After the intense experience of eavesdropping on the sinister conversation between Shakuni and Duryodhana, Shubham felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He realized that he had been deeply engrossed in the game for what felt like hours, and a gnawing concern began to form in the back of his mind. How much time has actually passed in the real world? he wondered. Deciding it was time to take a break and return to his reality, Shubham quietly made his way back to his room, intending to log out and rest.
Standing in the dimly lit chamber, Shubham took a deep breath and said, "Leave game." He waited for the familiar sensation of being pulled out of the VR world, expecting to see the interface screen or feel the slight pressure release of the VR headset. But nothing happened. The surroundings remained unchanged, and he was still in the grand room of the palace, with the weight of Arjun's clothes and armor pressing against his skin.
A flicker of panic began to rise in his chest. He repeated the command, more urgently this time, "Leave game!" But again, there was no response. The richly decorated walls of Hastinapura stood silent around him, the air heavy with the stillness of the night.
His heart rate quickened as he attempted to manually remove the VR headset, reaching up to his head, expecting to feel the familiar contours of the device. But as his fingers brushed against his scalp, Shubham froze. There was no headset—nothing but his own hair and the sensation of his hand. His breath caught in his throat as he frantically patted around his head, his face, and his neck. There were no glasses, no wires, nothing that connected him to the outside world.
Shubham's mind raced, his thoughts a blur of disbelief and terror. This can't be real. It's just a game, right? But the weight of Arjun's clothes, the texture of the fabric against his skin, the scent of the oil lamps burning in the room, and the distant sounds of the palace guards echoed around him—all of it felt so overwhelmingly real.
He looked down at himself, his hands trembling as he saw the ornate bracers adorning his wrists, the finely woven silk of his tunic, and the sturdy leather of his sandals. Every detail was perfect, down to the smallest thread and the subtle flicker of torchlight reflecting off his armor. This wasn't just a simulation; it was as if he had truly become Arjun, the legendary warrior of the Mahabharata.
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as the gravity of his situation dawned on him. I'm not in a game anymore. I'm really here. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Shubham was no longer just playing as Arjun—he had somehow become Arjun, living in the world of the Mahabharata, with no apparent way to return to his previous life.
Desperation clawed at him as he tried once more to call out the game's exit command, but the only response was the echo of his own voice in the empty room. He was trapped, with no idea how or why this had happened, and no clear path back to the reality he once knew.
Taking a deep breath, Shubham tried to calm the rising tide of panic. If I'm stuck here, then I have to think like Arjun, he told himself. I have to stay strong and figure this out. He knew that, for now, there was no other choice but to continue living in this world, to follow the path of the Mahabharata as best as he could, while searching for a way back.
As he settled onto the bed, the silk sheets cool against his skin, Shubham realized that his journey had taken a turn he could never have imagined. No longer just a player in a virtual reality game, he was now living within the very fabric of the epic itself. And whatever trials awaited him, he would face them not just as Shubham, but as Arjun—the warrior, the hero, and now, the key to his own survival in this ancient world.