The golden light of the portal gave way to an overwhelming radiance as Manu and Lava stepped
into Satyaloka. The brightness was unlike anything they had encountered before—not blinding,
but pervasive, illuminating every inch of the vast expanse. The ground beneath their feet was
made of crystalline tiles that glowed softly, creating a sense of weightlessness with each step.
Above them, the sky was a brilliant gold, swirling with faint patterns that shifted like flowing
water. There was no horizon, no shadows—only endless light stretching infinitely in every
direction.
“This is… different,” Lava said, shielding his eyes as he looked around.
“Satyaloka,” Manu said quietly, his tone reverent. “The Realm of Truth. A place where nothing is
hidden, and every illusion is stripped away.”
Lava lowered his hand, frowning. “So, what does that mean for us? More trials? More things
messing with our heads?”
Manu stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the glowing path ahead. “The trials here will not test
our strength or endurance. They will reveal truths—about ourselves, about our journey, and
about the sacrifices we have made. Be prepared, Lava. The truth is not always easy to face.”
Lava hesitated, then fell into step beside Manu. “Great. Because what we’ve been through so far
has been such a breeze.”
As they walked, the glowing tiles beneath their feet began to shift, forming intricate patterns that
pulsed faintly with each step. The air around them grew warmer, filled with a subtle hum that
seemed to resonate within their very souls.
Ahead, the path split into two directions, each leading to a glowing archway. One arch
shimmered with a warm, golden light, while the other radiated a cooler, silvery glow.
Manu stopped, his eyes narrowing as he studied the two paths. “A choice,” he said. “One path
for each of us.”
Lava frowned, glancing between the two archways. “We have to split up? That doesn’t seem like
a great idea.”
“Satyaloka tests each seeker individually,” Manu said. “These paths will reveal truths we must
confront alone. Trust in yourself, Lava. You are ready for this.”
Lava hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Alright,” he said, stepping toward the silvery archway.
“But if this gets too weird, I’m blaming you.”
Manu allowed himself a faint smile. “We will meet again when the paths converge. Walk with
clarity, and the truth will guide you.”
Lava nodded and stepped through the silvery archway, disappearing into the light. Manu turned
toward the golden arch, his expression calm but resolute. He stepped through without
hesitation.
Manu’s Path
The light of the golden arch enveloped Manu, carrying him into a serene, glowing chamber. The
air was warm and still, filled with a profound silence that seemed to amplify his every thought.
At the center of the chamber stood a simple pedestal, upon which rested a glowing orb of pure
light. The orb pulsed faintly, its energy radiating a sense of calm and clarity.
“Manu,” a voice called, soft yet commanding.
Manu turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. Before him stood a
f
igure bathed in golden light, its features indistinct yet familiar.
“You walk the path of dharma,” the figure said. “But do you understand the weight of your
choices? Do you see the lives that have been affected by your decisions?”
The light around the chamber shifted, and images began to form in the air. Manu saw his
kingdom, his people struggling in his absence. Fields lay untended, walls crumbled, and the
faces of his subjects were etched with worry.
“You left them,” the figure continued, its voice filled with quiet intensity. “You pursued this
quest, knowing the cost. Do you truly believe your path is just?”
Manu’s jaw tightened, but he did not look away. “Dharma is not a single action or choice,” he
said. “It is a path that requires sacrifice. I walk this path not for myself, but for the balance of the
Lokas. My people endure because they understand this.”
The figure tilted its head, the light around it softening. “Endurance is not without limit. The
weight of your choices grows heavier with each step. Are you prepared to bear it to the end?”
Manu stepped forward, his voice steady. “I am prepared. The burden of dharma is mine to
carry.”
The orb on the pedestal pulsed brightly, its light filling the chamber. The figure nodded, its form
dissolving into the radiance.
Lava’s Path
The silvery archway led Lava into a different chamber, its air cooler and filled with a faint,
melodic hum. The room was circular, its walls etched with flowing patterns that seemed to shift
as he moved.
At the center of the chamber, a pool of still, reflective water shimmered beneath a soft beam of
silver light.
“Lava,” a voice said, low and resonant.
Lava spun around, his bow at the ready. “Who’s there?”
The water in the pool rippled, and from its surface emerged a figure that looked exactly like him.
The doppelgänger stepped onto the chamber floor, its movements fluid and confident.
“You’ve always doubted yourself,” the figure said, its voice calm but pointed. “Always wondered
if you’re good enough, if you’ll ever escape your father’s shadow.”
Lava scowled, lowering his bow slightly. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one before. Got anything new to
say?”
