Chapter 3: Shadows of Betrayal
The corridors of the Amaravarti were quieter at night—or whatever passed for night on a starship. The golden glow of the walls had dimmed, and the faint hum of the ship’s systems provided a soothing backdrop. Aarav walked slowly, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his flight suit, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls.
Sleep hadn’t come easily. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the explosions, heard the desperate voices on the comms, felt the crushing weight of his failure. Tara and Aryan’s words had helped, but the doubts still lingered, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.
He had no destination in mind as he wandered. He wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to roam freely on the Amaravarti, but no one had stopped him yet. Maybe they didn’t care.
As he rounded a corner, faint voices caught his attention. Aarav paused, his brow furrowing. The sound was coming from a small side corridor, where a heavy door stood partially open. A dim blue light spilled out into the hallway, accompanied by hushed but urgent tones.
He hesitated. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop—if Vaikuntha was as strict as Tara made it seem, getting caught would only make things worse. But something about the tension in those voices made him stop. Made him listen.
“I’m telling you, we’re wasting time,” one voice said, sharp and clipped. It was male, with a rough edge that suggested a high-ranking officer. “The Asura Dominion is gaining ground every day. If we don’t act decisively, we’ll lose the entire Vyoma Expanse.”
“And what do you propose?” another voice replied, this one female and cold. “A frontal assault? Throwing more lives into the meat grinder? We barely held Dhara Station, and the Rakshasa Armada is only growing stronger.”
“We have Vedara now,” the first voice said. “The most powerful weapon in the galaxy. If we deployed it properly, this war would be over in weeks.”
Aarav’s stomach twisted.
“You mean misuse it,” the woman snapped. “Vedara isn’t some blunt instrument we can wield however we please. It’s meant to restore balance, not to—”
“Spare me the philosophy,” the man interrupted. “Balance doesn’t win wars. Power does. Vedara has the potential to wipe out the Dominion’s core territories in a single strike. If we used its full capabilities—”
“We’d destabilize the entire galaxy,” the woman hissed. “Do you have any idea what you’re suggesting? If we unleash that kind of power indiscriminately, there won’t be anything left to save. We’d be no better than Ravana.”
The man’s voice lowered, but it was no less venomous. “Better to end this war quickly than drag it out and risk total collapse. The Federation’s survival comes first. Always.”
Aarav leaned closer, his pulse quickening. He could barely breathe as he listened to the exchange, the words sinking into his mind like stones into water.
“Enough,” a third voice said, calm and measured. This one was older, authoritative, and immediately silenced the others. “The council will decide Vedara’s deployment strategy. Until then, neither of you will act without authorization. Is that clear?”
A tense pause followed before both voices muttered reluctant acknowledgments.
The older voice continued. “In the meantime, focus on keeping the pilot under control. He’s inexperienced, volatile. If we push too hard, we risk losing him—and Vedara with him.”
Aarav’s chest tightened. He took a step back, his thoughts racing.
“Understood,” the male voice said. “But if he proves unreliable, we’ll have to consider alternatives.”
Alternatives.
Aarav didn’t wait to hear more. He turned and slipped back down the corridor as quietly as he could, his heart pounding in his chest.
By the time he reached his quarters, Aarav’s mind was a storm of anger, confusion, and doubt. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
“They’re planning something,” he muttered to himself. “Something big. Something… wrong.”
Maitreyi’s form materialized in the center of the room, her golden light casting soft shadows on the walls. Her expression was calm, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes.
“What have you heard?” she asked.
Aarav hesitated. Part of him wanted to blurt it all out—to tell her about the voices, the talk of misusing Vedara, the cold calculations that valued victory over lives. But another part of him hesitated, unsure of how much he could trust her.
“Just… more talk about the war,” he said finally, his voice guarded. “Nothing new.”
Maitreyi’s gaze lingered on him, as if she could see straight through the lie. “The burden of truth is heavy, Aarav Rishi,” she said softly. “But it is not one you must carry alone.”
He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “You keep saying that, but it sure feels like I’m alone in this.”
“You are not,” Maitreyi said. “Vedara chose you because you have the strength to see the path others cannot. Trust in that strength.”
