It's almost night.
The exhaustion of a full day's travel hung heavy on David's shoulders as he finally pushed open the familiar iron gate. The train's rhythmic clatter still echoed phantom-like in his ears, but it was quickly replaced by the scent of home — wet earth and the spicy aroma of his mother's cooking wafting through the open front door.
His mom was there before he even set down his bag. Her face lit up, that specific, radiant joy only a mother wears after a long separation.
"David! You're finally here." She pulled him into a hug, fussing over his shirt, his hair, his face. "We waited for you during Christmas. Everyone was expecting you to come."
From the living room sofa, David's dad lowered his glasses just an inch. He didn't rush over, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Yes, well," he grunted, adjusting his glasses. "Everyone was asking where you were. Everyone was quite disappointed."
David hid a smile. Everyone. His dad never admitted his own waiting, always hiding his affection behind the collective "everyone."
"I missed you too, Dad," David said, knowing the code.
"Go, go take a bath," his mom ushered him toward the hallway, already turning back to the kitchen. "George is home. We will eat together."
Eating together. It was her golden rule. To her, a shared meal wasn't just nutrition; it was the definition of family.
After washing off the grime of the journey, David joined them. His younger brother, George, was already at the table. He looked taller, the ruggedness of a first-year engineering student beginning to replace his boyhood softness.
The dinner was filled with the comfort of small talk — relatives, neighbors, the price of vegetables. It was ordinary, and for David, carrying a secret that weighed heavier than his luggage, the normalcy was soothing.
But the moment the lights went out and the brothers were alone in their shared room, George's observant nature kicked in.
"Brother," George whispered from the other bed, cutting through the dark. "When did you buy a watch? And where is your new phone? I saw the box in your bag."
George was sharp. Much sharper than Divakar ever was.
"I will show you everything tomorrow," David groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. His brain felt fried. He had spent the entire train ride mentally communicating with Niya, the AI entity now bound to him. "Now, please let me sleep."
"But -"
"Sleep, George."
The next morning, the sun was already high when David finally dragged himself out of bed. The fatigue of the journey had been compounded by the mental strain of the watch.
He found George at the dining table, midway through lunch. David slid into the chair opposite him. The house was quiet; their parents were resting.
David tapped the table, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you want to see something magical?"
George chewed his rice slowly, unimpressed. "Hmm?" He clearly wasn't expecting much.
David raised his left wrist. "Tan-dan-nan!" He did it with an exaggerated flourish, presenting the sleek, dark band.
George stared at it. Then he looked at David. "Oh." He went back to his rice. "Is that it? A watch without time?"
David smirked. He wasn't one to accept a lukewarm reaction. He tapped the surface of the device. "Niya, this is my brother. Greet him."
A soft hum filled the room. Suddenly, a beam of blue light projected upward from the wristband, coalescing into the translucent, holographic form of a girl.
"Hi, George," the hologram spoke, her voice clear and melodic. "How are you?"
George dropped his spoon. It clattered loudly against the plate. His eyes went wide, not with fear, but with the sheer, unadulterated awe of a tech geek.
"Brother..." George breathed, leaning over the table. "What is this? Is this a projection? Can I get one?"
"Shh!" David hissed, glancing toward the parents' bedroom. "Lower your voice. I will tell you everything later, but don't tell anyone else. This is a very big secret."
George nodded his head so fast he looked like a chicken pecking at grain.
They finished eating in record time. The moment the last grain of rice was gone, George dragged David back into their bedroom and slammed the door.
"Brother, give it to me. Let me see." He was practically vibrating with eagerness, reaching for David's wrist.
David's expression darkened slightly. A wave of melancholy hit him. "I... I can't give it to you."
George pulled back, confused, then laughed. "What? You are this selfish? Come on, just for five minutes!"
"It's not that I don't want to," David said quietly. He held out his arm. "Look closely."
