2000 years back
EXT. LAKEVIEW BRIDGE – PRIVATE ESTATE – NIGHT
The wind is still. The world holds its breath.
In the distance, flames rise, painting the night in hues of orange and gold. Trees crackle. A vintage car is swallowed by fire near the edge of a quiet estate. Emergency sirens echo, distant and delayed — too far to stop what's already burning.
And on a stone bridge above a silver lake...
She walks.
Her name is Aahi.
Twenty years old. Calm. Beautiful. Elegant in silence.
A girl born into wealth, yet untouched by its arrogance.
Dressed in a simple off-white kurta and pale blue jeans, barefoot by choice, her steps make no sound — only her aura moves the air.
Her hair, long and open, flows in waves of brown touched with strands of red — almost like it remembers her name. Each strand glows under the flickering light as if her soul dances with the fire, not runs from it.
A delicate silver anklet tinkles with each step.
She doesn't carry a phone. No jewelry besides a simple chain around her neck, and a thin red thread tied to her wrist — a symbol, a story, or maybe a promise.
Behind her, people shout. Staff rush. The fire spreads.
But she?
She walks with stillness in her eyes.
She pauses at the center of the bridge.
Her gaze lifts — not at the flames, but at the sky.
As if asking the stars a question only she understands.
The fire reflects in her eyes,
but there's no fear in them.
Only calm.
Only elegance.
A breeze blows gently. Her hair flutters like silk.
Ash floats around her like falling petals.
She whispers into the night, voice barely audible—
"Not everything that burns needs to be saved."
Then she turns.
And keeps walking — away from the chaos.
Not because she's heartless, but because she's seen it all before.
She is Aahi.
Born of grace.
Built from silence.
And walking through flames like they bow at her feet.
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