Until 6:30, the smart system of the villa woke them with birds' songs.
Rajesh was already in the kitchen, flipping paper-thin dosas onto banana leaves.
Priya toddled in wearing unicorn pajamas, Little Sheru trotting behind like a sleepy shadow.
"Papa, the house sang to me!" she announced.
Rajesh slipped a mini masala dosa onto her plate. "That's our morning raga, beta. Eat up; we have guests at eleven.
Priya tilted her head. "Auntie Neha?"
"Different aunties and uncles. Very serious ones."
He hadn't mentioned the Garuda Force. No need to worry a two-year-old with talk of secret warrior clans.
At 10:55 the intercom chimed.
The guard's voice crackled: "Sir, three visitors. They say… they're expected."
Rajesh looked at the security feed.
A black Scorpio, no plates.
Two men, one woman; all in crisp khadi kurtas, the kind that hid weapons well.
He pressed the gate release. "Send them to the east veranda."
The east veranda overlooked the Yamuna, shaded by the old banyan.
Rajesh had set up a low teak table: steel tumblers, a brass davara set, and a flask of filter coffee brewed with beans he'd roasted himself at 3 a.m. using a whisper of divine flame, naturally.
Priya was banished to the playroom with Little Sheru and a bowl of mango cubes.
"Stay with Sheru, beta. Papa will call you when the boring meeting is over."
The guests stepped onto the veranda exactly at 11:00.
Leader: Brijesh Joshi, mid-fifties, salt-and-pepper beard, the calm of a man who'd stared down demons.
Left: Kavya Menon, late twenties, athlete's build, eyes as sharp as a kirpan.
Rohan Malhotra, early thirties, wiry, his fingers twitching like he'd missed his chakram.
Brijesh spoke first. "Mr. Kumar. Garuda Force, Unit 7. Thank you for the coffee."
Rajesh poured into three tumblers, the aroma curling like incense.
"Filter coffee is something to be shared, not interrogated over. Sit."
They sat. Kavya's eyes flickered to the banyan and then to Rajesh's hands-no calluses, no scars.
Rohan sniffed at the coffee suspiciously.
Brijesh cut to the chase. "Yesterday, 15:03 hours. A spatial rift above Delhi. Our satellites went blind. Then a pulse-originated from this pin-code. Care to explain?"
Rajesh sipped. "I came home."
Kavya leaned forward. "Home from where?"
"Somewhere far. Somewhere broken." He set the tumbler down. "I fixed it. The rift closed. No invaders, no cataclysms. You're welcome."
Rohan's hand went under his kurta. "You expect us to believe-"
Rajesh flicked a finger.
The steel tumbler in front of Rohan froze solid, coffee inside crystallised into a perfect lotus.
The temperature on the veranda dropped five degrees.
"Belief is optional," Rajesh said mildly. "Truth isn't."
Brijesh's eyes narrowed, but he raised a hand to still his team.
"We are not here to fight, Mr. Kumar. We are here to understand. The Garuda Force protects Bharat's hidden veins. If you are a new vein—or a rupture—we need to know."
Rajesh nodded.
He could erase their memories, send them wandering into Gurgaon traffic.
Yet the allies were useful. And these three smelled of duty, not greed.
He exhaled. "Ask."
Kavya: "Are you human?"
"Mostly."
Rohan: "The child?"
Rajesh's voice cooled. "Off-limits."
Brijesh: "Your power signature matches nothing in our archives. Not asura, not deva, not yaksha. What are you?"
Rajesh smiled without warmth. "A father who missed bedtime stories for ten thousand years. I came back to read them. The universe tried to stop me. It failed."
Nothing. It seemed even the Yamuna had stopped.
Brijesh interrupted him. "Will you register with the Force? We have protocols—"
"No." Rajesh stood. "But I'll give you this: I will not harm this land. If something does, call."
He flicked a cardamom pod from the table. It spun, flattened, became a thin bronze coin etched with a lotus.
"Break it. I'll come." Kavya stared at the coin as if it might bite. Rohan's fingers twitched again, but he took it. Brijesh rose last. "One more thing. The rift left residue. Time eddies. Clocks in Gurgaon ran backward for six minutes. Explain." Rajesh looked across to the playroom; Priya's laughter pealed across. "Side effect. Won't happen again." He met Brijesh's eyes. "Unless someone threatens my daughter." The message was clear. Brijesh nodded once. "Understood. We'll take our leave." As they gained the veranda steps, Priya's voice piped up from the doorway. "Papa, can the aunties and uncles have mangoes?" She stood there in her unicorn pyjamas, holding a plate of sliced alphonso, Little Sheru at her feet wearing a paper crown. Kavya's stern mask cracked; she actually smiled. Rohan knelt, accepted a slice with both hands as if it was prasad. Brijesh took one, slightly bowed to Priya. "Thank you, little princess." Rajesh watched them drive away, the bronze coin glinting in Rohan's pocket. He turned to Priya. "Come, beta. Let's test the swing." As she shrieked and pumped her legs toward the sky, Rajesh whispered to the banyan: "First contact: complete. Now, school admissions, play-dates, and hiding a divine beast in plain sight. Fatherhood is the real battlefield."