"What if the ache in your chest is not from this life—but from a love lost lifetimes ago?"
Mumbai, Present Day
Kiaan Varma, 24, stepped out of his sports bike and yanked off his helmet. The streets were noisy, but all he could hear was the echo of a voice that wasn't real.Or rather, wasn't from now.
"Kael... I'm not afraid—find me again."
The voice haunted him. In dreams. In daylight. Sometimes even in the rain.
Wealthy, handsome, reckless—people thought he had everything. But he felt like a puzzle missing its heart. His nightmares weren't random—they were stories. Repeating. Always with fire. Always ending in a scream.
He once mentioned it in therapy. The therapist said it was PTSD from his mother's car crash.But he didn't believe that.
Not after the latest dream—He stood watching a girl burn. Her eyes locked on his. Her last word was his name.
And then he woke up.
With her name on his lips: Lyra.
Meher Sharma, 23, loved quiet corners.
She studied journalism and poetry, orphaned young, raised by an aunt who believed feelings were weakness. But Meher—she felt everything. Her sketchbooks were filled with eyes. Eyes she didn't recognize… and yet did.
She was engaged.To Rishaan Malhotra, her aunt's choice.
He was safe. Smart. Boring.
Their wedding was six months away. Everyone smiled when she showed the ring. Everyone except her.
And then—she saw him.
Kiaan.
At the ruined fort of Rajgarh, during a college photography trip.
He was standing near the old temple arch, eyes distant, fingers tracing the stones like he knew them. When he turned and their eyes met, her knees went weak.
The air changed.
He blinked.She gasped.And the past lurched forward.
A Whispered Connection
Over the next week, they ran into each other again.
Bookstore. Subway. Coffee shop.Each time, the silence between them felt louder.
"Have we… met before?" Meher asked finally.
Kiaan stared at her. His throat dried.
"Not in this life," he murmured.
She laughed it off.
But that night, Meher had her first nightmare.
She was tied to a stake. Her belly was round—pregnant.A man screamed her name in the flames.
She woke up screaming.
And in her hand?
A flower. Burnt. Real.
The Past Comes for Them
Kiaan was being watched.
He noticed it on a Wednesday evening, while tailing Meher discreetly—just to feel close. A man in a grey coat. No ID. No expression. Same face at three different locations. Same stare.
He tried to confront him once.
The man smiled and said one thing:
"Love is a weapon if it echoes too far, Your Majesty."
Then vanished.
That night, a package arrived at Kiaan's penthouse.Inside was an ancient scroll. Blood-marked.
"You have died once. You must die twice more.The Curse of Velundor is not yet lifted.And she carries your legacy unborn in her blood."
He collapsed to his knees.
She was pregnant when she died?
Rishaan's Secret
Meher tried to talk to Rishaan about her dreams. He smiled. "Maybe it's stress. Or too many stories." He kissed her forehead.
But Meher's instincts screamed.
That night, while Rishaan was asleep, she checked his laptop.
Emails.Encrypted messages.A group name: Order of the Shroud Flame.
Attached:Photos of Kiaan. Her. The fort.And one chilling title:
Target: Soulbound Subject 34 + Carrier.
Carrier?Of what?
Memories Erased
Over the next few days, Meher began forgetting things.
Where she kept her keys. Conversations she'd had.Even her dreams began to fade—burning villages replaced by cold, blank silence.
And the worst part?
She didn't feel anything anymore. Like someone turned off her heart.
Kiaan saw it happening. Saw her growing distant. And he panicked.
He ran to her college, found her in the canteen.
She stared at him blankly.
"Have we met?" she asked.
Something shattered inside him.
He wanted to scream.Instead, he kissed her.
For a moment—one flash—her eyes widened.A tear slipped out.
"Kael…" she whispered.
And then—
The Truck
It came out of nowhere.A black truck, speeding.
Kiaan saw it.
He turned, pushed her away, and took the hit.
The world exploded.
Blood. Screams. Meher clutching his body, crying as his chest heaved.
"Kiaan—don't you dare die—who are you—why do I know your name?"
He touched her face.
"Lyra... I found you again. You were pregnant. Our child... was taken. I'm cursed. But I'll come back. I'll always come back. Remember me next time…"
He died.