The figure smirked. “You hide behind your jokes, your bravado. But we both know the truth—
you’re scared. Scared of failing, scared of letting Manu down, scared of being forgotten.”
Lava’s hands clenched into fists, his breathing uneven. “I’m not scared,” he said, though his
voice wavered.
The figure tilted its head, its smirk fading. “Then prove it. Look into the water and tell me what
you see.”
Lava hesitated, then stepped toward the pool. The reflective surface shimmered as he gazed
into it, revealing images of his journey—his victories, his mistakes, and the moments he
doubted himself.
As he watched, the images began to shift, showing a vision of him standing alone, his bow
lowered, with no one beside him.
Lava exhaled slowly, his voice quiet. “I’ve always been afraid of being alone. Of failing the
people who believe in me.”
The figure nodded, its expression softening. “Then let that fear drive you—not to doubt, but to
strength. You are never truly alone.”
The pool shimmered, and the figure dissolved into light. Lava turned, his expression resolute.
“Alright, Satyaloka. Message received.”
The golden and silvery paths converged, leading Manu and Lava back to each other. The glowing
chamber pulsed gently, its light warm and welcoming.
“You made it,” Lava said, a grin breaking across his face.
“As did you,” Manu replied, a faint smile touching his lips.
At the center of the chamber, a glowing relic appeared, floating gently in the air. Its light
shimmered with both gold and silver, a perfect balance of strength and clarity.
“The Relic of Truth,” Manu said quietly.
Together, they stepped forward, their hands reaching for the relic.
The Relic of Truth floated before them, its radiance casting soft, overlapping hues of gold and
silver across the chamber. Its glow was steady and unwavering, yet as Manu and Lava
approached, the air seemed to ripple with unseen energy.
Lava stopped a few paces from the relic, his brow furrowing. “So… is it going to explode if we
touch it, or what?”
Manu shook his head, his gaze fixed on the relic. “Satyaloka does not guard its relic with force.
Its test is one of understanding. We must prove that we are ready to carry the truth it
represents.”
As if in response, the relic pulsed with light, and a deep, resonant voice filled the chamber.
“Seekers of Truth, you stand at the threshold. To claim the relic, you must answer a single
question.”
Manu stepped forward, his expression calm but focused. “We are ready.”
The voice continued, its tone both commanding and patient. “What is truth? Is it an
unchanging force, or does it shift with perspective? Speak, and be judged.”
Lava blinked, glancing at Manu. “Oh, great. Another philosophical question. Your turn, wise
king.”
Manu remained silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered the question. Then,
his voice rang out, steady and resolute.
“Truth is both,” he said. “It is unchanging in its essence, but the way we perceive it is shaped by
our understanding and experience. What is true for one may not be clear to another, but that
does not diminish its existence.”
The relic pulsed faintly, as though acknowledging his words.
The voice returned, addressing Lava this time. “Do you accept this answer, Lava? Or do you
see truth differently?”
Lava hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, that sounds right. But if you ask me,
truth is kind of… messy. People twist it, hide it, run from it. Even when it’s staring them in the
face, they don’t always want to see it.”
He paused, his voice growing more thoughtful. “But I guess that doesn’t mean it’s not there. You
just have to be brave enough to face it.”
The relic pulsed brighter, and the voice filled the chamber once more. “You understand. Truth
is unyielding, yet its clarity requires courage. You have proven yourselves worthy.”
The glowing relic began to descend, its light growing softer as it hovered just above their hands.
Manu and Lava exchanged a glance, their expressions resolute.
“Together,” Manu said.
Lava grinned. “Together.”
They reached out simultaneously, their hands brushing against the relic’s surface. The moment
they touched it, a wave of energy surged through the chamber. The light of the relic expanded,
wrapping around them in a warm, radiant glow.
For a brief moment, Manu felt a profound stillness, as though the entire universe had paused.
The weight of his choices, his doubts, and his sacrifices seemed to melt away, leaving only
clarity and purpose.
Lava felt the warmth settle over him like a protective cloak. The voice of doubt in the back of his
mind grew quiet, replaced by a sense of confidence he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
The relic dissolved into streams of golden and silver light, its energy flowing into Manu’s sword
and Lava’s pendant. The intricate patterns etched onto their weapons shimmered, reflecting the
unity of strength and wisdom they had gained.
As the light faded, the chamber grew still. The golden and silver glow around them softened, and
a new portal appeared at the far end of the room, its light bright and inviting.
Lava exhaled, his grin widening. “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I mean, I guess we’re getting the hang
of these truth-and-wisdom tests.”
