The heavy Mumbai air hung thick outside the sprawling Oberoi mansion. It was the evening of June 21, 2026, but the warmth of the night did nothing to cool the rising tempers. Krisha Oberoi stood near the gates, her chest tightening as she faced her boyfriend, Karan Rajput. An argument that had been brewing for weeks was finally boiling over.

"Stop lying to me, Krisha!" Karan snapped, his voice sharp with a mix of betrayal and anger. "I heard what your parents are planning. They want to get you married to that Pandu Patel!"

"Calm down, Karan," Krisha pleaded, reaching out a hand to soothe him. "We still have time. I’ll talk to them, I promise."

"No, Krisha, they won't listen," Karan said, shaking his head bitterly. "They hate me because of my grandfather. They’ll never agree to this. We just have to run. It's the only way."

"No, Karan, I can't do that," Krisha whispered.

Before Karan could reply, the heavy doors of the mansion swung open. Krisha’s parents, Mohan and Ganga, marched down the path. Fury radiated from Mohan’s face. Before anyone could utter a word, Mohan stepped forward and slapped Karan hard across the face.

"I told you to stay away from my daughter, you traitor's son!" Mohan roared.

Krisha burst into tears, her voice trembling. "Dad, please stop this!"

Ignoring his daughter's cries, Mohan grabbed Karan by the jacket, dragging him roughly toward the iron gates and throwing him out into the street. "I will get her married to a noble and good man, not someone like you!" Mohan barked.

Ganga and Mohan gripped Krisha's arms, dragging her crying and sobbing back inside the mansion.

Left alone on the pavement, Karan’s sadness hardened into pure rage. He stormed over to his car, threw himself into the driver's seat, and slammed the door. His eyes fell on an old science book resting on the passenger seat—a book written by Krisha’s grandfather, Govind. Karan flipped to the final pages, his eyes burning as they scanned the text. There it was, in black and white: his own grandfather, Kiran, branded forever as an enemy of the nation.

Because of Govind's words, the entire world hated Karan and his lineage. As he started the engine and tore down the road, his mind flashed back to the painful conversation he had shared with his mother, Tanvi, just the night before.

"Mom, why do I have to pay for a crime I didn't commit?" Karan had asked, his voice hollow with exhaustion. "I hate this entire dynasty of ours. Everyone hates us. My father died a traitor, and my grandfather is a level-A traitor they write history books about."

Tanvi’s eyes had welled with tears, the weight of a lifelong secret pressing down on her. "No one knows the real story, Karan. I never wanted to tell you this because it hurts too much. But your grandfather, Kiran, and Krisha's grandfather were actually friends."

Karan had looked up, stunned.

"They were working together on a medication to cure the entire nation from a deadly outbreak," Tanvi explained, a tear spilling down her cheek. "But as soon as they finished, Krisha's grandfather, Govind, got greedy. He wanted all the wins and the fame for himself. So, he framed Kiran and got him killed."

She embraced her son, sobbing openly. "Your father spent his entire life trying to prove Kiran's innocence, but he died while trying. Please, Karan... I know you love Krisha. She is a good girl, but her family are our enemies. Please let her go. I don't want to lose you too."

The memory fueled Karan's rage. He pressed his foot hard against the accelerator, driving recklessly through the neon-lit streets of Mumbai. Blinded by anger, he didn't see the headlights flashing from the side intersection. Another vehicle rammed violently into his car. The crunch of metal tore through the night air, and everything went black.

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Karan slowly blinked his eyes open, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling his nose. He was lying in a hospital bed. Standing over him were Krisha and her friend and co-worker, Tara, both watching him with anxious smiles.

Panicking, Karan tried to sit up, but a sharp, agonizing sensation shot through his back.

"Karan, stop, don't move," Krisha said, gently keeping him down. "You were in a severe car accident a week ago."

