The sun rose over Varanasi Megacity, casting a pale golden hue on the futuristic skyline. Seven towering cities stood tall, home to millions, while the vast wild sanctuaries of the Eastern Megaregion sprawled out beyond their borders. Life in Varanasi had resumed its normal pace after the devastating blast at the Kashi Residential Complex six months ago, yet the whispers of that fateful night still lingered in the air like a bad dream. The investigation had hit a dead end; no leads, no suspects, no motive. It was as though the shadows that had caused the explosion had vanished into thin air.
For weeks after the blast, the city was on edge. Security was tightened, and every corner of the complex's rubble was examined. But no answers came. Eventually, the case was labeled "unsolved," leaving the families of the victims with nothing but silence and empty promises. The city moved on, its bustling life resuming, though there was always an undercurrent of unease.
Within the orphanage, however, life had taken a different turn. The baby boy, Dhruvansh, who had miraculously survived the destruction, was now a part of the daily rhythm of the Agastya Family Orphanage. Karna and Devi Agastya, who had taken him in, were instantly smitten by the curious glint in the infant's eyes. He wasn't like other children. At just six months old, he showed an unusual alertness, responding to sounds and voices in ways that startled the other caretakers.
As the months passed, Dhruvansh began to explore his surroundings with an intensity that seemed beyond his age. On his first birthday, celebrated on January 1st, the entire orphanage was filled with laughter, decorations, and cheerful chaos. The other children adored him, and Karna and Devi had quickly become his "Maa" and "Papa," as he called them in the tender, slurred speech of a young child.
"Maa, who is that boy?" Dhruvansh would often ask, pointing to the older kids playing outside.
"That's Sushil, he's a little older than you, beta," Devi would reply with a soft smile, amazed at his curiosity. Most one-year-olds didn't ask questions about their surroundings, but Dhruvansh's inquisitiveness was constant.
He had a peculiar habit of tilting his head when he heard conversations between the adults, as though he were trying to understand something deeper. And when they spoke directly to him, his eyes locked onto theirs, wide with attention.
By the time he turned two, Dhruvansh had already begun attending the local preschool, though it became quickly apparent that he was no ordinary child. While the other kids struggled to identify colors and numbers, Dhruvansh was grasping concepts far beyond his years. He could read fluently, perform basic calculations, and had a memory that seemed almost photographic.
"Papa, why does the moon change shapes?" he asked Karna one evening while they sat in the orphanage's small garden.
Karna smiled, rubbing his hand through his beard. "It's because the Earth moves around the sun, and the moon moves around the Earth. The light we see changes based on the moon's position."
Dhruvansh stared up at the sky, his little brows furrowing as if digesting the information far more deeply than a toddler should.
By the age of three, Dhruvansh had completed the curriculum of fourth standard. His preschool teachers were astonished, though Karna and Devi were quietly becoming concerned. Their little boy wasn't just smart—he was gifted in a way that seemed almost unnatural. While other children his age were still learning how to form sentences, Dhruvansh was solving problems in mathematics, science, and computers that baffled adults.
One evening, as Karna and Devi were settling down for the night, they sat together in the orphanage's small office, discussing the children's progress.
"Anjali's doing well," Devi said, looking through her notes. "Her language skills have really improved."
Karna nodded. "Same with Ramesh, he's picked up on self-defense techniques faster than I expected."
When they got to Dhruvansh, they exchanged a glance, the weight of their unspoken thoughts heavy in the air.
"He's... different, Karna," Devi whispered, almost as though speaking louder would make the situation more real. "He's not just ahead of the other children. He's ahead of everyone his age. How can a three-year-old know how to solve problems that adults struggle with?"
Karna sighed. "I've noticed it too. But we can't push him too hard. Let's just see where it goes. We'll keep him here for now, away from the attention of the outside world."
As they walked through the quiet hallways of the orphanage, the lights were mostly off, with the children fast asleep. But as they passed the library, they noticed something strange. The light inside was on.
"That's odd," Karna muttered, checking his watch. "It's 10 PM. No one should be in there."
Devi frowned. "The staff's gone to their quarters, and the children are supposed to be asleep."
They tiptoed silently to the library, peering through the glass window. Inside, they saw a small figure moving between the shelves, pulling books down, flipping through pages.
It was Dhruvansh.
Karna and Devi let out a quiet sigh of relief but quickly grew curious. What was he doing so late at night? They decided to confront him.
They opened the door, and as soon as Dhruvansh saw them, he froze. The book in his hand slipped behind his back as though he was trying to hide it.
Karna grinned, deciding to tease him. "Dhruvansh, what are you hiding behind your back?"
Devi followed with a mock-serious tone. "And what are you doing here so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
The boy's eyes widened in fear, his little hands trembling as he clutched the book behind him. He stumbled back, falling on his bottom, tears welling up in his eyes. Karna and Devi had never spoken to him in such a stern voice before, and the shock of it hit him hard.
Seeing the fear in his eyes, Karna and Devi immediately regretted their teasing. Devi knelt down, reaching out to him. "Oh no, beta, don't cry. We were just teasing. We didn't mean to scare you."
Karna softened as well, bending down to Dhruvansh's level. "We're sorry, buddy. What are you reading?"
Dhruvansh wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and slowly revealed the book—9th standard mathematics. Along with it were a few science and computer programming books, with several rough notes and complex calculations scribbled in a notebook.
Karna and Devi exchanged a look of shock.
"You're... reading these?" Karna asked, flipping through the pages of the notebook, filled with chemical equations, derivations of force and momentum, and even basic computer program syntax.
Not believing it, they tested him. "Dhruvansh, can you solve this?" Devi pointed to a complicated equation involving permutations and combinations.
Without hesitation, Dhruvansh rattled off the answer, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Devi's mouth hung open. "How... how do you know all this?"
The boy blinked up at them, still sniffling slightly. "I just... like reading. I want to know more."
Karna and Devi shared a look, and without speaking, they came to the same decision.
"From tomorrow," Karna said, crouching down to Dhruvansh's height, "Maa and I will teach you. Everything we know. But no more sneaking into the library at night, okay?"
Devi added, "And don't worry about school. We'll decide when the time is right if you need to go back."
Dhruvansh's face lit up with a smile, nodding eagerly. "Okay, Papa. I promise."
And so began Dhruvansh's intense, personalized education. For the next two years, Karna and Devi devoted themselves to their son's intellectual growth. Karna taught him the ways of the Force Council—tactics, physical fitness, and discipline—while Devi filled his mind with the knowledge of biology, chemistry, and advanced mathematics. At the same time, Dhruvansh devoured the contents of the orphanage's library, absorbing knowledge like a sponge.
By the age of five, Dhruvansh was no longer an ordinary child. His mind held a reservoir of information that rivaled even the most learned scholars. And though he still had the innocence of a child, both Karna and Devi knew that his destiny was unlike any other.