The man set down his cup. "I'm you, Ishaan. Or rather, I'm the you who never left. The one who built the Kāla Yantra in the first place. We have work to do. The British are burning the observatories as we speak. And if we don't stop them, the future you came from will never exist."
"Ah," the man said, smiling with Ishaan's smile. "You finally arrived. I was beginning to think I'd miscalculated the parallax." ishaan bhaskar
It was 2:17 AM when his phone buzzed against the granite kitchen counter, the vibration humming like a trapped bee. He didn't need to look at the screen. He already knew. The encrypted text would read the same thing it had for the past three nights: "The constellation is shifting. Find the seventh star." The man set down his cup
When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a room he recognized. His own study. But the books on the shelf were different. The calendar on the wall read: September 10, 1857 . And sitting across from him, sipping tea from a porcelain cup, was a man who looked exactly like him. The one who built the Kāla Yantra in the first place