Karan stared at her in shock, a cold dread washing over him. "Where's my mom? I don't want to talk to you, Doctor Krisha."

"She is outside," Krisha said, her voice dropping to a painful whisper. "Karan... I know we've had our differences, but... you lost your spinal cord during the accident."

Karan froze.

Tara stepped forward, her expression grim. "We've done everything we could, Karan. But you can't walk again."

The words seemed to echo in the quiet hospital room. Karan’s voice caught in his throat, and he could only look at them in sheer terror.

**TWO DAYS LATER**

Back at his house, Karan sat in his wheelchair inside his private laboratory. The room was dark, illuminated only by the glow of his computer screens. He stared into the shadows, a heavy sadness draping over him. Hearing footsteps, he turned around to see Krisha walking in. He immediately averted his eyes in anger.

"So, let me guess," Karan said, his tone dripping with bitter sarcasm. "You're basically the love of my life, but you can't even save me? Come on, Krisha. Tell me I could walk again."

"I know it's scary, Karan," Krisha said softly, her eyes filled with sorrow. "But we've tried everything. Our senior doctor mentioned that this specific type of spinal cord injury was only ever curable once, by a certain scientist."

Karan’s posture stiffened. He turned his head back to her, eyes wide. "Krisha... who is that?"

"No one knows exactly. It's mostly treated as a rumor," Krisha replied, shaking her head. "But they say for a fact that he used to work at my grandfather's lab back in the 70s."

Without another word, Karan wheeled himself furiously over to his main terminal. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he began pulling up archives and records from the 1970s.

"This is what I have to do," Karan muttered to himself.

Krisha watched him, completely bewildered. "Umm... what exactly?"

"None of your business," Karan snapped coldly, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. "Go and marry your Pandu."

"Stop talking like this, Karan," Krisha pleaded, her voice cracking. "You know I love you."

"Close the door on your way out," Karan said, his voice dropping to a flat, unyielding whisper.

Krisha stood there for a heartbreaking moment before turning away, leaving him alone in the dark with his search.

The next day, Krisha returned to Karan’s house, her mind racing with a mix of anxiety and desperate hope. Just as she expected, she found him right back in the dark confines of his private laboratory. But the room had changed overnight. Standing in the center of the space was a massive, intimidating contraption—a giant, heavily modified wheelchair covered in an intricate array of blinking buttons, monitors, and metallic wiring.

Before she could even question it, Karan spun around in his current chair, his face illuminated by a triumphant grin. "Krisha, I cracked it! I can walk again!"

Krisha blinked, completely thrown off. "No, Karan, listen to me. I have much better news. My parents... they’ve actually agreed to our marriage."

Karan’s smile vanished, replaced by sheer disbelief. "How did that happen? Is your father dead or something?"

"Stop it, that’s not funny," Krisha said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her relief. "I threatened to kill myself if they didn't agree. And just like that, it worked. They told me to have you and your elders meet them next week to formalize everything."

Hearing this, Karan’s excitement returned tenfold. He happily drove his wheelchair in a quick circle around the room. "Oh my god! Everything is working in our favor! And this fits perfectly with my good news about me walking again."

Krisha let out a heavy sigh, stepping closer to him. "Karan, I told you before... I love you for exactly who you are. I don't care about the accident. I don't care about anything else. I am completely happy staying with you just the way you are right now."

Karan’s expression softened, a genuine, grateful smile gracing his features. "I know, Krisha, and I am so incredibly grateful to you. But I want this too. I actually found out who that scientist from the seventies was. It was my grandfather, Kiran."

Krisha gasped, her eyes widening in absolute shock. "No way... but if he's in the past, what are you planning to do?"

A slow, confident smirk spread across Karan’s face.

Meanwhile, across town at the Oberoi mansion, a far more sinister conversation was taking place. Mohan paced the floor of the study, his face dark with resentment, while Ganga stood nearby.

