The silence between the three friends stretched awkwardly until the reddish-grey one, who had remained watchful, finally spoke.
"We are here on duty."
The green one straightened immediately, like a student caught slouching in the front row.
"I am Sudhasagara of the Vidyadhara," he said with a calm nod, "and this is Dhumaketu of the Yaksha."
Dhumaketu gave a sharp, confident tilt of his head, as if that clarified everything.
"Yaksha?" Anagha whispered, eyes darting between them. "Like the guardian spirits? Forest types?"
Chitra elbowed her lightly. "Don't provoke the big dudes."
Sudhasagara gestured politely. "And you three are?"
Anagha raised an eyebrow at the others. "Should we give them our real names? This feels like how every urban legend starts."
Chitra murmured back, "I don't think we have a choice."
Agastya shrugged. "We already let them in. The privacy train left the station hours ago."
They introduced themselves, and the moment Agastya said his name, Dhumaketu produced a rolled scroll and handed it to him ceremoniously. Agastya blinked, glanced at the Sanskrit script, and promptly passed it to Chitra.
"Yeah, no. My Sanskrit's as good as my chances in a spelling bee."
Chitra gave it a quick glance, then turned to Anagha. "You're the scroll whisperer, remember?"
Anagha sighed. "Why am I always the designated ancient script reader?"
Still, she took the scroll and squinted at it. After a few lines, she raised her head.
"Wait… this says we're selected to go to Pātāla? Selected how?"
"You passed the test. The quiz," Sudhasagara said calmly.
Chitra squinted. "That quiz? The one with the bizarre questions? That was real?"
"We thought it was some experimental BuzzFeed nonsense," Agastya muttered.
"Congratulations," Dhumaketu said, smiling like someone handing out cult pamphlets at a metro station.
"Our parents would never allow this," Agastya said firmly.
"They already have," came the cool reply.
"What?!" the three shouted in unison.
"They've been informed. One of our team has already spoken to them," Sudhasagara added, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say.
Chitra's expression hovered somewhere between scandalized and impressed. "These guys are doing MLM-level networking."
"You will be able to visit home after each mandala," Dhumaketu added. "Forty-eight days, at most."
Chitra looked at Anagha pleadingly. "Say something sensible, please."
Anagha's mind was reeling. "This is like… like a divine chain mail. But okay." She took a deep breath and said aloud, "My family and I worship Lord Vishnu. If this involves ghost worship or shady rituals, we're out."
"That's wonderful," Dhumaketu replied with a beaming smile. "We do too."
Anagha blinked. "Huh?"
Before she could process that, their living room door opened. Anagha's parents entered, followed by Agastya's, who were in mid-call with Chitra's parents on video chat. Everyone stopped and stared.
"What's all this?" Anagha's mother asked, eyes darting toward the garlic and salt mess they had made on the ground.
The three friends smiled sheepishly, like kids caught planning a midnight snack heist.
Another figure entered with their parents—a reddish-skinned Yaksha with only one head this time.
"I am Chitraketu," he introduced himself with a Namaste. "The parents have given their permission."
"WHAT?" the trio chorused.
Agastya immediately dragged his parents aside. "How could you say yes? Do you know these people? They could be… I don't know, well-dressed kidnappers!"
His father just ruffled his hair affectionately. "You always worry too much."
Chitra sighed. One look at their calm, cheerful faces and she knew resistance was futile. "I can't believe they said yes. My parents won't even let me go on school trips without a four-page itinerary."
"They're not kidnapping you," said Anagha's mother gently. "They explained everything."
"They did?" Anagha asked, wide-eyed.
"We had questions too," her father said. "But we were shown… well, things we can't explain. And somehow… it felt right."
"That's not comforting!" Anagha replied.
Chitra sighed again. One look at their calm, cheerful faces, and she knew resistance was futile. If she had to guess, they might have done some compulsion tricks to make them agree.
"So, when do they leave?" Agastya's mother asked with enthusiasm. "What should they pack? Any money? Snacks?"
"Your money won't be useful there," Sudhasagara explained. "Only basic necessities. They'll settle in soon enough."
Agastya groaned. "This sounds like a start-up internship."