Aarav let out a bitter laugh. “What strength? I hesitated. I failed. People died because of me. Now the Vaikuntha want to use me as some kind of living weapon, and I’m supposed to just… what? Go along with it?”
“You must decide for yourself what path you will take,” Maitreyi said. “Vedara does not serve those who seek power for its own sake. It serves those who seek balance.”
Aarav slumped onto the edge of his cot, his head in his hands. “Balance,” he muttered. “That’s what they keep saying. But how am I supposed to keep balance when everyone around me is pulling in opposite directions?”
Maitreyi stepped closer, her form shimmering faintly. “By remembering what lies at the heart of dharma: not power, nor control, but purpose. Find your purpose, Aarav Rishi. And the path will reveal itself.”
He looked up at her, his expression weary but determined. “Yeah? And what if my purpose doesn’t align with theirs?”
Maitreyi smiled faintly. “Then you will have to choose which path to follow.”
Aarav didn’t reply. He sat in silence, staring at the faint glow of Vedara outside the observation window. Somewhere deep inside, a seed of resolve began to take root.
The officers’ mess hall aboard the Amaravarti was brighter and livelier than most areas of the ship, its wide windows offering a panoramic view of the swirling Vyoma Expanse. For those stationed aboard the flagship, it was one of the few places to gather, relax, and share brief moments of camaraderie amidst the chaos of war.
Lavanya Surya sat near the edge of the hall, a cup of steaming tea in her hand, her posture poised but casual. She was dressed in the standard white and gold uniform of a Vaikuntha officer, the faint shimmer of her rank insignia catching the light. Her dark hair was tied neatly into a braid, and her sharp eyes scanned the room with the ease of someone who had spent years blending in, watching, calculating.
Tonight, she wasn’t just another officer. She was a spy.
The Asura Dominion’s best, carefully planted within Vaikuntha’s upper ranks years ago. Her mission was simple: sabotage from within. Undermine morale, disrupt plans, and gather intelligence for Ravana’s forces. And so far, she had done it all flawlessly.
Across the room, Aarav entered, his slouched posture and darting eyes setting him apart from the disciplined soldiers and officers around him. He hesitated at the threshold, clearly uncomfortable, before making his way to the far corner to grab a plate of food.
Lavanya tilted her head, watching him with mild curiosity. Aarav Rishi, the newest wildcard in Vaikuntha’s deck—and the most dangerous one. She had seen the reports: an inexperienced scavenger piloting one of the most powerful astramechs ever built. It was absurd. Laughable. But also troubling.
“Interesting,” she murmured to herself, taking a sip of tea.
The man was an enigma, and enigmas were dangerous in a war like this. If he was anything like the other soldiers, it wouldn’t take much to push him off-balance. And once he was off-balance, the real work could begin.
Aarav sat at a small, empty table near the back of the mess hall, poking at a plate of bland rations with his fork. He felt out of place here, surrounded by polished uniforms and sharp eyes. Every glance in his direction felt like a judgment, every whispered conversation like a criticism of his failures.
“Mind if I join you?”
Aarav looked up, startled. Lavanya stood there, her expression warm and inviting, her tea cup balanced delicately in her hand.
“Uh, sure,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.
She sat gracefully, setting her tea down and folding her hands in front of her. “You’re Aarav, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but curious.
“That obvious?” Aarav muttered, taking a sip of water.
Lavanya chuckled softly. “Well, let’s just say people talk. The pilot of Vedara tends to attract attention.”
Aarav winced. “Great. Just what I need.”
“Relax,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Not all of it is bad. Some people are impressed. Others are… let’s say, intimidated.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Aarav muttered, glancing around the room.
Lavanya tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t seem like the type to enjoy the spotlight.”
“I’m not,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I just… got pulled into it.”
“And now you’re carrying the weight of the war on your shoulders,” Lavanya said, her voice tinged with sympathy. “That’s a heavy burden for someone so young.”
Aarav blinked, surprised by her insight. “Yeah. It is.”
She smiled faintly, her expression almost motherly. “You don’t have to carry it alone, you know. There are people here who can help. People who understand what you’re going through.”
Aarav frowned, his guard going up. “Like who?”
“Like me,” Lavanya said, her tone gentle. “I’ve been in this war for a long time. I’ve seen what it does to people—especially those who didn’t choose to be part of it.”