George squinted. Where the watch met the wrist, there was no strap, no buckle. The metal didn't sit on the skin; it seemed to flow into it. The edges were blurred with the skin and fused with the dark material.
George recoiled, his face pale. "What is this? It's... melted? How will you remove it?"
"I can't remove it," David said. "Don't get excited. I'll explain, but you have to swear — never, ever tell anyone."
David trusted his brother's critical thinking. George was smart. So, David told him the story — or most of it. He spoke of finding the artifact, but he conveniently left out the grisly death scene and the cold interrogation by the special investigation police.
When he finished, George sat on the bed, processing.
"So," George said, his eyes gleaming again. "Are you saying you can create things using this watch?"
"Yes. But I haven't tried it yet."
George looked at David, then at his own hands. "This is the irony of life," he muttered. "What an engineer needs most is in the hands of an agriculturist."
David laughed. "We will try it tonight. But we need raw material. Don't forget to sneak extra food into the room later. And... I need electronic waste. As much as you can find."
"Yes, yes, e-waste," George mumbled, already pulling out his phone. He was dialing before he even left the room.
Don't tell me he is going to ask for e-waste from the college campus? David thought. Actually, that's a brilliant idea.
David spent the afternoon playing the role of the dutiful son. He helped his mom in the kitchen, washing a mountain of dishes. He went out and made the rounds—chatting with neighbors, catching up with school friends, and even greeting the local animals: the pet dogs, the street dogs, the stray cats.
'Wow', he thought, wiping sweat from his forehead as the sun began to set. 'It's been a long day. And tomorrow I have to visit the relatives.'
He retreated to the front porch to read the newspaper, using Niya to scan and summarize the articles for him. It was peaceful.
Until the roar began.
It started as a low hum and quickly grew into a mechanical swarm. Dozens of motorbikes and scooters turned the corner, their engines revving. They pulled up right in front of the gate — a small army of college students.
David stood up, alarmed. Oh my god. He really called everyone. He will be the death of me.
George came running out of the house, beaming. "Brother! Come meet my friends!"
David grabbed George by the shoulder before he could reach the door. "Stop right there," he whispered harshly. "Did you tell everyone about the watch?"
"What? No!" George looked offended. "I just called everyone to purchase their old electronic waste. I told them you have a very big, very secret drone project."
David stared at him, dumbfounded. He knew exactly whose fantasy this "drone" was. It was bullshit, but it was effective bullshit.
Taking a deep breath, David plastered a polite, political smile on his face and walked to the gate.
"Hello! Hi everyone, how are you?"
The meeting was a whirlwind of handshakes and rusted circuit boards. The pile of junk in the corner of the yard grew steadily.
"Hey, George," David whispered during a lull. "How much are they asking for all this? I don't have that much cash."
David's finances were precarious. He had just enough left from his travel and living expenses to survive the month. Thankfully, the month was ending, but he had zero margin for error.
"Don't worry," George whispered back, a smug grin on his face. "Most of them gave it for free. For those who want money... I told them I will give it after Republic Day."
"Republic Day?" David frowned. "That's weeks away."
"I didn't say which Republic Day," George snickered. "There are many Republic Days to come. We will pay them after... eventually."
David looked at his brother's shameless face. 'How can he be this smooth?'
David couldn't let that stand. He cleared his throat, addressing the crowd. "Everyone! For those who require payment, I will settle everything on the 31st of this month. Please collect the money from my dear brother then. Don't forget!"
The smug smile was wiped clean from George's face. Panic flickered in his eyes.
David turned away, hiding a satisfied smirk. 'That will teach him.'
As the crowd dispersed and the bikes roared away, David walked back into the house, feeling triumphant. He must be panicking about how to pay for his imaginary flying drone.
He reached into his back pocket to check his wallet.
It was empty.
David froze. He looked out the window. George was chatting with the last of his friends, patting his own pocket, which looked suspiciously bulky.
'Home sweet home', David thought, shaking his head. 'Home sweet home.'