hot chocolate warming my hands as I looked out at the impossible civilization. For the first time since Naomi died, the crushing weight in my chest eased just a fraction.
"...Can I ever go home?" I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off the valley.
Taara stepped up beside me, looking out at the sprawling citadel. "You'll always have a home, Krish."
She glanced at me, her expression softening. "And... if you'll let it... maybe one day this can become one too."
I didn't answer right away. I just stood there in the quiet room, sipping my coffee, looking at the place that was going to shape the rest of my life.
ns216.73.216.248da2
and then Add to home screen.