Atharv's eyelids fluttered open slowly.

For a few seconds, everything was blurry.

A dull ache pulsed through his head.

He frowned.

This wasn't where he remembered being.

The last thing he recalled was darkness... a strange force... and then nothing.

His gaze moved around the room.

The walls were unfamiliar.

The ceiling looked different.

And there was a strange object spinning above his head.

Atharv immediately sat upright.

Pain shot through his temples.

A sharp breath escaped him as he gripped the side of the bed.

His heart began beating faster.

Where was he?

This wasn't the palace.

This wasn't even a place he recognized.

He slowly stood up.

His legs felt weak.

The room felt unnaturally quiet.

Then his eyes landed on a figure standing near the far end of the room.

A young woman.

Holding...

A frying pan.

Atharv blinked.

The woman blinked back.

Ridhima immediately pointed the frying pan toward him.

"Uh... you...!"

Then she quickly corrected herself.

"Mera matlab... tum jag gaye ho."

Atharv didn't answer.

His eyes remained fixed on her.

Not because she was beautiful.

Because she was the first familiar thing in a place where nothing else made sense.

He remembered her.

The girl from before.

The one he had seen before losing consciousness.

Ridhima shifted awkwardly under his stare.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Still no answer.

Atharv took a cautious step forward.

Ridhima instantly tightened her grip on the frying pan.

"Ruk jao!"

Atharv stopped.

"Ek kadam bhi aage mat aana."

For a moment neither moved.

Atharv wasn't trying to scare her.

He simply looked lost.

Completely lost.

Like someone who had been dropped into the middle of a world he didn't understand.

Ridhima noticed it.

The confusion in his eyes.

The uncertainty.

The way he kept looking around the room.

As if expecting the walls themselves to explain something.

"You fainted," she said more softly.

"So I brought you here."

Atharv's gaze shifted toward the glowing bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The spinning fan.

The switchboard.

The window.

Everything felt wrong.

Nothing looked familiar.

A strange uneasiness settled inside his chest.

For the first time since waking up, fear appeared on his face.

Not panic.

Just fear.

The quiet kind.

The kind a person feels when reality suddenly stops making sense.

His voice came out low.

"...Yah sthan kya hai?"

Ridhima frowned.

"What?"

Atharv swallowed.

"Main... kahan hoon?"

The question sounded genuine.

Not dramatic.

Not theatrical.

Just a man trying to understand where his world had gone.

Ridhima slowly lowered the frying pan a little.

"You don't remember?"

Atharv shook his head.

His eyes moved to the window.

Beyond it, strange lights glowed in the darkness.

Lights without fire.

Without torches.

His stomach tightened.

He had never seen anything like them.

"What happened to this city?" he whispered.

Ridhima stared.

"What city?"

Atharv looked at her.

The confusion in his eyes deepened.

As if he couldn't understand how she didn't know.

Then his gaze drifted toward the glowing tube light.

He stared at it for several seconds.

Ridhima followed his gaze.

"The light?"

Atharv nodded slowly.

"There is no flame."

Ridhima froze.

Atharv looked genuinely disturbed.

"No oil."

"No wick."

"No smoke."

His voice lowered.

"How is it burning?"

Ridhima opened her mouth.

Then closed it again.

Because for the first time...

He didn't seem crazy.

He seemed terrified.

Terrified of things she considered normal.

Atharv turned toward her again.

His expression softened slightly.

"You helped me?"

Ridhima blinked.

"...Yeah."

For a moment he simply looked at her.

Relief flickered across his face.

A tiny thing.

Barely visible.

But real.

Because right now she was the only person he knew in this strange place.

The only familiar face in a world that no longer felt like his own.

"Dhanyavaad," he said quietly.

Then after a pause—

"Kripaya batayiye..."

His voice almost faltered.

"What place is this?"

The room fell silent.

And suddenly...

Neither of them felt like laughing anymore.

Atharv's gaze moved around the room once again.

The glowing lights.

The spinning fan.

The smooth walls.

The strange objects placed on shelves.

Nothing made sense.

A thousand questions crowded his mind.

Finally, he looked back at Ridhima.

"Yah sthan kya hai?" he asked quietly.

Ridhima blinked.

