Cold.
That was the first thing I felt.
Not the soft chill of Delhi's winter mornings.
Not the cool breeze that passed through the wide veranda of our twin villas.
This cold was sharp.
Wild.
Alive.
It clung to my skin like icy fingers as the roaring sound of waves crashed into my ears.
For a long moment, I didn't open my eyes.
I thought I was still dreaming.
Maybe I had fallen asleep on the swing beneath the mango tree again.
Maybe Samantha didi was still pushing me higher and higher while Anand bhaiya shouted from below that I would fall.
Maybe Dadi was calling us all inside for dinner.
Maybe both families were already seated together on the long shared veranda.
Maybe—
A sharp pain exploded in my forehead.
"Ah…"
My eyes snapped open.
Blue.
An endless stretch of blue sky greeted me.
Clouds drifted lazily above.
The sunlight stung my eyes.
For a moment, my mind went blank.
Then the smell of salt reached me.
My breathing stopped.
This wasn't home.
I quickly sat up.
Golden sand.
Foaming waves.
Tall cliffs wrapped in green vines.
Palm trees swaying in the wind.
An island.
A completely unfamiliar island.
Fear rose in my chest.
I looked around frantically.
"Mom?"
My voice came out small.
Broken.
No answer.
"Didi?"
Nothing.
"Bhaiya?"
Only the sound of the sea.
My throat tightened.
I touched the side of my head and pulled back my hand.
Blood.
Fresh blood.
My fingers trembled.
The last thing I remembered was—
Gunfire.
Smoke.
People screaming.
Mother's voice.
Someone is shouting my name.
Then darkness.
Tears instantly filled my eyes.
I was only five and a half.
No matter how much everyone called me the darling of both the Sharma and Yadav families, no matter how much everyone said I was smarter than most children my age—
Right now, I was just a scared little boy.
Alone.
I slowly pushed myself to my feet.
My legs wobbled.
The sea wind blew against my face.
Then—
A shadow fell over me.
I froze.
Not one.
Many.
My head lifted.
And my entire body turned cold.
Twenty people stood before me.
For a second, even my breathing stopped.
They were all different.
An old man in black robes with long silver hair.
A stern military figure in uniform.
A woman in white with calm, intelligent eyes.
A swordsman with a blade taller than me.
A gentleman in a dark suit holding a cane.
A woman wearing glasses and a doctor's coat.
A young man with silver spectacles and a glowing device in his hand.
Twenty figures.
Twenty different auras.
None of them looked ordinary.
Each one felt… powerful.
Ancient.
As if they had lived a thousand lives.
The silver-haired old man stepped forward.
His presence alone made the wind feel still.
His eyes settled on me.
Deep.
Ancient.
Kind.
And terrifying.
He smiled faintly.
"At last."
His voice was calm, yet it carried across the entire shore.
"The child has awakened."
I stared at him.
My lips trembled.
"W-Who are you?"
The old man looked behind him.
The other nineteen figures stepped forward.
Then, one by one—
Golden light appeared in their hands.
Twenty glowing tokens.
Each one is different.
A sword.
A lotus.
A scale.
A coin.
A serpent.
A circuit.
A crescent moon.
A blazing sun.
A shadow flame.
They floated in the air like stars.
My eyes widened.
The old man's smile deepened.
Then he spoke the words that would change my life forever.
"We are fated to become your masters."
Silence.
Only the waves answered.
I stared at them in disbelief.
Masters?
Why?
The military man stepped forward.
His heavy boots pressed into the sand.
His broad shoulders and commanding presence instantly reminded me of Dadu.
General Raghav Sharma.
The legendary head of India's armed forces.
The man everyone respected.
The man who always lifted me into the air and called me his little tiger.
The thought of him made my heart ache.
I bit my lip.
"I want to go home."
For the first time, my voice shook.
The woman in white stepped closer.
Her eyes softened.
"You will."
She knelt before me.
"But before that, you must become strong."
The man in the dark suit adjusted his cufflinks.
"Strong enough to control wealth."
The swordsman rested his hand on his blade.
"Strong enough to defeat your enemies."
The doctor smiled gently.
"Strong enough to protect the people you love."
The old man lifted the central token.
A brilliant golden light reflected in my eyes.
"Mukul Sharma."
His voice became solemn.
"You are not here by accident."
"You are the chosen heir."
"The one destined to inherit the Twenty Guilds."
The words struck me like thunder.
Twenty Guilds?
Heir?
I didn't understand.
But then memories flooded my mind.
The twin villas.
No walls.
No boundaries.
One home shared by the Sharma and Yadav families.
The giant shared veranda.
The mango tree.
The neem tree.
The swing hangs between them.
I could still hear the laughter of my siblings and cousins.
Still feel Samantha Didi's hand on my head.
I still hear Anand bhaiya teasing me.
Still smell the evening chai and pakoras that both families ate together.
I was the youngest.
The most pampered.
The darling of both homes.
And now—
I was gone.
My small fists clenched.
The old man's gaze sharpened.
"Do you wish to return?"
I looked up.
Somewhere beyond this sea was my family.
Searching.
Crying.
Waiting.
A strange fire ignited inside my chest.
I wiped my tears.
Then slowly nodded.
"Yes."
The military master smiled faintly.
"Good."
The old man extended the first token toward me.
A golden emblem engraved with a sword and shield.
The moment it touched my hand—
A voice echoed in my mind.
War token recognised.
Heir confirmed.
Legacy initiated.
The sea roared.
The sky darkened for a moment.
The twenty masters bowed their heads.
And the old man spoke the final words of the day.
"From this moment onward…"
"Your journey begins."
I tightened my grip on the token.
For the first time since waking up—
The fear inside me began to transform.
To resolve.
I would become stronger.
I would survive.
And one day—
I would return home.