Paritraan: "Greetings, dear reader. You must be wondering why a mighty hero like me is in the middle of… this."


    (The scene reveals Paritraan holding a ladle, stirring something suspiciously gooey in a dented pot over a makeshift fire.)


    "I''ll tell you why. A hero has to eat, and apparently, I''m the only chef available today. Though calling myself a chef might be an insult to actual chefs…"


    (Anahata''s voice chimes in, playful yet sarcastic.)


    Anahata: "Calling yourself a chef is an insult to cooking itself. What is that? Are you sure it''s edible, or should I classify it as hazardous waste?"Stolen novel; please report.


    (Paritraan glares at the glowing orb hovering near his shoulder.)


    Paritraan: "It''s food! You wouldn''t understand—you''ve never even tasted anything."


    Anahata: "Oh, the horror! Imagine if I could eat and had to consume this abomination. My circuits would fry themselves out of mercy."


    (Paritraan smirks and picks up a spoonful of his creation, waving it at Anahata.)


    Paritraan: "Why don''t you give it a try then? Open wide."


    Anahata: (mock horror) "Get that thing away from me! I''m a highly advanced machine, not your guinea pig!"


    (Paritraan chuckles, setting the spoon down. He leans back, staring into the pot as it bubbles ominously.)


    Paritraan: "Fine, suit yourself. Anyway, while I''m at it, let me tell you how I ended up here, cooking dinner with a snarky machine for company."


    (The scene shifts dramatically. The fire from the pot seems to glow brighter, the air thickening with tension as Paritraan''s voice grows softer.)


    Paritraan: "It all began in a place far removed from heroics or battles. A small junkyard, where dreams were as scarce as the food on the table…"


    (The screen dissolves into a memory of a young Paritraan working in the junkyard, smiling through the grime and sweat. The flashback begins.)