"My house?"

Atharv frowned slightly as if that answer only created more questions.

He glanced toward the window.

"Kya yah Abhantpura rajya ke bahar ka koi pradesh hai?"

Ridhima stared.

"...What?"

Atharv continued seriously.

"Ya kisi padosi rajya ka bhag?"

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Hamne aise bhavan pehle kabhi nahi dekhe."

He pointed toward the ceiling fan.

"Aur yah yantra..."

The fan continued spinning above them.

Atharv watched it with genuine fascination.

"Yah nirantar kaise ghoom raha hai?"

Ridhima slowly looked up at the fan.

Then back at him.

Then up at the fan again.

For the first time in her life she was seeing someone look at a ceiling fan as if it were a divine artifact.

Atharv's attention shifted to the light.

"There is no flame."

He stood beneath it, studying it carefully.

"No oil."

"No smoke."

Yet it illuminated the entire room.

A look of pure curiosity appeared on his face.

"Hamare rajya mein aisi suvidhayein nahi hain."

He sounded impressed.

Not scared.

Just genuinely amazed.

His eyes moved back to her.

"Kya aap is rajya ki rajkumari hain?"

Ridhima nearly dropped the frying pan.

"WHAT?"

Atharv looked confused by her reaction.

"You live here."

"You rescued me."

"And this place appears quite secure."

He paused thoughtfully.

"Rajkumari hona swabhavik anumaan tha."

Ridhima could only stare.

What kind of logic was that?

Atharv meanwhile seemed completely unaware of how ridiculous he sounded.

His mind was running in ten different directions.

"Yah rajya ka naam kya hai?"

"Kis vansh ka shasan hai?"

"Raja kaun hai?"

"Yuddh ki sthiti kaisi hai?"

"Kya Abhantpura se yahan tak sandesh pahunchte hain?"

The questions came one after another.

Before Ridhima could answer even one.

Finally she raised her hand.

"Bas!"

Atharv immediately fell silent.

The room became quiet.

Ridhima looked at him carefully.

The confusion.

The curiosity.

The complete sincerity.

There wasn't even a hint that he was joking.

"Kya tum sach mein ye sab maante ho?" she asked slowly.

Atharv frowned.

"Maante ho?"

"Haan."

"Ki tum kisi rajya ke rajkumar ho."

Atharv looked almost offended.

"Kyuki ham wahi hain."

The confidence in his answer made Ridhima's headache worse.

She pressed her fingers against her forehead.

"Oh God..."

Atharv immediately looked around.

"Bhagwan?"

Ridhima groaned.

"No, not literally."

Atharv became even more confused.

Meanwhile Ridhima was having a completely different crisis.

Either—

This man had lost his memory.

Or—

He had committed himself to the world's most dedicated roleplay.

And somehow...

Neither option felt convincing.

Because every reaction he gave felt real.

Too real.

Atharv suddenly noticed a framed photograph sitting nearby.

He picked it up.

His eyes widened.

"Yah kaise chitra hai?"

Ridhima looked over.

"It's a photograph."

Atharv stared at the image.

The people inside looked so lifelike.

As if they had been frozen in time.

A strange chill ran down his spine.

Slowly he looked up at Ridhima.

His voice dropped.

"Yah sthan..."

He swallowed.

"...vastav mein hamare lok ka nahi hai na?"

For the first time, there was no curiosity in his eyes.

Only uncertainty.

And a quiet fear.

Because deep down...

Atharv was beginning to realize that he wasn't simply lost.

He might have lost his entire world.

Ridhima was about to say something when suddenly—

Tring! Tring!

Her phone lit up on the table.

Atharv nearly jumped.

His eyes widened.

"What was that?"

The strange glowing object continued vibrating.

Atharv stared at it as if it might attack.

"Yah kaun sa yantra hai?"

Before he could move closer, Ridhima quickly grabbed the phone.

"Chup!"

Atharv blinked.

"Ji?"

"Bilkul chup."

She pointed at the sofa.

"Aur waha baitho."

Atharv looked mildly offended.

He was a prince.

People usually stood when he entered rooms.

Yet somehow this girl kept ordering him around.

Still...

He quietly walked over and sat down.

Ridhima narrowed her eyes.

