The next morning began the same way — an alarm, a sigh, and the gentle hum of a city that seemed too perfect for its own good.
Jay brushed his teeth with half lidded eyes, staring blankly into the mirror.
Same messy hair. Same tired stare. Same guy pretending that none of it felt strange.
He washed his face and whispered to his reflection,
"Day three of being here as a normal guy… still weird."
The mirror did not disagree. Though Non living had no life form yet it did not disagree because the was Jay who nodded in agreement.
---
When he arrived at school, the hallways buzzed louder than usual. A history seminar was scheduled — one of those special "Empire Legacy" lectures where every student had to attend.
Jay slipped into his seat by the window as usual. Outside, the solar trees shimmered under a pale gold sky, their mechanical leaves turning sunlight into power.
The holographic bell rang. The teacher — an older man with calm eyes and a voice that carried like rain on glass — walked in.
"Good morning, everyone," he said softly. "Today's lesson might feel different. We'll discuss the man who changed everything — the one who founded this very empire you live in."
He pressed a control panel, and the entire room dimmed. A vast hologram unfolded — a portrait of a man in simple robes, standing beneath a sprawling tree, swordless yet dignified.
> Emperor Parikshit — The First Sovereign of Aryavart.
Jay leaned forward slightly. For some reason, that name made something flicker in his chest — a whisper of recognition that shouldn't have existed.
---
> "Fifty years ago," the teacher began, "the world was crumbling under chaos — social media wars, political corruption, crumbling ecosystems.
And yet, out of that noise rose a group of prodigies who believed intelligence could heal humanity.
Parikshit was the last to join them — but the first to understand what they lacked: soul."
The hologram shifted. Now it showed a young Parikshit sitting cross-legged before a burning sunrise. His eyes were calm, unreadable.
> "He once said, 'Wisdom without empathy is tyranny wearing a scholar's face.'"
The class murmured quietly.
Jay's gaze didn't move. That quote — it hit too close.
---
> "Unlike the other rulers," the teacher continued, "Parikshit never conquered. He united. He was a philosopher first, a ruler second. He didn't rule Aryavart through force, but through understanding."
"Some even called him The Listener King. He believed every human, no matter how insignificant, held a truth worth hearing."
Jay rested his chin on his hand. The Listener King…
That phrase stirred something.
It reminded him of someone who used to listen, really listen — to people, to wind, even to silence.
He didn't know who that person was anymore. Maybe himself. Maybe not.
---
Reina sat next to him today, her silver hair catching the light of the hologram. She whispered, "You look like you're about to time travel."
Jay blinked. "Huh?"
"You were staring at Parikshit like he owes you money."
He chuckled under his breath. "Just thinking. He looks familiar, that's all."
She tilted her head. "You mean historically familiar?"
He shrugged. "Maybe spiritually."
The teacher continued, unaware of their quiet exchange.
> "Historians claim Parikshit's greatest mystery was his disappearance. One day, fifty years ago, he left the Aryavart Palace and was never seen again.
His last recorded words were… 'Time has found me again.'"
Jay's hand froze.
The words hit like a thunderclap muffled under calm expression.
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice low.
"What did you say his last words were?"
The teacher repeated, "Time has found me again. Strange, isn't it? Historians believe it symbolized rebirth — that the Emperor might have believed in reincarnation."
Jay leaned back slowly, his eyes unfocused.
The classroom faded into a soft blur.
---
Time has found me again.
The words looped in his mind like an old melody that refused to fade.
He didn't know why his heartbeat quickened, why the air felt heavier, or why the sound of the ticking wall clock suddenly felt too loud.
He could almost see it — a flash of golden dust, a blade of light cutting through fog, and a man standing before him, smiling as if recognizing an old friend.
And then… nothing.
The image vanished. The sound of chalk scratching against holographic glass brought him back.
"Mr. Arkwell?"
Jay blinked. "Sorry — I just… zoned out."
The teacher smiled kindly. "It happens when the past calls too loud."
Jay laughed weakly. "Yeah… something like that."
---
After class, Reina caught up with him in the corridor.
"You looked pale. You okay?"
"Yeah, just… too much history for one morning."
"Or maybe history hit too close?"
He glanced at her. She had that curious spark in her eyes again — the kind that didn't let mysteries stay buried.
He tried to brush it off. "You ever get déjà vu so strong it feels like you're remembering someone else's memories?"
"All the time," she said. "Especially when I look at the stars. Like the sky's been watching longer than I have."
Jay smiled faintly. "That's… oddly poetic."
She grinned. "Comes with the silver hair."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Right. Must be genetic."
---
By evening, he was back in his apartment.
The city outside shimmered with quiet light, and the rain had started again — soft, rhythmic, nostalgic.
He sat by the window, watching droplets slide down the glass.
Somewhere out there, an empire still bore the name of a man who had vanished — a man whose last words now haunted his thoughts.
Time has found me again.
He whispered it softly, testing how it felt on his own tongue.
It felt… familiar. Too familiar.
His reflection looked back at him, tired but calm.
"What if…" he said quietly, "I'm not the only one who got a second life?"
The rain answered with silence, but it was the kind of silence that carried meaning.
---
> Far beyond the city, in the ruins of the old world, a forgotten clock tower stirred for the first time in fifty years.
Its gears groaned, its pendulum swung, and a faint pulse of light rippled across time itself.
> Something ancient had begun to move again.