Manu sheathed his sword, his expression calm but resolute. “Each trial brings us closer to
balance. The path grows clearer, but the challenges ahead will be no less demanding.”
Lava adjusted his bow, his eyes fixed on the glowing portal. “Good. I’d hate for this to get
boring.”
Manu allowed himself a faint smile as they stepped toward the portal. The light of Satyaloka
shimmered behind them, the realm now at peace as its relic found its rightful guardians.
The portal’s light enveloped Manu and Lava, carrying them away from the radiant serenity of
Satyaloka. The warmth of the realm’s glow faded, replaced by a cooler, heavier air that felt
dense with anticipation.
When they emerged, they found themselves in a liminal space, suspended between the upper
and lower realms. The ground beneath them was a narrow, glowing bridge of translucent stone,
stretching across an endless void. Above, faint traces of golden and silver light lingered,
remnants of Satyaloka’s purity. Below, the darkness churned like a living thing, its depths
f
lickering with faint glimmers of crimson and shadow.
Lava stopped at the edge of the bridge, peering into the void. “Well, this isn’t ominous at all,” he
muttered. “Looks like we’re heading straight into a nightmare.”
Manu stepped beside him, his gaze calm but focused. “The descent into the lower realms is not
meant to be easy. Each step will challenge us in ways the upper realms could not.”
Lava frowned, adjusting the pendant of the Boon of Vayu around his neck. “Yeah, I figured. The
upper realms were all about mind games and big, glowing truths. I’m guessing the lower ones
are more… ‘punch first, think later.’”
Manu allowed himself a faint smile. “Perhaps. But the trials will still demand clarity and resolve.
The corruption of the lower realms feeds on fear and anger. We must remain vigilant.”
The two began to cross the bridge, their footsteps echoing faintly against the translucent stone.
The void below seemed to shift and writhe, the faint glimmers of light within it forming fleeting
shapes—twisting shadows, clawed hands, and indistinct faces that vanished as quickly as they
appeared.
Lava kept his eyes on the bridge, his fingers drumming lightly on the bow slung across his back.
“Manu,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual, “do you ever think about… what
we’ll find when we reach the end of this?”
Manu glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. “You mean Mahikesh?”
“Yeah,” Lava said, his gaze fixed ahead. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot already. The trials, the
relics, all of it… But what if it’s not enough? What if we get to him, and he’s stronger than we
expected?”
Manu walked in silence for a moment before answering. “Fear of the unknown is natural,” he
said. “But it is not the strength of Mahikesh that should concern us—it is our own unity. As long
as we stand together, we can overcome whatever lies ahead.”
Lava nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Right. Together. Got it.”
As they neared the center of the bridge, the air around them grew heavier, and the faint hum of
the void intensified. The darkness below seemed to rise, tendrils of shadow creeping upward
and brushing against the edges of the bridge.
Lava froze, his hand moving to his bow. “Uh, Manu? You seeing this?”
Manu raised his sword, the flames of Agni’s Charm flaring to life and pushing back the
encroaching shadows. “The threshold tests our resolve. Do not let it distract you. Keep moving.”
Lava nodded, stepping closer to Manu as they continued forward. The shadows hissed and
writhed, but the light of Manu’s sword kept them at bay, carving a path through the encroaching
darkness.
Finally, they reached the far end of the bridge, where a new portal shimmered into existence.
Unlike the warm, golden light of Satyaloka’s portals, this one pulsed with a deep crimson hue,
its surface rippling like liquid fire.
Lava stared at the portal, his grin faltering. “That’s… not exactly inviting.”
Manu stepped forward, his voice steady. “The path to the lower realms begins here. Each realm
will be darker, more dangerous. But the relics of the upper realms have strengthened us. We are
prepared.”
Lava adjusted his grip on his bow, exhaling slowly. “Alright. Let’s do this. Bring on the nightmare
Lokas.”
The two warriors stepped into the crimson portal, its fiery glow consuming them as they began
their descent into Atala, the first of the lower realms.
The crimson glow of the portal faded, replaced by an oppressive, suffocating darkness. Manu
and Lava stepped forward cautiously, the air thick and heavy around them. Atala stretched
before them like a maze, its walls formed from jagged black stone streaked with veins of glowing
red. The paths twisted and turned unpredictably, vanishing into the shadows.
Lava wrinkled his nose, glancing around. “This place feels… wrong. Like it’s alive or something.”
“It is,” Manu said, his voice low. “Atala feeds on confusion and temptation. Its beauty has been
twisted into corruption. Do not trust what you see—or hear.”