"Seedhe baitho."

Atharv immediately straightened his back.

Like a disciplined student.

Satisfied, Ridhima answered the call.

The moment she did—

"TU KUTTI!"

Nithi's voice exploded from the speaker.

Atharv visibly flinched.

"Use apne ghar KYU le gayi? Don't tell me tu sach mein us aadimanav ko utha laayi!"

Ridhima closed her eyes.

"Nithi."

"Haan?"

"Chup hoja."

"Toh matlab le aayi?"

"JUST SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!"

Atharv listened carefully.

His brows furrowed.

There was clearly another person speaking.

Yet nobody was there.

His eyes slowly moved toward the shining device in Ridhima's hand.

A communication artifact?

Magic?

Divine blessing?

He couldn't tell.

Meanwhile Nithi continued.

"Ab kya karegi uska?"

Ridhima glanced at Atharv.

The so-called prince was now staring at her phone with the focus of a scientist discovering a new species.

She sighed.

"I don't know."

"Ak to iss Mr. Rajkumar ne mera dimag kha liya hai."

"Rajkumar?"

"Haan Rajkumar."

"OH MY GOD."

"Exactly."

Nithi burst out laughing.

Ridhima was not amused.

"Kal tak wait karte hain."

"Phir use station le jayenge."

"Maybe kisi ko pehchan ho."

Ridhima looked at Atharv again.

"Tab tak?"

Nithi replied immediately.

"Tab tak wahi rahega."

Ridhima groaned.

Then ended the call.

The room fell silent.

Slowly she turned around.

Atharv was sitting exactly where she'd left him.

Hands folded.

Back straight.

Looking deeply thoughtful.

Almost concerned.

Ridhima immediately became suspicious.

"Kya?"

Atharv looked at her.

Then at the phone.

Then at her again.

Finally he asked—

"Abhi aap kis se vartalabh kar rahi thi?"

"My friend."

Atharv frowned.

"Par vah thi kahan?"

"Phone pe."

Atharv pointed at the device.

"Isme?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Atharv stared at the phone.

Then stared some more.

Then—

"Adbhut."

Ridhima sighed.

Here we go again.

Atharv leaned forward slightly.

"Toh aap kisi dur sthit vyakti se bhi turant baat kar sakti hain?"

"Haan."

"Kisi bhi samay?"

"Haan."

"Kitni dur?"

Ridhima shrugged.

"Doosre sheher."

"Doosre rajya."

"Doosre desh."

Atharv froze.

"...Doosre desh?"

"Haan."

For a moment he simply stared.

Then looked at the phone again.

The wheels inside his head were visibly turning.

Finally he murmured—

"Hame yah apne rajya mein le jana hoga."

Ridhima blinked.

"What?"

Atharv nodded seriously.

"Sochiye."

"If soldiers could communicate from distant borders..."

"If ministers could send messages instantly..."

"If traders could contact neighboring kingdoms..."

His eyes practically lit up.

"Hamare rajya ka kitna vikas ho sakta hai."

Ridhima stared.

This man had discovered mobile phones five minutes ago and was already planning national development.

Atharv continued thoughtfully.

"Aur vah ghoomne wala yantra."

He pointed at the ceiling fan.

"Usse garmi ki samasya samapt ho sakti hai."

Then he pointed toward the light.

"Aur yah prakash."

"No oil."

"No servants required."

"No maintenance."

"Ashcharyajanak."

Ridhima slowly sat down.

Watching him.

Atharv wasn't acting.

That was the problem.

Every reaction was genuine.

The amazement.

The curiosity.

The questions.

Everything.

It was as if he had truly come from a world where none of this existed.

Atharv suddenly noticed something outside the window.

A motorcycle sped past.

Its headlights cutting through the darkness.

Atharv immediately stood up.

"What was THAT?"

Ridhima nearly laughed.

"It's a bike."

Atharv walked toward the window.

Completely fascinated.

A few seconds later another vehicle passed.

Then another.

His expression slowly shifted from curiosity...

To disbelief.

To wonder.

As he whispered quietly—

"Kitna badal gaya hai sansar..."

And for the first time since waking up—

Ridhima didn't know whether to laugh at him.

Or believe him.