"That girl is completely insane," Mohan growled, shaking his head. "I just can't believe she actually tried to kill herself for that useless, broken boy."

Ganga stepped closer to her husband, her voice dropping to a cold, venomous whisper. "We need to kill him, Mohan. That is the only way this ends."

Back in the laboratory, unaware of the target on his back, Karan was laying out his impossible plan to a deeply skeptical Krisha.

"Time travel?" Krisha burst out laughing, shaking her head. "God, Karan, where is the man I fell in love with? What happened to you?"

"Babe, this is real," Karan insisted, his tone dead serious. "Think of it like a wrinkle in time."

Krisha’s laughter turned sharp with frustration. "Oh, yes! The children's book, right? Karan, that is completely dumb."

"No, it's not, Krisha. I know it sounds entirely impossible, but I actually did the math," Karan explained, gesturing with his hands. "In a wrinkle in time, imagine you have a piece of paper. You fold it so that Point A and Point B, which were far apart, are suddenly touching. You join those two points together, and boom—you've created a portal to the past."

Krisha crossed her arms. "Okay, fine. But how on earth would you actually do that in real life?"

"Yesterday, after you left, I hooked up my father's old supercomputer and installed a Quantum Accelerator Ring. It did all the heavy lifting and solved the equations for me," Karan said, driving his wheelchair over to the massive, button-covered contraption. "This speaker system built into the chair emits a specific sound frequency for exotic matter. That frequency gives me the exact coordinates of the wormhole. If I travel back to 1971, this frequency will ensure I step out one hundred percent error-free."

Krisha walked up to the towering chair, looking at it with deep concern. "Or you could end up turned into spaghetti across time and space. A simple sound frequency can't just take you back in time, Karan."

Karan merely smiled. He reached over, pressing a button on a small remote control. With a soft click, the doors of a nearby wardrobe slid open, revealing a sleek, black, high-tech suit that looked like it belonged to a superhero.

"There will be side effects," Karan admitted lightly. "Things like nosebleeds, glowing eyes, and minor physical strain. But this suit, tailored specifically to the supercomputer's coordinates, will protect me from the worst of it. And it's not just a sound, Krisha—it’s a precise mixture of exotic matter with negative mass."

"It's too risky, Karan," Krisha pleaded, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "What am I supposed to tell your mom? I can't lose you."

"My mom traveled to the village to look for alternative medicines for me, so she won't be around to worry," Karan said softly, taking her hands. "I promise you, I won't die. I'm just going to go meet my grandfather, he's going to fix my spine, and then I'll come right back to you. Let's get married, Krisha."

Overwhelmed, Krisha sank to her knees beside his wheelchair, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed. "How many days are you going to spend there?"

"Seventy-two hours," Karan whispered, comforting her. "And then you'll see me right back here."

Krisha managed a small, tearful smile, wiping her face. "Okay. Now help me get you ready."

With trembling hands, Krisha helped Karan pull on the heavy, high-tech suit. Once he was fully suited up, she helped him transfer into the massive command wheelchair.

Looking up at him with teary eyes, she choked out, "I love you."

Karan smiled warmly back at her. "I love you too."

He reached down and pressed the final activation button. Instantly, the air around the chair began to warp. Karan’s form blurred violently, the light refracting so intensely that Krisha was forced to shield her eyes and look away. When she looked back a second later, the chair and Karan were gone. The lab was completely empty.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the house. The heavy doors of the lab were kicked open as the thugs sent by Ganga and Mohan barged into the room. Krisha gasped in shock. The men immediately began tearing the place apart, smashing equipment and scattering papers in search of Karan. Desperate to protect his research, Krisha rushed forward to stop them, but one of the thugs struck her hard, knocking her to the floor where she went unconscious.

At the other end of time and space, Karan was hurtling through a chaotic void. A blinding silver lightning crackled all around him, searing against the exterior of his protective suit as he tore through the fabric of time.

With a sudden, jarring jolt, the turbulence stopped.

