I only act vaillain

Chapter 3: The Awakening

A sharp scream pierced the air as Atharva jolted awake, clutching his body in agony. His breath came in ragged gasps, and sweat drenched his face. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, as though he had been ripped apart and stitched back together with clumsy hands.

"What is happening to me?" he muttered, his voice hoarse and panicked. He scanned his surroundings, disoriented.

The room was small, cramped, and utterly filthy. Dishes and utensils were strewn about haphazardly, and a nauseating stench wafted from unwashed vessels in the sink. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs clung to the corners. It was a far cry from the construction site he last remembered.

Atharva's heart raced as fragmented memories of his death flooded his mind—the falling iron bar, the sharp, blinding pain, and the eerie sense of his soul drifting into a void. That memory felt real, vivid in a way no dream ever could. He was certain of one thing: he had died.

"Where… am I?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

He stumbled to his feet, his body still aching, and caught sight of a cracked mirror on the wall. The reflection staring back at him was not his own—or at least, not the one he remembered.

Gone was the rugged, weathered face of a man in his forties who had spent years under the scorching sun and the weight of unfulfilled dreams. Instead, he saw a young man of twenty-four, with fair skin, sharp features, and a lean but well-built physique. His jet-black hair fell messily over his forehead, and his deep-set eyes glimmered with youth and vigor.

"This… this isn't me," Atharva murmured, touching his face in disbelief. His fingers trembled as he traced his jawline and ran them through his hair. It felt real, tangible, yet utterly surreal.

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain erupted in his head. He clutched his temples as flashes of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind—scenes of a life he hadn't lived, emotions that weren't his own, and a name that echoed repeatedly: Atharva.

The pain subsided as quickly as it had come, leaving him gasping for air. He slumped to the floor, clutching his knees. The torrent of memories left him reeling, but as he pieced them together, a grim understanding dawned on him.

"This body's name… it's the same as mine," he realized, his voice tinged with unease.

The memories weren't just random fragments—they belonged to the original owner of this body. This Atharva, like him, had been an aspiring actor, an orphan who had dared to dream of making it big on the silver screen. But his journey had been cruelly cut short.

The young Atharva had worked tirelessly to break into the industry, but his struggles culminated in a devastating betrayal. A breakthrough role he had landed in a major film was stolen from him by the producer's nephew. When he protested on set, he was publicly humiliated and thrown out like trash. Unable to bear the shame and despair, he had ended his life by consuming sleeping pills.

Atharva looked around the room again, now understanding the chaos. The unkempt state of the apartment, the scattered belongings, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness—it all reflected the mental turmoil of the previous owner.

A lump formed in Atharva's throat. He felt a strange mix of emotions: pity for the young man who had suffered so much, guilt for inhabiting his body, and a grim determination to honor the life that had been cut short.

He placed a hand on his shoulder, as if addressing the soul of the body's former owner. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll take better care of your body. I'll make sure your dreams aren't wasted."

With that, he stood up, brushed off the dust on his clothes, and set to work. The first step was cleaning up the mess around him. He began tidying the room, scrubbing the dirty dishes, and sweeping away the layers of neglect.

As he worked, he spotted a calendar pinned to the wall. The date caught his eye: April 2, 2016.

"2016?" Atharva froze, his mind racing. "What is going on? Have I been reincarnated into the past?"

The thought unsettled him. Was this some kind of second chance, or was it something far stranger? He continued cleaning in silence, his thoughts spiraling into confusion.

Once the room was in a livable state, he stumbled upon a fifty-rupee note lying on the table. His eyes widened as he picked it up. The face on the note wasn't one he recognized. It wasn't Mahatma Gandhi, the image he had seen his entire life.

Instead, it was Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose.

"What…?" Atharva muttered, turning the note over in his hands. "Is this fake?"

Doubt filled his mind as he reached for a nearby wallet on the counter. Inside, he found a crisp five-hundred-rupee note. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the face printed on it: Bhagat Singh.

"What is this?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "This… this can't be right. The Reserve Bank of Bharat?"

The words stared back at him, undeniable and unchanging. Bharat, not India.

Atharva's breath quickened as a chilling realization gripped him. "This isn't the world I knew," he murmured. "This… this is something else entirely."

The notes, the names, the unfamiliarity—it all pointed to one conclusion. Somehow, he wasn't just in the past. He was in an alternate version of reality, a world different from the one he had left behind.

"An alternate world?" Atharva whispered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. "Like those Marvel movies?"

The absurdity of the situation would have made him laugh if it weren't for the sheer weight of the reality he faced. He wasn't just given a second chance—he was thrust into a new and strange world.

As the gravity of his situation settled in, Atharva clenched his fists. "If this is a second chance, I won't waste it," he vowed, his voice filled with newfound resolve. "No matter what this world is, no matter what it throws at me… I'll make it."

With that promise to himself, Atharva stood tall, ready to face whatever this alternate world had in store for him.

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Author note:-

:- support the story with power stones for extra chapters and motivation

:- new book so add it to collection guys