The smoke of war hung heavy in the air as you stood, bloodied but victorious. The battlefield between India and China had seen its share of horrors, but you had prevailed. However, victory came at a cost. Blood poured from your wounds, and despite the triumph, your strength faltered. Darkness took over, and the world around you faded.

When you opened your eyes again, it was not the harsh, modern world of war you had left behind. Instead, you found yourself in the heart of a bustling colonial India under British rule. The air felt different, thick with oppression and foreign dominance. The streets were filled with people dressed in old, tattered clothing. You could hear the sharp cries of vendors and the clatter of horses’ hooves on cobblestone roads.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. You turned to see a group of British soldiers dragging a woman through the streets. Her face, though filled with fear, had a fire in her eyes that you recognized. Without thinking, you rushed forward, your training taking over as instinct. The soldiers were too distracted by their cruelty to notice you approaching. In one swift motion, you drew your sword and decapitated the first soldier, then another. The remaining men hesitated, but they were no match for you.

You cut them down one by one, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As the last soldier fell, you stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, your heart pounding. Your eyes fell upon the woman they had been dragging.

She lay there, her clothes torn, her body bruised, but her spirit unbroken. She slowly rose, looking at you with gratitude and something else—recognition. As you helped her to her feet, she glanced at you with a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice calm despite the chaos around you. "Who are you?"

You looked at her face more closely and realized with a shock who she was—Sarala Devi Chaudhurani, the woman who would later become a beacon of hope and a leader for women in India. But this was before her marriage.