Karan opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a laboratory, but it was different—older, filled with vintage equipment and strange specimens. He realized with a jolt of adrenaline that this was his grandfather Kiran's lab in the year 1971.

Near the center of the room, a man was standing by a table, closely examining a set of skeleton bones. Hearing the sudden, bizarre commotion behind him, the man spun around. His jaw dropped, his face a mask of utter stun and confusion as he stared at the futuristic, suited figure sitting before him.

"Who... who are you?" Kiran stammered, backing away slightly. "How... where did you come from?"

Karan looked at his grandfather, a triumphant smirk spreading beneath his visor. "I am from the future."

**1971**

The air in the vintage laboratory grew heavy with tension as Karan finished recounting his unbelievable journey. Kiran stared at his future grandson, completely mesmerized. Trembling with curiosity, Kiran reached out to touch Karan's hand, wanting to confirm that the young man sitting before him was truly flesh and blood. As Karan raised his hand to meet his grandfather's touch, a sudden, unseen force erupted between them. The unknown power violently pushed Kiran backward onto the floor. Karan gasped in shock, realizing the energy had surged directly from the movement of his own hand.

Kiran sat on the floor for a moment, completely stunned, before a look of pure academic wonder washed over his face. "Oh my God... all my research is actually coming to reality! You've acquired a superpower!"

Meanwhile, inside the cozy warmth of Kiran’s nearby house, his pregnant wife, Durga, was busy preparing lunch. Helping her around the kitchen was their young neighbor’s daughter, Vaani, who was quietly arranging the plates.

Durga looked over at the young woman with a warm, maternal smile. "Vaani, all we truly want is for you to be happy and finally get married."

Vaani’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She quickly looked away, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Auntie, when the time is right, the right person will come."

Durga smiled affectionately, but Vaani trailed off, her eyes drifting toward the window as she secretly imagined what her true love would look like.

Back in the laboratory, Kiran was pacing excitedly around Karan's wheelchair, his mind racing with scientific calculations.

"In physics, it’s called Temporal Manipulation," Kiran explained, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "It's a rare phenomenon where a person acquires certain superpowers while traveling through the fabric of time. Son, I am going to help you identify the full extent of these powers, and more importantly, I will find a cure for your spinal cord injury."

Relief washed over Karan, a heavy weight lifting from his shoulders. "Thank you so much, sir."

Kiran smiled warmly, then hesitated, a spark of pride in his eyes. "What is the future like, anyway? I am a popular, celebrated scientist, right?"

Karan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a pang of guilt hitting him as he thought of the history books branding his grandfather a traitor. Forcing a nervous smile, he lied. "Yes. You are so popular."

Kiran beamed with pure excitement. "Wonderful! But listen, don't say a single word to your grandmother about any of this. She is pregnant with your father right now, and she absolutely cannot know that you are from the future."

Karan nodded understandingly. With the ground rules set, Kiran helped him change out of his high-tech bodysuit.

Moments later, Karan was dressed in a set of Kiran's regular, era-appropriate clothes. Kiran pushed the wheelchair through the front door of the house and into the dining area. Vaani, who was still busy arranging the dining table, froze the exact moment she saw Karan.

Time seemed to slow down as Karan and Vaani locked eyes. Looking at him, Vaani’s heart skipped a beat; he looked exactly like the true love she had just been imagining in her dreams. Flustered, she quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks burning. Kiran and Karan joined Durga and Vaani at the table.

"Durga, this is my new patient from the south," Kiran announced cheerfully. "He will be staying with us for a little while."

Karan and Durga exchanged warm, polite greetings. Sensing the overwhelming tension in her own chest, Vaani nervously stood up from her chair.

"Auntie, I think I’ll be heading home now," Vaani stammered, avoiding Karan's gaze. "My mother must be waiting for me."

Kiran looked up, confused. "Since when? I thought this was your new home until eleven o'clock at night."

