Sam lay on her lap, his head nestled against her like a child seeking comfort. His long limbs curled beside her, as if trying to disappear into himself. Azhini sighed, threading her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. She wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, but strangely, it didn’t make her uncomfortable.

  "Scared you that much, huh?" she murmured, staring at the flickering candlelight.

  Sam mumbled something unintelligible.

  She allowed him to stay there, her mind drifting.

  Master Thavachelvan.

  That voice that had guided her, given her clarity. That eccentric, infuriating, brilliant old man who had once told her, “A good question is more dangerous than a bad answer.”

  And then, inevitably, her thoughts wandered further—to a certain someone and his peculiar letters.

  Even now, just thinking about them, a light heat crept up her cheeks.

  ---

  Kavin’s Letter

  To Dr. Azhini Nadarajan, The Architect of My Suffering (And Possibly My Salvation?)

  Dear Azhini,

  I know you won’t complain about how long it took me to write this letter (openly, of course), but let me remind you that time moves differently here. If I told you it’s only been a few days since I got here, would you believe me? No? Fine. Neither would I.

  The point is,

  I met your mentor Mr. Thavachelvan. Yes, the Thavachelvan. The one you kept mentioning in a tone of reverence that I assumed was reserved for ancient sages or mythical beings. Thank you (note the sarcasm) for introducing such a character into my life. Really, from the bottom of my heart. If I survive this, I will never forget your generosity.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Honestly, I had only planned to ask him about pranayama-based suspended animation and other techniques that might help induce it. You know, a few discussions, maybe some insights, and then I’d be on my way. Simple. Logical. But the moment I asked my first question, he looked at me—like he was evaluating my very existence—and said, “Knowledge only goes to those who suit it. Do you suit the answer you seek?”

  And that’s when my life took a very sharp, unexpected turn.

  What followed can only be described as a descent into well-organized torture. He didn’t just give me answers—he made me earn them. He threw me into a hellish training routine where every muscle in my body and nerves of my brain screamed betrayal. I couldn't escape. I couldn't even reply to you. Digital devices? Prohibited. Free time? Non-existent. At one point, I even started questioning if I had asked something deeply forbidden. Or if you had secretly recommended me for this suffering as payback for all my sarcasm.

  But here’s the part I didn’t expect. Somewhere along the way, amidst the exhaustion and frustration, I started to respect him. Not just as a teacher, but as someone who gets it. I see why you remember him as your guru forever. He’s… something else. A storm and a guide rolled into one. And strangely enough, I think he sees something in me too. Maybe a bit of himself. Maybe potential. Maybe just another idiot who won’t give up.

  I don’t know if I like him. But I know he likes me—probably in the same uncertain way I feel about him. And if that’s the case, I can confidently say… it runs in the lineage, doesn’t it?

  Now, tell me, Azhini—do you suit the answer this question seeks?

  With hopes, Your Kavin.

  ---

  "Evil bastard," she muttered. "Good with words."

  Sam, still resting against her, cracked one eye open. "Who are you cursing now?"

  "Nobody. Just someone who owes me a lot of compensation."

  "Sounds like a personal grudge."

  "It is a personal grudge."

  She shook off the lingering warmth in her chest. No use thinking about him now. There were bigger things at hand.

  "Forget him," she said briskly. "Tell me about the first zone. Our mission is Sūryā?raya, not nostalgia."

  Sam blinked. "Wow. Now you’re back to yourself."

  Then, without warning, he sat upright and hugged her tight.

  Azhini stiffened. "Okay, okay—alright. I get it. Are you going to talk or not?"

  Sam let go, grinning. "I’m talking, I’m talking!"

  He leaned back and began narrating everything he had observed.

  She learnt the situation of first zone from Sam. The seemingly modern faction is not modern, in the cloak of modernity they actually indulge in various prestigious pleasure activities yet their mind is not evolved into real modern thoughts. Contrary to the modern the orthodox still has the impartiality of the Sun.Azhini leaned forward, absorbing every word. "So… the situation is unstable."

  "Very," Sam confirmed.

  "But that’s the Monarch’s problem, not ours," Azhini said, cracking her knuckles. "We only care about Sūryā?raya."

  Unfortunately, Sam hadn’t found a single lead on the Gem of Authority. Not even whispers.

  "The only place that might have records is the library in the first zone," he said.

  "So I have to go to the first zone."

  Sam nodded. "And the first step?"

  Azhini exhaled.

  "The Ranked Doctor Examination."

  It was set to take place in ten days.

  No time to waste.

  She stood up, rolling her shoulders. "Alright. Time to prepare."

  Sam gave her a mock salute. "I’ll be your test subject. Ishaan can be your assistant. And your father—"

  "Will make

  sure I don’t collapse before the actual exam," she finished, smirking.

  Sam grinned. "Exactly."

  What does our title of this chapter mean?