Chapter 4: Meera Arrives, Insults Fly, and a Hasty Escape

The system is hyped for a long time.

Bro’s voice is bouncing, happy as a kid who’s just found a five-rupee coin in his old jeans.

Our first plot, full marks!

He repeats it like a mantra, and I can’t help but smile, my heart fluttering like a kite caught in the monsoon wind.

This is the first time I’ve ever gotten a perfect score, you big Rohu.

I puff out my cheeks, a little proud. ‘Big Rohu’—maybe I should own it.

Just three more plots, get 100 points, and we can revive happily.

Revival—that word tastes sweet, almost as good as jalebi on a Sunday morning. Maybe, just maybe, I can go home.

The system is thrilled, and I’m happy too.

For a moment, I forget the pain. I grin, the river currents swirling around me like an old friend’s hug.

I tug at my pale lips in Arjun’s arms.

My lips are dry, but I manage a smile. Arjun looks down at me, eyes searching, as if he’s seeing me for the first time.

Okay.

It’s barely a whisper, but I mean it. For the first time in ages, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

Suddenly, the world shakes.

It’s as if someone’s dropped a boulder into the river. Everything trembles—even the oysters cling tighter to the rocks.

A giant Matsya swims over, smashing the water cell with its tail.

Her arrival is heralded by a swirl of silver bubbles and the crackle of water splitting—like the sizzle of mustard seeds in hot oil. A massive silver fish, bigger than any I’ve ever seen, crashes through the walls. The water churns, and for a moment, all I see is gleaming scales and flashing eyes.

This is the original novel’s female lead, Meera, here to bust Arjun out.

Her arrival is dramatic—straight out of a mythological serial. Even the tiny river crabs scuttle for cover.

Seeing Arjun, Meera transforms into a human.

The transformation is dazzling—scales fade, limbs lengthen, and in seconds, a tall, striking woman stands before us.

High ponytail, black tight suit, cool and androgynous.

She’s the picture of confidence, hands on hips, a small smirk playing on her lips. I feel a twinge of envy—she wears her power so easily.

Naga Lord, your subordinate is late.

Her voice is crisp, commanding—the kind you can’t ignore.

Meera glares at me viciously.

Her eyes narrow, lips curled in disdain. I shrink under her gaze, wishing I could just disappear into the current.

This chudail, harming the Naga Lord like this—now that she’s caught, you mustn’t be soft, my lord!

Her words sting, sharp as the green chilies Amma used to sneak into my lunchbox. ‘Chudail!’ The insult stings, but I try to remember it’s just her way. After all, even in my own colony, fights broke out over less.

She conjures a silver-white talwar, aiming to stab me.

The blade glints dangerously, light dancing off its edge. My heart pounds—this is no playground scuffle.

I instinctively want to run, but my tail’s injured—I move so slowly, it’s like I’m stuck in a haunted alley, swimming but never getting anywhere.

I flail, panic rising. Every move hurts, but survival is survival. ‘Come on, Priya, move!’

The system can’t help but remind me:

Stop squirming, the male lead’s already grabbed you by the back of the neck.

Before I can react, strong arms clamp around my neck, pulling me back. Arjun’s grip is firm, but gentle enough that I know he means to protect, not harm.

Arjun lifts me by the neck, then pulls me back into his arms with one hand.

He cradles me against his chest, his eyes never leaving Meera’s sword. For a moment, I feel safe, cocooned in the circle of his arms.

With the other, he sweeps his sleeve to block Meera’s sword.

The clash rings out, sharp and clear. Sparks fly, and Meera steps back, grudgingly impressed.

Take Priya back to Naga Valley first.

His command is cool, almost royal. There’s no room for argument.

Meera assumes I’ll be used as a hostage to threaten the merfolk king.

She gives a sly smile, nodding. ‘Classic villain move,’ her eyes seem to say.

She nods: Understood.

No one questions the Naga Lord. Not even Meera.

On the way—

We leave the shattered cell behind, the water swirling with broken memories. The world outside is brighter, more alive.

Arjun reveals his black naga form, puts me on his back, and shields me with his dorsal fin.

His body shifts—scales spreading, lengthening, black as the monsoon clouds. He lifts me gently, settling me onto his back, his fin arching protectively over my head.

He’s grown naga scales all over, but hasn’t sprouted horns yet.

He’s close, I can feel it—the power pulsing just beneath his skin. But for now, he’s caught between two worlds.

He needs to go to Naga Valley to absorb spiritual energy and break through to a full naga.

The journey is silent, broken only by the rush of water and the distant calls of river birds.

The system is suspicious.

Bro’s voice is wary, almost sulky. ‘Something’s off, Priya. This wasn’t in the script.’

In the original plot, the male lead tied you to his tail and dragged you back. How come now you’re riding on his back?

I blink, realizing the plot has gone rogue. ‘System ko kya jawab doon?’

I even bought you sensory-blocking churan—how did the plot change? Ugh, what a waste of points!

I feel bad—churan isn’t cheap. In this world, nothing is.

Hearing this, I feel bad for his wasted points too.

I gently tug Arjun’s dorsal fin.

It’s smooth, surprisingly warm. He glances back, eyebrow raised.

Arjun looks back.

There’s a question in his gaze, unspoken but clear.

What is it?

I swallow, feeling my cheeks burn.

I whisper timidly:

Can you... drag me?

His eyes widen, and a blush creeps up his cheeks. I realize too late how that must sound.

Arjun immediately turns his head away, his naga body faintly red, even stammering.

He mumbles, tail twitching. ‘Yeh ladki kya bolti hai?’

Princess, your feelings... I already know.

His words are soft, almost tender. My heart does a little somersault.

His voice gets smaller and smaller.

But some things, there’s no rush.

I frown, trying to decode his meaning. My mind whirs—does he like me? Is this a proposal? ‘Bas, abhi nahi, Priya.’

I don’t get what Arjun means, so I ask the system.

But the system isn’t listening at all.

This black naga looks so fierce, why is he turning pink after just a little swim? So filmy.

What, did the river water burn his claws?

Bro’s sarcasm is back in full swing. I have to bite back a giggle.

Arjun really seems burned by something, swimming at top speed.

He zooms ahead, water foaming in his wake. I grip his fin, holding on for dear life.

Afraid of falling off, I grip his dorsal fin tighter, hugging it to my chest.

It’s warm, grounding. I rest my cheek against it, closing my eyes for a moment.

Next thing I know, Arjun crashes straight into a coral reef.

There’s a loud thud, and I nearly go flying. Coral splinters, fish scatter. My head spins.

The system cackles wickedly.

Ha! The river water fried his brain.

I groan, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. ‘Arjun, seriously?’

I cling to his dorsal fin, feeling the steady thump of his heart—a rhythm as old as the river itself.