Episode 0

In the dim-lit attic, where sunlight tiptoed through cobweb-laden windows, Aman's fingers delicately traced the dust-laden edges of forgotten relics. The air was thick with the musty scent of aged memories, and amidst the long-forgotten furniture, "Diary 1954" beckoned like an ancient oracle.

The wooden floor groaned beneath Aman's weight as he approached the trunk, its faded exterior reflecting decades of neglect. As he lifted the lid, a gust of history swept over him, revealing an array of forgotten treasures. Yet, it was the aged book that captured his attention—the keeper of a narrative lost to time.

"2000–1954," Aman whispered, his breath a delicate disturbance in the silent sanctuary of the attic. The book, weathered and worn, seemed to hold the whispers of bygone eras within its pages. Aman's eyes widened as he turned the cover, revealing the name "Parashuram" etched in fading ink.

Lost in the tendrils of history, Aman's curiosity became a silent witness to the drama that unfolded within the attic's embrace. Shadows danced on the walls, casting echoes of a past long tucked away. Yet, amidst the relics, a man with an inquisitive gaze emerged.

Aman, now the protagonist in this attic theater, began to unravel the layers of Parashuram's story—a tale of familial discord and mystical encounters. The past, once silent, now echoed in the attic's hidden corners, and Aman found himself captivated by the unfolding drama within the pages of "Diary 1954." His curious mind immediately began counting the years to determine how long the book had been untouched.

"Wow!" he exclaimed to himself. "This little book has been in my home for almost 50 years?" he wondered.

Being curious, Aman opened the book to find the name "Parashuram" written on the first page, thinking it must be the owner's name. He noticed a piece of paper poking out from between the pages and pulled it out to discover three papers containing the diary entries. The letter was from the same owner of the book.

Without waiting another second, Aman began to read:

"Brother, I know you've heard of 'Nashinki' very well, and in fact, this letter is about those people.

The first time our father spoke about 'Nashinki' and how their arrival brought great misfortune wherever they went, it sent chills down my spine.

This story recounts how I met the 'Nashinki' on the day when your entire 10 acres caught fire. And also, My home, right at the edge of your farm, was about to be swallowed by the flames."

**Dive back into the flashback:**

The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension as Parashuram confronted his brother Vishwas. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the flickering candlelight cast ominous shadows on their faces.

"Brother, I want the two acres near my home!" shouted the rage-filled Parashuram. "Our father has left you more than enough for your small family!"

Vishwas, stern and resolute, retorted, "He split the inheritance equally between both of us brothers, so why do you want more than my share?"

"I won't give you an inch of my land!" declared Vishwas, surprised by his younger brother's stubbornness.

"Parashuram! You have been arguing for the last two hours about wanting those two acres, but you've received your share of inheritance. So, we are closing this meeting in favor of your brother!" Declared, one of the village heads who attended the family feud meeting.

All the Members who attended settlement began leaving while murmuring about how unfair Parashuram's demands were, leaving him furious.

**Two days passed:**

On the third night, Parashuram, disguised with a cloak and mask, walked towards a farm ready to be harvested, carrying a can of oil.

The moon hung low, casting an eerie glow on the landscape as Parashuram cautiously approached the farm. The wet paddy fields seemed to shimmer in the pale moonlight.

Parashuram, with a mixture of determination and desperation, poured the liquid on the paddy. The flickering flames danced in the night, creating a sinister spectacle. Parashuram's eyes gleamed with a strange mix of satisfaction and regret as the farm burned to a crisp.

Not even two minutes passed before the flame engulfed half an acre of dry paddy field and became uncontrollable.

'Fire!' shouted voices nearby, causing Parashuram to quickly evade the area.

Shutting the door behind him, Parashuram removed his disguise and fell onto the bed, exhausted from the adrenaline rush.

Parashuram woke up unable to breathe, realizing his entire room was engulfed in smoke. Running out, he saw the entire acres on fire, advancing toward his home. Panic set in as he realized he had not only burned his brother's farm but also his own.

The night was ablaze with chaos as Parashuram ran along the farm edges. The heat of the flames was palpable, and the crackling of burning wood filled the air. A sudden explosion knocked him down, and he witnessed the fiery inferno devouring everything in its path.

As he crawled along the farm edges, a figure, disguised like a phantom, whispered to the fire.

The fire near Parashuram acted strangely, shooting towards him. Feeling like he stared into death's eyes, Parashuram crawled back with terror.

'Bhinti!' 'Jatavedas! Paratilikhita!' shouted the disguised man.

Turning around, Parashuram was shocked to see the disguised man right behind him. The fire rose slowly, forming a face in itself.

'Boy! Do you dare defy me?' roared the face in the fire.

Parashuram crawled backward, unable to comprehend. His entire body shivered with amazement as the fire attacked.

'Forgive me! Master! But I cannot allow you to kill this man!' says the disguised man!

'He has summoned me, the f for the Pettiest reason and he is in my reach! I shall devour this fool!' Says the fire and attacks Parashram.

'Vaayu deva vayati Shunyam!' shouted the disguised man.

With a swoosh, the air surrounding the fire dissipated, weakening it.

'Vaayu! Do you dare turn against me?' roared the fire.

'Aarti, avapatati!' shouted the disguised man.

Rain erupted, weakening the fire further. Villagers began to extinguish the fire from the other side.

Seeing that the situation is now under control, the disguised man begins to leave.

"Are... Are you the 'Nashinki?'" stammers Parashuram.

The disguised man stops and looks back at Parashuram from above his shoulder. "Hmm, people often call me that! I guess I am."

"I'm sorry for--" says Parashuram.

"Don't be," the disguised man interrupts. "the world still needs you."

"Never tell anyone that you were the one who caused this fire," he says and begins to walk away.

"It's him! It's him! He was

the one I saw lighting the fire! The man in the robes!" shouted a man among the group of villagers.

Parashuram hears it and realizes that the disguise is the same as the one he wore while lighting the fire. He wanted to tell the villagers that it wasn't him but remembers what the Nashinki said to him and calms down.

The villagers pursue Nashinki, while Parashuram sits.

Twenty years passed. Parashuram became a firefighter, stopping numerous fire accidents and earning respect worldwide.

"I tried my best to atone for my sins. I may post this letter, or I may never. But deep down, I will always ask for your forgiveness.

Your brother, Parashuram."

Reading the letter, Aman sat on his coffee desk, looking out the window towards his office garage. "Parashuram's firefighter," said the board.

"My great-grandfather," thought Aman.

The End.