The rooftop incident left Jay with a strange heaviness in his chest — like the last note of a song that refused to fade, vibrating somewhere deep behind his ribs.
Reina insisted on walking home with him, even though her apartment was in the opposite direction.
She didn't say it out loud, but Jay knew the reason:
She didn't trust time to behave if he was left alone.
He didn't blame her.
They walked slowly along the riverside, street lamps casting halo-shaped reflections on the water. The wind was cold, carrying the faint smell of rain and electric dust.
Reina hugged her jacket tighter and finally asked,
"Can I ask something?"
Jay nodded.
"Sure."
"Why… you?"
Her voice was soft, almost gentle.
"Why would time freeze around everyone except us? Why would a tree made of gears appear? Why would—"
She stopped, overwhelmed.
Jay looked down at the pavement, hands in his pockets.
The truth was simple:
He didn't know.
But he could feel something shifting — like gears slowly clicking into place.
"I think…" Jay started, choosing his words carefully, "it's not about me. Or us. I think something old is waking up. Something that remembers me."
Reina stared at him.
"And you don't remember it?"
Jay sighed.
"Only in dreams. And even those feel stolen."
She bit her lip.
"If this is connected to the Emperor—"
Jay stopped walking.
Reina swallowed.
"You keep saying his name like you've said it a thousand times."
Jay didn't respond.
Because deep inside, she wasn't wrong.
---
The next day, Jay arrived in class early.
Too early.
The hallways were mostly empty, save for a few sleep-deprived students and janitorial drones gliding silently across the floors.
Jay stood before the school's history hologram terminal, staring at the digital index.
ARYAVART ARCHIVES
[HISTORICAL DATABASE]
> Search: ____________________
He hesitated.
Typing "Parikshit" felt like crossing a line — as if acknowledging the connection would make it real.
He exhaled and typed it anyway.
The screen flickered softly.
SEARCH RESULTS (312 FILES)
— The Rise of Aryavart
— Philosophies of the Listener King
— Disappearance of the First Sovereign
— Parikshit's Early Life
— Parikshit's Insignia (Symbol History)
— Parikshit: Anomaly or Visionary?
— Theories of Non-Linear Time in Aryavart Myth
Jay selected the third file.
A holographic image materialized — Parikshit's official portrait.
White robes. Calm eyes. Features shaped by both wisdom and suffering.
Jay leaned closer.
Those eyes…
Why did they feel like mirrors?
He scrolled down to the historical analysis.
> "Emperor Parikshit's final years were marked by increasing references to time, destiny, and rebirth. His last recorded statement:
'Time has found me again.'
This line remains the most debated phrase in modern history."
Jay read it over and over.
Time has found me again.
Time has found me again.
Time has—
A voice suddenly whispered behind him,
"You came early."
Jay nearly jumped.
Reina stood there holding two cups of warm milk tea, silver hair slightly messy from rushing.
She handed him one.
"You're impossible," she muttered. "Who searches historic anomalies before breakfast?"
Jay smiled faintly.
"Curiosity."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Curiosity… or fear?"
He looked down at the glowing hologram, the portrait staring back at him like an unanswered question.
"Both," he admitted quietly.
Reina stepped beside him, reading the display.
"Parikshit…" she murmured. "Why do you keep dreaming about him?"
Jay swallowed.
He didn't want to admit it, but the truth was rising like fog in the morning sun — slow, unwelcome, inevitable.
"…Because I think I knew him," Jay said softly.
Reina turned sharply.
"You mean… in another life?"
Jay looked at the portrait again.
For a moment, the face in the hologram wavered — just slightly — and he saw a flicker of himself in those eyes.
It only lasted a heartbeat.
But it was enough to make his breath hitch.
"I don't know," he murmured. "But something about him feels familiar. Like a name I used to say daily. A face I used to see in the mirror."
Reina stared at him, shock and confusion mixing in her expression.
"You're saying… you might be…"
Jay shook his head quickly.
"No. I'm not saying anything. I don't want to believe anything."
He stepped back from the hologram, heart pounding.
Reina watched him closely.
Then gently said,
"Then what are you looking for, Jay?"
Jay closed his eyes.
What was he looking for?
Answers?
Memories?
Reassurance that the impossible wasn't happening?
No.
He realized what he wanted was simpler.
"I'm looking for a reason," he whispered.
"A reason why time is acting like it knows me."
Reina stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Then let's find the reason together."
Jay blinked.
"What?"
Reina crossed her arms.
"You think I'm going to let you investigate temporal weirdness alone? Not a chance."
Jay opened his mouth to protest—
but the classroom holo-lights flickered.
For a split second, every screen displayed an unfamiliar symbol:
A circle.
A single vertical line through it.
A small mark at the bottom.
Jay froze.
He knew that symbol.
From the Clock Tree.
Carved into one of its roots.
Reina whispered,
"…Jay. I've seen that too. In our dream… or whatever that was."
Jay stepped forward, touching the flickering symbol with his fingertips.
The moment he did, the classroom clock stuttered.
7:58 → 7:58 → 7:58 → 7:59
Four seconds repeated.
Reina grabbed his sleeve.
"Jay…"
He stared at the symbol.
His voice barely audible.
"…It's connected to me."
The symbol glowed faintly—
then vanished.
The classroom returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
But Jay knew.
And Reina knew.
And somewhere deep beneath the city—
the Clock Tree turned another hidden gear,
and a name long erased from history began to whisper again.
Parikshit.