Vaani fidgeted nervously, casting a quick glance at Karan, who was already busily eating his lunch. Durga, noticing the young girl's sudden awkwardness, smiled knowingly.

"Give her my regards," Durga said gently to Vaani. "Go on, beta."

Vaani gave a quick, grateful smile and hurried out the door.

"What is up with her today?" Kiran muttered, shaking his head. Durga simply smiled to herself and kept eating.

The moon hung high over Mumbai. Karan sat in his wheelchair by the open guestroom window, looking out at the city as it existed in 1971. His eyes wandered across the courtyard to the opposite building, where he caught sight of Vaani through her own open bedroom window. She was listening to music, dancing joyfully, and animatedly talking to herself in the mirror.

A wide smile spread across Karan's face as he watched her. *People from the seventies are unbelievable,* he thought to himself, thoroughly amused. *What on earth is she doing?*

As if sensing his gaze, Vaani suddenly turned toward her window and realized Karan was watching her. She froze in utter surprise and embarrassment. Gasping, she quickly slammed her window shut. Karan laughed softly from his room, and behind the closed curtains, Vaani couldn't help but smile too.

While the young segment of the house was distracted, Kiran spent the entire night locked away in his laboratory. He worked tirelessly, driven by a dual obsession: unlocking the mechanics of a time machine just like Karan's futuristic wheelchair, and synthesizing a definitive cure for his grandson’s paralyzed spine.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, but Karan was still fast asleep. Durga sent Vaani to the guestroom to wake him up for breakfast. Vaani quietly pushed the door open and walked in, but stopped dead in her tracks. Karan was sleeping shirtless.

Vaani froze, her eyes widening in pure admiration as she took in his physique. Suddenly, she noticed him stirring. Realizing he was about to wake up, she panicked and quickly spun around, her back to him, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Karan blinked his eyes open, groggily rubbing his face. "Huh?"

"Auntie said... she said I should call you for breakfast," Vaani squeaked, her voice tight with shyness. Without waiting for a response, she bolted out of the room.

Karan stared at the empty doorway, a bemused smile on his face. *Why is she so skittish?*

The thought immediately made him think of Krisha. A wave of fondness washed over him. *I can't wait to get back and tell Krisha all about this crazy adventure,* he thought, smiling warmly.

After breakfast, Kiran eagerly led Karan back into the laboratory. Karan’s jaw dropped when he saw what was sitting in the corner. Kiran had successfully built his very own version of the command wheelchair time machine.

"You are truly my grandfather," Karan said in absolute surprise, staring at the machine. "You managed to create this in just one single night? Wow."

Kiran smiled widely, bursting with pride. "It amazes me too, Karan. Even though I have no intention of using it, I just like looking at it. It’s pure art." He then turned toward a tray of medical instruments, his expression turning serious. "And more importantly, I’ve officially engineered a cure for your spinal cord injury."

Karan’s breath hitched in his throat. "How? How did you do it?"

Kiran smiled confidently, picking up a syringe filled with a strange fluid. "It was actually quite simple. I took a sample of your blood while you were asleep last night and mixed it with a controlled strain of carbon monoxide poisoning. In a normal human, it would be dangerous, but in your superpowered body, it acts as a catalyst to set your cellular structure free. With this single injection, you will walk again."

Without wasting another moment, Kiran stepped forward and administered the injection into Karan's arm.

Almost instantly, Karan's head began to spin. A wave of intense dizziness washed over him, and his eyes suddenly flared with a bright, terrifying glow. The atmospheric pressure in the room shifted violently. Within seconds, the window panes shattered into thousands of pieces, the glass raining down as Kiran watched in absolute horror.

Karan let out a deafening scream of agony and power, throwing his hands high into the air. The sheer force radiating from his body ripped the heavy ceiling fans right off their mounts, crashing them into the floor as Kiran looked on in sheer shock and terror.