As they moved deeper into the realm, the eerie silence pressed against them. Every step
seemed to echo too loudly, bouncing off unseen walls and carrying far into the distance.
Lava tightened his grip on his bow, his eyes darting to the shifting shadows. “Alright, so what’s
the plan here? Stick together and avoid the creepy glowing rocks?”
“Stay alert,” Manu said, his sword drawn and its flames casting flickering light against the dark
stone. “Atala is as much a trial of the mind as it is of the body. It will try to divide us. Do not stray
from the path.”
They continued forward, the maze-like terrain growing more disorienting with each turn. The red
veins in the walls pulsed faintly, their light dimming and brightening like a heartbeat.
Suddenly, a soft, melodic sound echoed through the air—a voice, faint and lilting, carried on a
nonexistent breeze.
“Lava…” the voice whispered, almost playful.
Lava froze, his eyes narrowing. “Did you hear that?”
Manu stopped beside him, his expression sharp. “Do not listen to it. Atala’s sirens prey on your
thoughts. They will call to you, use your desires against you. Keep moving.”
The voice came again, stronger this time, its tone gentle but insistent. “Lava, why do you follow
him? You could lead—you could rise above.”
Lava shook his head, muttering under his breath. “It’s not real. It’s not real.”
But the voice continued, growing louder, sweeter. “You’re stronger than you think. You don’t
need him. Step away, just for a moment. See for yourself.”
Lava’s steps faltered, his gaze drifting toward a faint light in the distance. It shimmered like the
surface of water, beckoning him with its soft glow.
“Lava,” Manu said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with me.”
“I—I know,” Lava said, his voice shaky. “It’s just… it feels so real.”
Manu gripped his shoulder tighter, his tone steady. “That is Atala’s power. It will show you what
you want to see, but it is only an illusion. Trust in yourself—and in me.”
Lava nodded, exhaling slowly. “Right. Trust. I’m good. Let’s keep moving.”
The two pressed on, the voice fading into the background but never fully disappearing. The maze
grew narrower, the walls closing in until they were forced to walk single file. The flickering light of
Manu’s sword barely reached the edges of the path, leaving the shadows deep and
impenetrable.
Just as the silence began to settle again, the melodic voice returned, but this time it was
different. It wasn’t calling to Lava—it was calling to Manu.
“Manu…” it sang, soft and haunting. “You carry so much. Wouldn’t it be easier to let go? To
rest?”
Manu’s steps slowed, his grip tightening on his sword.
“You have walked so far, sacrificed so much,” the voice continued. “You deserve peace. Just
stop. Stop, and it will all fade away.”
“Manu?” Lava said, glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Manu said, though his voice was strained.
The voice grew louder, wrapping around him like a suffocating embrace. “You have nothing to
prove. Why keep going? Rest, and let someone else carry the weight.”
Manu closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “This is my
path. My duty. I will not falter.”
The voice hissed, its melodic tone twisting into something harsher. “Fool. You cannot succeed.
The weight will crush you.”
Manu raised his sword, its flames flaring brighter. “I walk the path of dharma. Your words are
empty.”
The voice let out a final, guttural cry before fading into the shadows. The oppressive air around
them lightened slightly, and the walls of the maze widened once more.
Lava turned to Manu, his grin tinged with nervousness. “You weren’t kidding about the whole
‘don’t listen to it’ thing. Those voices are… something else.”
“They are illusions,” Manu said, his tone calm but firm. “But even illusions can wound if you let
them. Stay vigilant. Atala will try again.”
As they moved deeper into the realm, the red veins in the walls began to glow brighter, casting
an eerie light across their path. The faint sound of water trickling echoed ahead, hinting at
another trial waiting to reveal itself.
The narrow, twisting paths of Atala opened into a clearing, where the walls of jagged stone gave
way to a shallow pool of water that stretched into the distance. The surface of the pool
shimmered faintly, reflecting the blood-red light of the veins crisscrossing the cavern walls.
Lava stopped at the edge, his brow furrowing. “Water? Here? That doesn’t seem right.”
Manu scanned the area, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “It is not water. Atala’s illusions
rarely take familiar forms without purpose. This is a trap.”
Lava crouched by the edge of the pool, dipping his fingers into the cool, silvery surface. It
rippled at his touch, distorting his reflection into a series of overlapping images. His grin faltered
as he watched the ripples settle into a single, clear vision—one that made his heart stop.
The pool reflected his father, Lord Rama, standing tall in his royal armor. Behind him, a crowd of
warriors chanted Lava’s name, their voices rising in unison.
