Chapter 1
The Head of ASI: Archaeological Survey of India
“The heat is horrible,” he sighed as he turned the AC down to 18°C. His usually calm office now felt like a furnace.
He pressed the intercom. “Ramu, send me tea. Make it strong.”
Ramu hurried into the office immediately. He knew the boss was not in a good mood. Mr. Ashok Agrawal, Head of the Archaeological Survey of India, dealt with people and their complaints all day. Then an email notification caught his attention.
He wondered,Now what could this be? Another anonymous email?
A month ago, the Head of ASI had received an email that turned out to be fake. However, this one was different.
It mentioned an inscription and a ruined temple, its halls filled with dust. It looked ordinary, but the email hinted at something more—gold hidden inside the abandoned temple. Did all the deaths connected to the Karnataka temple really seem like a coincidence?
The temple was located in the Karnataka hills.
A tribal goddess had once been worshipped there.
He searched for it on Google. It belonged to a small village that had since been developed.
On the hills stood the Temple of Manasa Devi.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He answered the call just as Ramu entered with the tea.
Ramu placed the tea on the table and quietly left.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
“What do you want?”
Finally, a man’s voice whispered in broken English.
“Sir... is this the Head Office of ASI?”
“Yes. Who are you? Why did you call? Are you the one who emailed me?”
The voice replied,
“Sir, please listen to me. I do not have much time. My call might be traced. The Temple of Manasa Devi is an extraordinary temple. It comes under the jurisdiction of ASI. They want to dig a hole in the hill. They say it has jewels and treasure. People are trying to erase our history.”
“Help!”
Before Ashok could respond, the call disconnected.
Is this another prank? he wondered.
I might not believe it entirely, but I won’t take any risks.
He immediately began work. He requested discreet verification and asked local law enforcement to investigate quietly.
By evening, the information arrived.
The anonymous tip was accurate.
Now they needed an epigraphist—someone who understood ancient inscriptions and could determine what the looters were actually searching for.
He opened a fresh file, the caller’s words still echoing in his mind.
“You need to go to Karnataka.”
