(This scene takes place before Vikramaditya's time travel to the 25th century. It's a recollection from the past)

My eyes squint, focus slip, and the calmness around me begins to peel away into the pit of something darker. The soft glow behind my closed lids is swallowed by an inky blackness, thick and suffocating. Something's wrong. Something's coming. It's on the edge of my senses. 

Slowly, painfully, the world starts to sharpen. Distant shapes are clear in view, and so is the dread. Something ominous. Something haunting.

I see her—Samhita, running through the barren wasteland. Her feet are bruised and bloodied. She's desperate, helpless. Shadows are following her, not one, not ten, but countless. Faces unseen, but voices, those voices are cruel and unmistakably deadly. They want her blood. They want her gone. 

She's surrounded now, all alone. Her breath is ragged and heart pounding enough for me even to listen it from here.