Chitra gave him a look. "You applied to one last month."
"Yeah, and I ghosted them after they said the office has no AC."
Communication? Handled.
Safety? Assured.
Travel? Scheduled.
"Get some sleep," Chitraketu said with finality. "We'll pick you up day after tomorrow to a place where our Vimana is docked."
And after dumping this news, just like that—they vanished.
Agastya's father fluffed up a pillow on the sofa. "You're on couch duty tonight, beta."
Agastya sighed and nodded, still stunned.
Later, in the darkness of the room, the three huddled together under blankets.
"This is actually happening," Anagha whispered.
"I still think we accidentally joined an interdimensional pyramid scheme," Agastya muttered.
Chitra added drowsily, "If they make us sell magic soaps, I'm quitting."
Anagha's last thought before she nodded off was:
Wait. Why did they bring unpeeled garlic, salt, and the seasoning bottle? Don't tell me… their food is going to be bland.
They finally drifted into restless sleep, plagued by dreams of bizarre quizzes, terrifyingly bland food, and suspiciously cheerful guides.
The next morning, sunlight barged into the living room with all the subtlety of a marching band. Anagha groaned and buried her face into a cushion. Her eyes felt swollen, her thoughts were cloudy, and somewhere in her heart, she was still reeling from the absurdity of yesterday.
Chitra sat up first, her hair a glorious bird's nest. "Did anyone else dream of being chased by a flying papad?"
Agastya, sprawled on the floor with a thin blanket barely covering one foot, grunted. "I was trying to explain what sambhar is to a… yak. A real yak."
Anagha blinked. "Did anyone sleep well?"
"Nope," both said in unison.
Their faces bore identical dark circles, like war paint for confused chosen ones. They exchanged glances—this was their life now, apparently.
Before long, the clatter of breakfast plates and the chime of phone calls filled the air. Their parents, however, were entirely too cheerful for people who had apparently handed off their children to otherworldly recruiters.
Agastya's mother was already making a list. "Toothbrushes, undergarments, towels, soap—essentials, since their money won't work there."
Anagha's mother added, "We should give you food and snacks. You never know."
Agastya groaned. "I can't believe this is happening."
Their day became a whirlwind of shopping. The trio got dragged from stores to tailor shops, to herbal medicine counters, to homeopathy stalls—because apparently, you must fight otherworldly threats but also stay regular.
At one point, Chitra's mother yelled over the video call, "Buy a brown dress, okay? White will glare on your skin!"
Anagha raised an eyebrow and thought, White is beautiful on her… such a lovely contrast. But she just smiled and shrugged.
Chitra, annoyed, picked a white kurta on purpose. "Let them glare."
Back at home, they were exhausted from shopping and familial chaos. Agastya slumped on the sofa with bags under his eyes and even more bags in his hands. "This is worse than the quiz."
Anagha muttered, "That quiz was evil. This is… endurance training."
As night fell, and the adults finally quieted down, the three sat huddled in the living room again, the space that had now become a planning war room.
Chitra spoke first, serious now. "Guys… are we really doing this?"
Agastya shrugged, eyes distant. "I kept waiting for someone to say it was a prank. But the scroll, the vimana, yakshas… I don't think it is."
Anagha folded her arms. "They said they believe in Lord Vishnu. That... that's something. I don't think they're evil. At least, not obviously."
There was a long silence. The weight of the unknown stretched between them.
"I wish I felt ready," Chitra whispered.
Agastya offered a tired smile. "Good thing we're not being given a choice."
"Feels like we said 'yes' to a Netflix trial and got signed up for a cult instead," Anagha said.
They laughed, soft and weary.
The next day began quietly.
The trio hadn't slept much, their faces pale and puffy from a night of restless dreams and too many whispered questions. Their parents, however, were bustling about with misplaced excitement, checking and rechecking small packed bags filled with clothes, toothbrushes, and—for reasons unknown—unpeeled garlic, salt, and seasoning. It was as if the parents were preparing them for a relaxing retreat and kitchen wars.
Breakfast was quiet. Everyone avoided talking too much. Too many unspoken thoughts hovered over the dosas.
