~ “Sometimes, the universe gives no warning before it unravels everything.”

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Vedika rolled her eyes in a show of theatrical reluctance. “Okay, okay. I’m drinking it.” She grumbled playfully.

With a resigned sigh, she set aside her tools and unfinished circuitry — scattered microchips and blinking modules still sparking with data flow — and picked up the warm glass of Aam panna. Locking her gaze with Shivangi’s, she lifted it to her lips and obediently took a long sip.

The tangy-sweet drink, laced with mint and cumin, slid down her throat — grounding her momentarily in something normal, even as a faint, uncontainable smile danced at the corner of her lips beneath her feigned reluctance.

Her expression twisted into mock annoyance, lips curled, but a faint smile betrayed her. She was trying not to show it, but Shivangi knew — deep down — Vedika appreciated the concern.

They sat in the softly humming sea-ship chamber, the rhythm of machines and occasional flicker of neon panels filling the background like a lullaby of modernity. Laughter and inside jokes sparked between them like warm electricity, weaving a delicate tapestry of friendship in the cold, sterile room.

For a brief moment, the world outside their research, beyond Azure and its chaos, didn’t exist.

Unbeknownst to them, the universe had begun to shift. A quiet tension brewed beneath the surface, the kind that gently tugged at fate’s strings before snapping them altogether.

Shivangi leaned back with her arms crossed, observing her bestie with a mix of pride and triumph. “Good.” She said firmly, but her voice laced with gentle authority.

“I’m glad to see you’ve finally finished your drink. You work too hard, Vedika. But your health matters too. Don’t forget that.” She patted Vedika’s back lightly, a gesture of affection and silent worry.

Vedika chuckled, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Alright, alright. No lectures today, please.” She sat straighter, brushing crumbs off her lap before returning her focus to the console in front of her. “Now, back to business.”

And just like that, the moment passed. Vedika snapped her attention back to the intricate circuitry on her workstation, her earlier levity dissolving into laser focus. She slipped on her interface gloves and tapped the wrist-top device strapped to her forearm. Instantly, projected schematics bloomed in the air around her—a lattice of code and energy, flickering with cryptic signals.

A soft pulse of energy blinked at her fingertips as she activated Nabhovajranetra—her cosmic observational skill that heightened visual perception to detect minute structural changes in circuits. A faint glow enveloped her irises as the world around her faded into a blur. The only things that remained in sharp focus were the nanowires dancing beneath her fingertips and the fluid motion of code flowing across her retina display.

The second skill, Abhayagami, kicked in next—enhancing her neural reflexes and multitasking bandwidth. Holographic veins shimmered faintly up her arms as the protocol synced with her nervous system.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself as her mind recalibrated to the accelerated data stream.

Now fully immersed, Vedika moved with the fluid precision of a pianist lost in symphony. Her fingers darted over the virtual interface, tweaking data flows, analyzing spectral outputs, tracing anomalies in the circuit’s flow. Every action was deliberate. Every motion sharp and seamless. Her surroundings no longer existed—only the evolving mesh of light, code, and electrical harmony before her.

Shivangi, watching from the other side of the table, tilted her head thoughtfully. There was always admiration in her gaze, but tonight it was tinged with concern.

Vedika’s focus was legendary. Her determination unmatched.

Not even our adopted daughter could match Vedika’s sheer intensity.

Unparalleled.

But I am worried that kind of intensity — came at a heavy price. She wondered, not for the first time, if Vedika even noticed how tired she looked.

Is this really sustainable? Shivangi wondered. How long before Vedika’s body gave out?

She sighed. Still, she chose not to interrupt her.

Let her finish. She thought. I’ll stay close. Just in case.

She reached for her own drink, but then stopped. Her gaze flicked to the window, then to the ceiling. A chill rippled down her spine. The fluorescent lights above flickered briefly, a stutter too small to trigger alarms but enough to be noticed.

Something felt... off.

“Did you hear something, Vedika?” Shivangi asked, the concern back in her voice.

Vedika frowned, still lost in her task. “No.” She replied, her brows knitting together without looking up. Her fingers danced across the touchless interface screen, double-checked the wrist-mounted device. “Everything’s fine on my end. Did you sense something?”

The lights stabilized. The hum of machines returned to their normal rhythm. But a small coil of tension wound itself in Shivangi’s chest.

Shivangi hesitated, then shook her head, murmuring, “No. Nothing specific. Maybe I’m just... sensitive.” She led out a small, nervous laugh, signaling Vedika to continue.

But the unease lingered.

Moments later, as Shivangi reached for her Aam panna again, her eyes widened in surprise — the glass had tipped over. Liquid spread across the table, already seeped towards Vedika’s delicate equipment.

“Oh no —” Shivangi gasped. She lunged for tissues to stem the damage.

She frantically dabbed at the mess, trying to stop it from reaching more. That’s when it happened—

A sharp crackle pierced the air.

Shivangi froze mid-motion, her eyes darting across the room to the old projector mounted near the ceiling. Its lights were flickering in a frenzy. Sparks burst from its edges, glowing orange and blue, hissing like angry serpents.

“VED...!” Shivangi called out, her voice tight with fear. The urgency in her voice sliced through the static.

But Vedika was too deep—trapped in her own mental interface, too focused to notice the approaching storm.

“VEDIKA!” Shivangi screamed, panic now clawing at her throat. She tried to use her inner energy to form a protective shield around herself and Vedika.

But it was too late.

The projector let out a deafening, mechanical whine — a sound like grinding metal screaming in pain — before detonating in a violent explosion.

KA-BOOM!

