The harsh blare of the alarm clock scraped against Kunal's raw nerves.
He slapped blindly at his phone, silencing it. 7:01 AM.
He was sprawled on his sofa — not on the pavement — but the memory of collapsing outside felt real, undeniable.
Every muscle ached, not the dull soreness of a workout, but something deeper. A hum of exhaustion beneath his skin. The pounding headache from the night before had dulled to a persistent throb, a constant reminder of the figures he'd seen. Of the words he couldn't forget.
Kunala. The destiny has found you.
Dragging himself upright, Kunal winced as the room swayed slightly. His phone buzzed again.
A stream of messages waited.
First, a note from his Business Head:
> "Take the time you need, Kunal. Work is auxiliary in life not health. Rest up."
Then from Ananya and Abhishek:
Ananya:
> Kunal?? You okay? We were so worried!
Abhishek:
> Dude, seriously. What happened last night? BH has already approved your leave and gave us a couple of days off too to take care of you.
Ananya again:
> We took off too for a couple of days. BH was cool with it. I will say he wanted us to take leave but was not saying it as he instantly agreed to it.
Abhishek:
> Let us know that you're still alive.
Relief flooded him. Quickly followed by something sharper — the urgent need to talk.
He couldn't carry this madness alone. This is too much for him to handle.
His fingers fumbled across the screen.
Kunal:
> Alive. Barely. Things are... weird. Really weird and disturbing. Need to talk. ASAP.
The reply came immediately.
Ananya:
> What things?? What's wrong?! Tell me!
Kunal:
> In person. Usual spot?
Abhishek:
> Café Irani Junction? Give us an hour.
Kunal:
> Yeah. See you there.
---
Showering felt strange. He avoided the mirror, afraid of what he might see in it.
Pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, he noticed the fabric fit differently — tighter across his chest, his arms.
He shook it off. Everything felt wrong right now. And it might be his paranoia.
---
Café Irani Junction buzzed with the late morning crowd — strong chai, kheema pav, the smell of fried bread hanging in the air.
Ananya and Abhishek were already there, tucked into their usual booth.
Ananya stood as he approached, relief flooding her face while giving him a quick hug which lasted a little bit longer than usual.
"Kunal! Oh, thank God," she breathed.
Abhishek stared at him, frowning. "Man, you look like hell. What is going on?"
His gaze sharpened. "And... when did you hit the gym without me? Remember we decided to hit it together? And now you ditched me? And what's with this lens? Are you changing your career to modelling now? You haven't even started your start up till now."
Kunal blinked. "Gym? Lens? I haven't—"
He trailed off, following Abhishek's gaze to his own arms. The muscles in his forearm were... different. Harder. Tighter. Like packing explosive muscles as compactly as possible that's why he felt weird since morning.
He tugged at the sleeve of his t-shirt.
His chest. His shoulders. Everything was leaner. Stronger.
Not dramatic like a bodybuilder. But like a veteran athlete or a gladiator of movies.
But impossible to miss.
The he opened his mobiles front camera to check his eyes. Now they have a crimson hue above his dark brown eyes just like the star which he saw. His eyes now looked like they have deep hidden depths in behind them.
A cold wave slid over him.
"What the hell..." he muttered, staring down at himself.
The café's noise seemed to fade. He looked at his friends, heart hammering.
"See? This! This is what I'm talking about! I haven't touched a gym in months and why would I even start wearing a lens when I don't even wear normal sunglasses!"
Ananya and Abhishek exchanged a glance — not skepticism. Worry.
"Okay, okay," Ananya said softly, resting a hand on his arm. "Sit. Start from the beginning."
And Kunal did.
The strange feeling near the alley.
The whisper: Kunala, the destiny has found you.
The walk.
The monk.
The barefoot woman, beautiful and terrifying, speaking straight into his soul.
The warning: Eyes in every shadow.
The searing pain behind his eyes.
The collapse.
While collapsing seeing those crimson stars twice.
The visions — royalty, war, chains, a slash across the throat.
He spoke quickly, words tumbling out, desperate for them to understand with pleading eyes.
Silence fell when he finished. Only the clink of cups from the counter filled the air.
Ananya looked pale.
Abhishek leaned forward, elbows on the table, scrubbing his hand over his face.
"Kunala..." Ananya murmured.
She tapped her lip thoughtfully, her brow furrowed deep. "It sounds... familiar. Like something from old stories. Puranas. Legends my grandmother used to mention."
Abhishek's head snapped up.
"Wait. Seriously?"
He turned back to Kunal, his gaze sharper now. Different.
"Okay. Let's look at the facts," he said, counting on his fingers.
"You collapse after hearing a weird name. You see impossible figures calling you that name. You dream about being some ancient prince. And you wake up... stronger and different colour of eyes?"
He shook his head.
"This isn't just stress. It's something else."
Kunal nodded, a wave of raw relief washing over him. "Exactly!"
Abhishek leaned back, mind working fast.
"Maybe it's not magic," he said slowly. "Maybe someone's messing with you. Gaslighting you. Drugging you. Something physical, something real."
Ananya looked horrified. "You mean... like an experiment?"
Abhishek nodded grimly. "It fits. Surveillance. Psychological manipulation."
He pulled out his phone.
"We need to check everything. Your apartment. Your devices. Your accounts. If someone's tracking you... we'll find them."
He was already dialing.
Minutes later, he spoke into the phone in fast, clipped terms — describing a need for a "clean sweep," discreet and immediate.
Kunal sat frozen, barely breathing.
The next fifteen minutes dragged.
Kunal pulled out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a shaky hand. He smoked in silence, staring blankly ahead, the cigarette burning down faster than usual.
Ananya watched him, her brows furrowed together, worry plain on her face. She didn't say anything — just hugged her arms around herself tighter, like she was holding back words.
The smoke flowed between them, thin and bitter, filling the space that neither of them could.
Finally, Abhishek's phone buzzed. He answered immediately, his face tightening as he listened.
He hung up. Looked at them.
"Well?" Ananya pressed.
Abhishek's voice was low.
"He found them. Multiple spyware programs. Keyloggers. Remote access tools. Your phone. Your laptop. Even your social media."
Ananya gasped.
Kunal's stomach churned.
"Someone," Abhishek said, voice grim, "is already inside your life. Watching your every move."
The noise of the café melted away.
The figures. The red stars.
The whispers in the night.
And now—
Someone real, someone human — or something worse — was tracking him. Keeping an eye on him.
Kunal stared at his untouched cup of tea.
A long and deadly war for him has already begun.
To be continued...