By late morning, there was a knock on the door.
Standing outside were the two visitors from before—Sudhasagara in his calm, green-clad Vidyadhara robes, and Dhumaketu, with his dusky complexion and confident stance. This time, they were joined by a third being, another reddish-skinned figure with only one head, who introduced himself simply as Chitraketu.
Without much delay or flourish, Sudhasagara addressed the group. "It is time."
Agastya's father, bizarrely chipper, handed him a bag and gave his shoulder a hearty squeeze. "Don't forget to change your socks regularly!"
Agastya gave a strangled smile. "Yes, father. Hygiene above all."
Anagha's parents and sister walked her to the gate and said, "Bye akka, don't worry as soon as you settled, they will provide you and us with means for communication."
Saying that, they waved their byes and went inside.
Anagha looked stunned, "Wow, I can feel the love."
Chitraketu smiled, "A little compulsion to make them feel better with the situation."
Chitra nodded to herself like she expected such a thing.
The three friends exchanged glances. Anagha could read the nervous energy in Chitra's fidgeting fingers, Agastya's over-politeness, and the way her own heart was pounding like a mridangam solo.
The group stepped out of the house and began walking casually down the street. It was odd. The world seemed so normal—neighbors rushing by, the sun shining lazily, birds chirping—as if nothing had changed. As if they weren't walking with creatures from another world. Anagha thought to herself, Can no one see these beings walking in broad daylight?
Don't street cameras capture this bizarre sight?
They must have done something.
How convenient.
Just as they turned a corner, Sudhasagara said softly, "Hold your breath."
"What?" Anagha asked.
WHOOSH.
The world blurred. The road twisted beneath their feet, and reality seemed to fold like paper. One blink later, they were no longer in their quiet neighborhood.
They were standing at the edge of a sinkhole. A real one. Jagged, deep, and humming softly as if alive.
"What… the…" Chitra murmured, peering into the hole. "Why are we standing here? Vimana will come up from there."
"No," said Chitraketu with a chuckle. "You have to go inside to board the Vimana."
Agastya backed away half a step. "You're kidding."
Sudhasagara, ever serene, finally spoke with more weight in his voice. "No, we are not talking in jest. That is what we have to do. We can give you 2 minutes and 12 seconds to get ready."
Anagha frowned. "So we didn't really have a say."
Dhumaketu shrugged, not even apologetic.
The silence that followed was very telling.
Sudhasagara added, "You're not prisoners. But the path ahead will require you to honor the choice already made by your spirit—even if your mind still wavers."
Chitra looked like she was about to protest, but then she sighed. "You make it sound so noble, I hate it."
Agastya stepped forward, peered down into the sinkhole. "This is really happening, huh?"
Anagha didn't answer. Her heart was pounding, but she squeezed her friends' hands on either side. "Let's do this together."
A minute passed.
Then a minute more.
No one is moving.
Who on earth will willingly throw themselves into a sinkhole?
They all took a deep breath.
Then more deep breathing ensued.
And they are falling.
Nope they were pushed inside unceremoniously.
One minute, they were free-falling toward the center of the earth. The wind rushed past their ears, and their stomachs lurched as gravity twisted around them. The world spun in chaotic colors, and their limbs flailed, but in the next breath, they were suddenly hovering in front of a massive, ancient vehicle.
A Vimana.
It was enormous—so large it seemed to stretch beyond what the eye could comprehend, its silvery, iridescent surface reflecting strange lights. The sheer size of it was overwhelming—easily the size of a cricket stadium, if not more. It hummed with a deep, vibrating energy, like it was alive.
"Woah," the three exclaimed in unison, their voices overlapping in awe.
Suddenly, an ancient-looking figure appeared before them. He had a weathered face, like he'd seen centuries come and go, and his expression was one of calm authority.
"Identification?" he asked, voice like a deep echo.
A what now?
Sudhasagara stepped forward without a hint of hesitation and handed the man a scroll. The ancient figure scanned it for a moment, then nodded, allowing them to pass.
Anagha exchanged a look with Chitra and Agastya. The three of them took a deep breath together.
And then, they walked into the massive archway.
It begins.