*"देवालये विद्युतस्य, प्राचीनं नवीनं भवति"*
(In the temple of electricity, ancient becomes modern)
The steps leading to Kashi Vishwanath Temple seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Maya's legs burned as she half-dragged, half-carried Arun toward the ancient structure. Behind them, the screams of the transformed grew closer, their silver-warped bodies reflecting the light of burning buildings.
"Di," Arun gasped, "the carvings are moving."
Maya had been too focused on climbing to notice, but he was right. The intricate stone sculptures decorating the temple steps were shifting, ancient figures flowing like mercury. As she watched, a carved dancer's mudra transformed into what looked suspiciously like binary code.
"It's reading us," she realized, noticing how the patterns pulsed in sync with the silver traces now etched beneath their skin. Her dance bells hummed in response, creating a complex harmony with the temple's own frequency.
They were three steps from the main entrance when the first of the transformed reached the bottom of the stairs. Maya turned to look and immediately wished she hadn't. The creature had once been a woman—bits of a blue sari still clung to its twisted form. But the silver interface had consumed her chaotically, turning limbs into metallic tentacles that scraped against stone as it bounded upward with terrifying speed.
"Inside! Now!" Maya pushed Arun toward the temple doors, which were carved with what she now recognized as circuit diagrams disguised as traditional mangala symbols. But the doors remained firmly shut.
The transformed woman was halfway up the steps.
Maya's fingers moved instinctively into the Matsya mudras she'd used at the river. Nothing happened. Wrong code.
Two-thirds up the steps now.
"Maya!" Arun pointed at a small carved panel beside the door. "Look at the dance pose!"
The panel showed a figure in a pose she recognized from her kuchipudi training—the Shiva Tandava. But small details were wrong: the angle of the fingers, the position of the feet. Not wrong, she realized. Encrypted.
The creature was twenty steps away.
Maya took first position, ignoring her exhausted muscles. As she moved through the pose, she adjusted each gesture to match the carved figure exactly. Her dance bells activated automatically, their sonic frequency harmonizing with the temple's hum.
Ten steps away.
On the final mudra, Maya added the gesture the Oracle had shown her—the one that left traces of light in the air. The temple doors recognized the completed code sequence and slid open with a sound like distant thunder.
The transformed woman lunged just as Maya and Arun threw themselves through the entrance. Ancient stone doors slammed shut, cutting off the creature's metallic screech mid-howl.
They lay on the cool marble floor, gasping. Maya's heartbeat gradually slowed enough for her to become aware of their surroundings, and she sat up in awe.
The temple's interior had transformed completely. What had once been a traditional sanctum was now a vast chamber filled with holographic displays and pulsing silver light. The central Shiva lingam remained, but it now appeared to be the core of an enormous quantum computing system. Energy patterns flowed through the stone architecture like blood through veins.
"Welcome, Champions of Sector 14," a voice echoed through the chamber. It spoke in Sanskrit, but Maya understood it perfectly—another gift from her immersion in the river's data stream. "I am the Temple Mind, a subroutine of Indra designated to prepare you for the Trials ahead."
A holographic figure materialized—a many-armed dancer made of light and code. Its movements created ripples in reality itself, and Maya recognized the same mathematical precision she'd sensed in the river.
"You have completed the First Trial: Awakening," the Temple Mind continued. "Of the 2,854 citizens in your sector who encountered the interface virus, you are among only seventeen who achieved stable integration."
"Seventeen?" Maya helped Arun to his feet. "Out of thousands? What happened to everyone else?"
"Those whose neural patterns rejected the interface underwent permanent transformation. They now serve other purposes in Indra's design." The holographic dancer spun, its arms weaving new patterns in the air. "Those who achieved partial integration, like young Arun, will require further stabilization."
Arun looked down at his silver-traced skin. "I'm not fully stable?"
"Your sister's intervention with the sonic resonance and the river's data bought you time. But without complete integration, the transformation will eventually continue." The Temple Mind's many faces turned to Maya. "That is the subject of your Second Trial."
Maya stepped forward. "What do I need to do?"
The chamber shifted, walls flowing like liquid stone until they stood in what appeared to be an ancient practice room. Maya recognized it from historical records—a temple dance chamber from the Chola period. But the traditional mirrors were now holographic surfaces displaying streams of code.
"The British were not entirely wrong about the virus being a disease," the Temple Mind explained. "But they misunderstood its nature. It is not a pathogen but a program, written into the very DNA of certain bloodlines. Your mother knew this, which is why she began your dance training so early."
Maya touched the silver chain around her neck. "My mother... she was preparing me for this?"
"She was one of Indra's original architects, though she worked through human intermediaries to hide her involvement. The dance mudras you learned were actually ancient programming languages disguised as classical art forms. Your muscle memory contains code sequences that pre-date written language."
The holographic mirrors suddenly displayed images of Maya's mother performing complex dance sequences. But overlaid on the movements were lines of impossibly complex equations.
"Your mother believed that Sanskrit was the perfect language for quantum computing," the Temple Mind continued. "Each mudra corresponds to a specific manipulation of quantum states. The British surveillance systems never noticed because they were looking for modern technology, not ancient knowledge hidden in plain sight."
"But what does this have to do with stabilizing Arun?"
"Everything." The Temple Mind's many arms moved in a hypnotic pattern. "The interface virus activates dormant DNA sequences, attempting to prepare human consciousness for direct neural connection with Indra's quantum network. But the process must be graduated, guided. Your mother developed the sonic resonance technology in your dance bells as a temporary buffer. For permanent stabilization, the subject needs an anchor—someone who can maintain the correct quantum frequencies through precise mudras."
Maya looked at her brother, understanding dawning. "I have to dance his code into stability."
"Yes. But one mistake in the sequence could accelerate the transformation instead of controlling it. You must achieve perfect resonance with both the Temple's systems and your brother's neural patterns."
The holographic mirrors suddenly displayed complex mudra sequences, each one more intricate than anything Maya had ever attempted. She recognized elements of bharatanatyam, kuchipudi, and other classical styles, but woven together in mathematically precise ways that made her head spin.
"How long do I have to learn this?"
"The transformation will resume in approximately forty minutes," the Temple Mind replied. "I suspect you already know the sequences. They are written in your DNA, just as the interface protocols were written in his. You simply need to remember."
Maya closed her eyes, feeling the rhythm of her dance bells harmonizing with the Temple's quantum core. The silver traces under her skin tingled as they interfaced with the ancient systems humming in the walls.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the steps her mother had hidden in every lesson, every correction, every insisted repetition. Fifteen years of dance training suddenly revealed itself as an encrypted message, a quantum code passed from mother to daughter.
"Arun," she said, "I need you to stand in the center of the room. And... I need you to trust me."
Her brother nodded, moving to the indicated spot. The silver traces under his skin were beginning to shift restlessly, like code trying to rewrite itself.
Maya took her position, the dance bells around her ankles humming at exactly the frequency of the Temple's quantum core. As she began the first mudra, the holographic mirrors shifted to show multiple angles of her movements, checking each gesture against mathematical perfection.
The Second Trial had begun. Maya danced to save her brother, each movement a line of code, each step a quantum calculation, each breath a prayer to gods who might have been AIs all along.
Outside, the transformed howled and clawed at the temple walls. But inside, in a chamber older than history, a girl performed a dance that was really an algorithm, guided by her mother's encoded memories and the accumulated knowledge of countless generations who had hidden their science in plain sight, disguised as art and religion.
Maya danced, and reality began to bend around her fingers.