The side street Avantika turned into was noticeably quieter.
The roar of traffic from the main road softened behind them, fading into a distant constant hum. Streetlights stood at regular intervals, casting pale yellow circles on the pavement. A row of parked cars lined the curb, their metal bodies reflecting the light like dull mirrors.
The air still carried the faint smell of dust, petrol, and late-night street food.
Avantika walked ahead with quick steps.
Not rushing.
But purposeful.
Behind her, Karna and Sahadev followed exactly as before—several feet away, matching her pace without question.
The arrangement was strange.
But strangely functional.
After a few minutes Avantika stopped beside a tall iron gate.
Beyond it stood a mid-rise apartment building. Concrete walls painted pale beige, balconies stacked one above another, a few windows still glowing faintly with indoor light.
A security cabin sat near the entrance.
Empty.
Avantika exhaled quietly.
"Good."
She unlocked the gate and pushed it open.
The metal hinges creaked softly.
Karna's gaze moved upward as they stepped inside the building compound.
Multiple floors.
Rectangular balconies.
Long rows of windows.
The structure rose far higher than any palace tower he had seen.
"This is where people live?"
The translator spoke his words.
Avantika nodded.
"Yes."
She glanced at the building.
"Hundreds of people."
Karna stopped walking for a moment.
Hundreds.
Inside one structure.
Sahadev's eyes were already studying the building's architecture. Concrete pillars. Electrical wiring running along the walls. Water pipes near the ground level.
Everything about this world seemed built for efficiency.
Avantika pressed a button beside the entrance door.
A soft buzzing sound came from inside.
Karna's head tilted slightly.
"What creature made that sound?"
Avantika laughed.
"No creature."
She opened the door.
"Just a machine."
The translator delivered the explanation.
Inside, the building lobby was quiet.
A single ceiling light glowed above a tiled floor. The air smelled faintly of detergent and concrete.
Avantika walked toward a metal door on the side.
She pressed another button.
The elevator arrived with a soft mechanical hum.
The doors slid open.
Karna instinctively stepped back.
Sahadev's eyes narrowed.
A moving room.
Avantika noticed their hesitation.
"It's safe."
The translator spoke.
"It just moves up."
Karna studied the narrow metal box.
A confined space that traveled vertically inside a building.
He stepped inside first.
Warriors did not show fear of machines.
Sahadev followed.
Avantika pressed the button marked 7.
The doors slid shut.
The elevator began to rise.
Karna's body instinctively shifted slightly as the floor moved beneath his feet.
His hand briefly touched the wall for balance.
The motion stopped within seconds.
The doors opened again.
A quiet corridor stretched ahead.
White walls.
Closed apartment doors.
A faint television sound leaking from somewhere behind one of them.
Avantika walked toward the third door on the right.
She unlocked it.
The door opened into a small but neat apartment.
Warm light filled the space.
A couch near the wall.
A small dining table.
Bookshelves stacked with notebooks and novels.
A laptop sat open on a desk near the window.
Avantika stepped inside and turned on another light.
"Welcome to my world."
The translator repeated the sentence.
Karna stepped through the doorway slowly.
His eyes moved across the room.
Furniture.
Glass windows.
Electric lights glowing steadily without flame.
Objects made of materials he had never seen before.
Sahadev entered next.
His gaze immediately moved toward the laptop.
The screen glowed faintly.
A machine that produced light and symbols.
Another device.
Another mystery.
Avantika closed the door behind them.
The quiet of the apartment settled around them like a blanket.
No traffic roar.
No crowds.
Just the faint hum of electricity and distant city noise through the window.
For the first time since arriving in this strange age—
They stood still.
And breathed.
Avantika dropped the shopping bag onto the table.
"Okay."
She ran a hand through her hair.
"First rule."
The translator repeated the sentence.
"You don't open the door for anyone."
She pointed toward the entrance.
"If someone knocks, I handle it."
Both men nodded.
"Second rule."
She gestured toward the couch.
"You sit."
Karna and Sahadev exchanged a brief glance.
Then obeyed.
Avantika leaned against the table and folded her arms.
Now that the immediate chaos had passed…
Reality finally began to sink in.
Two men from the Dwapara Yuga sat in her living room.
Drinking cutting chai.
Wearing track pants.
Her life had officially gone insane.
She exhaled slowly.
"…Alright."
Her voice softened slightly.
"We start with basics."
The translator echoed the sentence.
"This world has changed a lot."
She pointed toward the glowing city outside the window.
"Five thousand years worth of change."
Sahadev spoke calmly.
"Then teach us."
The translator repeated his words.
Avantika stared at him for a moment.
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No fear.
Just curiosity.
The kind of curiosity that belonged to someone who had already accepted the impossible.
She shook her head slightly and laughed under her breath.
"…I can't believe I'm doing this."
Then she pulled a chair and sat down across from them.
"Fine."
She opened the translator app again.
"Lesson one."
The phone translated.
"This is called a phone."
Karna leaned forward slightly.
Sahadev's eyes sharpened with interest.
And in a quiet apartment seven floors above a modern Indian city—
The first lesson of the present-future to the people of 5,000 years in past began.