Lava staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. “It’s him,” he whispered. “My father.
He’s… he’s proud of me.”
“Lava, step back,” Manu said sharply.
But Lava couldn’t tear his eyes away from the image. The reflection shifted, showing Rama
stepping forward, his expression soft and full of pride.
“You’ve done well, my son,” Rama said, his voice echoing faintly. “You have proven yourself.”
Lava’s hands clenched at his sides. “I… I’ve been waiting to hear that my whole life,” he
murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
The reflection extended its hand, beckoning. “Come. Stand with me. You’ve earned your place.”
“Lava, listen to me!” Manu said, his tone cutting through the haze. “This is not real. Atala’s siren
is using your desires against you.”
Lava blinked, the trance breaking slightly. “But… what if it is real? What if he’s really here?”
Before Manu could respond, the water rippled again, and the vision of Rama disappeared. In its
place, another image formed—a golden throne bathed in light, with Manu seated upon it.
The reflection of Manu stared down at him, his face calm but commanding. “You have done
enough, Manu,” the reflection said. “You have carried the weight of dharma for long enough. Let
go. Rest. Others will take up the mantle.”
Manu’s grip on his sword tightened, his gaze narrowing. “You are not me,” he said, his voice firm.
The reflection smiled faintly. “I am everything you’ve ever wanted. Peace. Relief. An end to the
burden you carry. Why resist?”
The water rippled violently, and a figure began to rise from its surface. It was neither Lava’s
father nor Manu’s reflection but something far more unsettling—a tall, willowy figure with skin
as smooth as glass and eyes that shone like molten gold. The siren stood at the center of the
pool, its voice a haunting melody.
“You both long for something more,” it said, its tone lilting and hypnotic. “I can give it to you. I
can make it real.”
Manu raised his sword, the flames of Agni’s Charm flaring brightly. “You offer nothing but lies.”
The siren tilted its head, smiling. “Lies? Or possibilities? Why deny yourselves the happiness you
deserve? Stay with me, and you will never want for anything again.”
Lava stepped forward, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. “It’s just an illusion,” he muttered.
“It’s not real.”
The siren’s golden eyes turned to him, its smile widening. “You are so close, Lava. Everything
you’ve ever dreamed of is within reach. Take my hand, and your father’s pride will be yours
forever.”
Lava froze, his hands trembling.
“Lava!” Manu shouted, stepping between him and the siren. “Do not listen to it. The truth of who
you are is not found in anyone else’s approval—not even your father’s.”
The siren’s eyes darkened, its melodic voice twisting into a sharp hiss. “And you, Manu. So
righteous, so determined to carry the world on your shoulders. But your strength will fail. You
will fall. Let me ease your burden.”
Manu’s jaw tightened, his sword blazing brighter. “I do not walk this path for myself. I will not
yield to your lies.”
The siren let out an ear-piercing shriek, its form flickering as the illusions around them
shattered. The images of Rama and the golden throne dissolved into the water, replaced by the
siren’s true form—an amorphous shadow that writhed and twisted with anger.
The pool began to churn violently, sending waves of water cascading across the chamber. The
siren lashed out, its shadowy limbs striking toward Manu and Lava.
Manu raised the Aegis of Varuna, the translucent shield absorbing the blow and pushing the
siren back. “Now, Lava!” he shouted. “Strike its core!”
Lava nocked an arrow, his movements steady despite the chaos around him. The siren lunged
again, but Manu deflected its attack with a precise swing of his sword.
“I see you,” Lava said, his voice steady. “You’re not my father. You’re not my doubts. You’re just
another monster trying to stop us.”
He loosed the arrow, its fiery tip piercing the siren’s glowing core. The creature let out a guttural
scream as the light within it flared, then dimmed. Its form collapsed into the water, which grew
still once more.
The oppressive air in the chamber lifted, and the glowing veins in the walls began to fade. The
pool shimmered faintly, its surface now calm and quiet.
Manu lowered his sword, his breathing steady but heavy. “Atala’s siren has fallen. The path is
clear.”
Lava exhaled, adjusting the grip on his bow. “Yeah. And no offense, but I hope we never run into
anything like that again.”
Manu allowed himself a faint smile. “There will be more trials, but you have proven your
strength, Lava. You see through the illusions now.”
A golden portal appeared at the far end of the chamber, its light piercing the shadows.
Lava nodded, his grin returning. “Alright. Let’s get out of here before Atala changes its mind.”
The two stepped toward the portal, the water rippling faintly behind them as they left Atala’s
illusions behind.