A blinding flash swallowed the room, followed instantly by an earsplitting blast that tore through glass, metal, and circuitry. Fire erupted from the core device, and its shockwave rattled the reinforced walls like paper.

The table flipped, papers spiraled into the air, and both girls were hurled across the chamber as the force ripped through the lab. Equipment crashed down around them, ceiling panels collapsed, and volatile chemicals combusted in a furious chain reaction.

Then — silence. Brief. Ominous. Followed by the low crackle of flames licking through the wreckage.

The air reeked of ozone and scorched plastic. An orange-red glow pulsed across the ruined space, dancing over broken monitors and blackened consoles. Smoke billowed like a living creature, thick and suffocating, wrapping itself around everything it touched.

Vedika stirred amidst the chaos. Time had unraveled into a haze of soundless motion. Her eyes fluttered open to a world drenched in ash and flame. Her vision swam, wavering between clarity and a deep blur. Pain throbbed relentlessly through her skull, each heartbeat a hammer strike behind her eyes.

She tried to move — her muscles screamed in protest. The sharp ache in her side made her gasp, and she coughed violently, her lungs burning with each breath. The taste of smoke and ozone clung stubbornly to her tongue, bitter and electric.

Around her, the ship cell that had once buzzed with energy and focus was now a charred battlefield. And somewhere in the smoke, another figure lay still.

“What… just happened?” Vedika whispered, her voice a dry rasp, barely audible above the crackling blaze.

Her blurry gaze swept the room— or what was left of it. The projector was a smoldering ruin. Wires lay shattered. Tools scattered.

Smoke curled through the air like ghostly ribbons, and ash floated down like snow from a broken sky. Firelight painted the twisted metal in hues of orange and crimson.

Then she saw her.

Shivangi.

Her body lay still against the wreckage, a thin cut tracing down her forehead, blood mingling with soot. Her face looked far too peaceful—as if merely sleeping.

Vedika’s heart seized.

“Shiv… Shivangi…” She rasped, coughing. She tried to crawl, but every movement was a war against her own failing body. Her hands trembled violently as she reached out, brushing her friend’s cheek. It was warm. But she didn’t stir.

“Please…” Her voice cracked. “Wake up…”

No response.

Panic surged through her. Her lungs burned. The heat was closing in. The air was too thick, too hot. The fire was everywhere.

This is not good. Vedika thought, her mind racing as panic surged through her smoke-filled lungs. We have to get out of here... no matter what. But how? I’m trapped, and Shivangi...

Her thoughts faltered, choked by the weight of fear and the thickening smoke curling around her like a noose.

Her limbs refused to obey.

Her body slumped, strength ebbing away like sand through fingers.

The heat was unbearable. The flames crackled louder.

Her eyelids grew heavier, her thoughts sluggish and fragmented.

Is this it? She wondered as the edges of her vision darkened.

And then—through the haze—a soft shimmer.

A tiny, glowing figure floated above the debris. Eyes burning with urgency, filled with something achingly familiar.

What... is that? Her mind struggled to form the question.

The voice rang through her mind like a bell underwater. Vedika blinked hard. Aloka…?

{Master!} The voice was small yet urgent, trembling with anxiety. The figure—a young girl—hovered before Vedika, her eyes widened with fear. {I sensed danger. I couldn’t leave you!}

{No… you shouldn’t be here.} Vedika protested weakly, her gaze locked onto Aloka’s small, chibi face. {Go away. It’s not safe…}

Aloka: {I don’t care. I’ll protect you. I promised.}

Stood grounded, through telepathy—her voice steady despite the chaos.

A laugh escaped her lips—a fragile, broken sound. {Stupid girl…}

Tears welled in her eyes, smudging soot and ash. She was proud. So proud. But the world was fading too fast.

Outside, muffled chaos echoed through the reinforced walls.

“FIRE IN THE CORE BLOCK!”

“USE FOAM—NOT WATER!”

None of it mattered now.

Aloka floated closer, her glow steadying. {You saved me multiple times. Let me protect you this time.} Her voice cut through the chaos, her determination palpable.

Vedika’s mind drifted—memories flooding in all at once.

A moment ago, everything had seemed so normal.

Shivangi’s laughter. The way her eyes lit up after a breakthrough.

Nights of coding—staying up—sleepless, sipping chai, coffee or sometimes nothing at all—just sustained by excitement and purpose.

Dancing in the twin-moon rain barefooted. Laughing like fools. Whispered secrets. Shared dreams. Fears. Loves.

The question—“Do you think we’ll ever get a normal life after this?“—and the honest silence that followed. Because neither of us knew.

Late-night interface video calls— talking, laughing, and playing with her... our daughter. And... the promise.

“We’ll come back soon, sweetheart. We promise.”

And the last moment of normalcy… sipping Aam panna, teasing and smiling.

The subtle shift in the atmosphere went unnoticed, foreshadowing this dramatic change that would alter everything. How did it all fall apart so fast?

The weight of it pressed against Vedika’s chest now like a curse. Her eyes stilled at a scorched calendar, one corner still hanging on.

Azure – Year 2545.

So this is how it ends.

“Goodbye, Azure. Goodbye, everyone.”

“Goodbye, Aishwarya... my daughter.”

Her gaze returned to Shivangi—still unmoving. Her heart ached with an impossible tenderness.

If there’s truly an afterlife, a realm beyond the veil of morality, I hope to find what I’ve lost. She thought, her mind growing quieter with each passing moment.

Her body relaxed. Her mind slowed. Her final breath slipped from her lips, carried like a prayer through fire and ash.

And then—silence.

The last thing she saw was Aloka’s determined face and Shivangi’s silhouette in the flames.

Then, darkness—