Mumbai, 6:32 PM – One day before Arjun’s fifteenth birthday The city buzzed around him—horns blaring, chaiwalas shouting orders, and trains rumbling in the distance. Arjun moved through the chaos like a shadow, his school bag slung over one shoulder, his hoodie pulled low to block the evening sun. He preferred the noise. It helped drown out the silence in his head. He cut across the alley behind the railway station, jumping over a puddle of oily rainwater. Just as he passed an old electric pole, something fluttered down and smacked him on the head. “Ugh—what the…” He looked up. Nothing. He looked down. A letter. No name. No address. Just a strange spiral symbol where a stamp should be. The paper was yellowed and rough, like it had been pulled from an ancient book. Arjun turned it over once, twice. His eyes narrowed. Then he grunted, shoved it in the side pocket of his bag, and forgot about it. ________________________________________ That night, something felt off. The streetlight outside his rented room flickered like a heartbeat. He couldn't sleep. He’d tossed and turned for hours, a thin sheet clinging to his sweat-soaked body, the ceiling fan whining above him. When he finally drifted off, it was like falling—not sleeping. ________________________________________ When he opened his eyes again… He was cold. No fan. No bed. No city. Only wind. Trees. Sky. Arjun sat up with a jerk, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs. He was lying on a rough wooden floor, wrapped in an old wool blanket that wasn’t his. The walls were thin and crooked, barely held together by rusted nails and tree bark. A tiny shed. A leaking roof. Morning mist curling under the gaps in the planks. “What the hell…” He stepped out. The air was sharp, almost too clean. Before him lay a vast mountain plain, stretching far into the horizon. To his left, tall trees whispered secrets in a language the city had long forgotten. To his right, a narrow path spiraled down through rocks and moss. But it was what lay ahead that made his breath catch. A city. Not like Mumbai. Not like anything he had ever seen. Far below, nestled in a giant valley, was a glowing, circular metropolis. Towering spires pierced the clouds. Roads shimmered like flowing rivers of light. And surrounding it all, five colossal towers stood like ancient guardians, pulsing with energy. It was a city that didn’t belong to his world. And somehow… Somehow, Arjun had arrived at the edge of something that felt like a story waiting to begin.