In the current moment, on a small blue planet called Earth, nestled within the Milky Way galaxy in a quiet corner of the vast universe, something ancient stirred.
Earth, a planet brimming with noise, color, and chaos. A place where life bloomed in unpredictable ways and time ticked steadily forward. No one suspected that the echoes of the universe's birth still whispered here—that something older than stars might choose a shy boy from India as the bearer of cosmic balance.
And yet, the story begins.
"I swear, if one more person bumps into me without apologizing, I'm going to vanish like Itachi in a cloud of smoke," muttered Aaryan as he adjusted his glasses for the sixth time that morning.
Aaryan Verma, nineteen, student at Vardhan Institute of Science and Arts, was not poor but also far from wealthy. He owned exactly three pairs of jeans, could recite entire anime episodes by heart, and had a solid group of friends who thought he was hilarious—once he came out of his shell.
To strangers, Aaryan was invisible. Shy. Quiet. The kind of guy who wore slightly oversized hoodies and laughed to himself at jokes no one else heard. But to those who knew him, he was the guy who'd lend you notes, defend your favorite anime, and impersonate professors with frightening accuracy.
He was also, perhaps most importantly, the son of Professor Pradeep Verma, the mild-mannered but brilliant astronomy lecturer at the same college.
That came with benefits: free lunch on campus, an automatic seat in the front row, and the uncomfortable fact that nearly every professor knew him by name. Including the ones who hadn't even taught him yet.
But none of that mattered today. Because today, something… shifted.
It started during a casual stroll between classes.
Aaryan had taken the usual shortcut behind the old planetarium—a dome-shaped building long out of use, locked and forgotten, with cracks spiderwebbing its windows and a rusted sign that read "Vardhan Observatory, est. 1957."
He often came this way to avoid the crowd, preferring the quiet rustling of peepal trees and the comfort of solitude. It was one of the few places on campus where you could hear yourself think.
And today, he needed to think.
He had just seen Priya and Aniket together again.
He didn't even like Priya—not really—but there was something about seeing someone you kind of had a crush on laughing with someone objectively better looking that triggered ancient, primal feelings. Mostly embarrassment and regret.
He kicked a stone, watching it roll lazily across the cracked concrete.
That's when he heard it.
Tick.
A single, echoing tick—like a clock.
But it was too loud. Too deep. It felt like it ticked inside his bones, not just his ears.
Aaryan froze.
He looked around. Nothing moved. No wind. No birds. Just the silence after the tick.
And then—
Tock.
He turned slowly.
The planetarium door. The rusted one. It was open.
Not wide. Just enough.
Aaryan stared. No one ever went in there. It had been locked since before he joined college. Some said there was mold or radiation or even a snake infestation. It was practically myth.
But the door was open now.
Inviting.
Tick.
His hand moved before his brain decided. He pushed the door.
Inside, it was dark, dust-filled. A forgotten temple to the stars. Broken telescopes, peeling paint, and the ghost of scientific ambition.
But at the center of the room, beneath the broken dome where moonlight spilled in like divine spotlight, sat an object.
A watch.
Old. Grandfather-style. Floating above the cracked floor, suspended in the air, ticking.
Aaryan took a step.
Then another.
He reached toward it—and the moment his fingers brushed the air around it, time stuttered.
Not stopped.
Stuttered.
Birds outside froze mid-flight. Leaves halted mid-fall. Dust hovered in place like tiny planets in orbit.
Aaryan couldn't breathe. Or maybe he didn't need to.
And then, a voice.
Calm. Deep. Not outside, but within.
"He is aligned."
The watch glowed faintly. Its hands turned counterclockwise.
"Chosen."
Aaryan's knees buckled. He fell forward—and instead of hitting the ground, fell through it.
Into stars.
He floated in nothing.
No ground, no sound, no breath. Just a vast sea of light and memory. Images poured into his mind:
A star collapsing. A child born under an eclipse. A woman walking through a world where everyone else stood still.
And above it all—a clock. Spinning. Unmaking.
And then he saw himself.
Just… Aaryan.
With a backpack. With mild acne and thoughts of anime episodes. Alone.
"Why me?" he asked.
And the voice replied:
"Time remembers. You are not first. But perhaps… you will be last."
He awoke with a gasp.
Lying on the cracked concrete floor of the observatory, the floating watch gone. The dome's glass shimmered with dew. Morning birds chirped. Everything… normal.
Except it wasn't.
His phone said ten minutes had passed.
But his heart knew better.
Aaryan stood up, slowly, clutching his chest where the memory of the watch's tick still echoed.
Was it real?
He stepped out of the observatory. The door creaked closed behind him.
No one saw. No one knew.
But as he walked back to class, something followed him. Not a shadow. Not a sound. But a presence—like the second hand of a clock just behind his shoulder.
And miles above the Earth, something ancient stirred again.
Another law… awakened.
To Be Continued.