Aarav hesitated, unsure of whether to trust her. There was something about her that seemed genuine, but he had learned to be wary of kindness, especially on a ship full of soldiers and strategists.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked finally.
Lavanya chuckled softly. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing people suffer. Or maybe I know what it’s like to feel out of place.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “This war changes people, Aarav. If you’re not careful, it’ll turn you into something you don’t recognize. Something you don’t want to be. But if you have the right people around you, you can hold onto yourself. You don’t have to lose who you are.”
Her words struck a chord, and Aarav looked down at his plate, his appetite forgotten.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
Lavanya smiled. “Anytime.” She stood, picking up her tea cup. “If you ever want to talk, you’ll know where to find me.”
She walked away, her movements graceful, her expression calm.
Later that night, Lavanya returned to her quarters, where the glowing screen of her hidden terminal awaited. She tapped a sequence into the console, and a secure channel opened, the Dominion’s sigil flickering briefly before the face of her contact appeared.
“Report,” the man said curtly.
Lavanya leaned back in her chair, her lips curving into a sly smile. “The pilot is exactly what we thought—young, inexperienced, and easy to manipulate. It won’t take much to push him in the right direction.”
“Good,” the man said. “Continue your efforts. The longer Vaikuntha’s forces are distracted by internal conflict, the easier it will be to strike. Ravana’s orders are clear.”
Lavanya nodded. “Understood. The seeds are already planted. Now we just have to let them grow.”
The channel closed, and Lavanya sat in silence for a moment, her expression unreadable.
“Poor boy,” she murmured to herself. “You don’t even see the strings being pulled.”
Her gaze drifted to the stars outside her window, a faint glimmer of something almost like regret flickering in her eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by cold determination.
The Naraka Sector was a graveyard of stars. Its lightless expanse stretched across the galactic map like a scar, dotted with the faint outlines of shattered moons and derelict ships, long abandoned to the void. It was a place few dared to venture—a perfect hunting ground for the Rakshasa Armada.
The Vaikuntha fleet moved cautiously through the darkness, their formation tight. From the bridge of the Amaravarti, Tara Ishani watched the sensor displays with sharp eyes. Every officer on the deck was tense, their hands poised over controls, their gazes locked on the tactical maps.
“This feels wrong,” Tara muttered, mostly to herself.
Beside her, Commander Yuvaan—stiff and immaculately dressed as always—folded his arms. “It’s a necessary risk,” he said. “The Dominion’s supply lines run through this sector. If we can cripple them here, it’ll buy us time to fortify our positions in Vyoma.”
Tara didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Everyone knew what Naraka Sector was—a trap waiting to spring.
In the hangar below, Aarav sat in Vedara’s cockpit, the golden light of the Prana Sphere casting faint patterns across his face. The mech was powered down for now, its systems idling as the fleet moved into position. He stared at the interface, his hands hovering over the controls, his mind racing.
“You seem troubled,” Maitreyi said, her form shimmering faintly beside him.
“You don’t say,” Aarav muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. “We’re walking straight into the middle of nowhere, surrounded by enough wreckage to fill a scrapyard. And let me guess—it’s my job to save the day when everything goes wrong.”
“You are not alone in this,” Maitreyi said, her tone calm. “Trust in Vedara. Trust in yourself.”
Aarav sighed, leaning back in the pilot’s seat. “Trust doesn’t exactly come easy these days.”
The first signs of trouble came just as the fleet reached the edge of a shattered moon. The Amaravarti’s long-range sensors lit up with warning pings, dozens of them flashing red across the tactical map.
“Contact!” one of the officers shouted. “Multiple enemy signatures inbound!”
Tara leaned forward, her jaw tightening. “Show me.”
The display shifted, revealing a swarm of Asura Dominion ships closing in from all sides. Naraka Fighters streaked toward the fleet in tight formations, their thrusters leaving trails of crimson light in the darkness. Behind them loomed the hulking silhouettes of Rakshasa Dreadnoughts, their angular hulls bristling with weapons.
At the head of the enemy fleet was a ship unlike the others—a massive, black-and-red battleship adorned with jagged spires that seemed to pierce the void itself. It was the Vajragarjana, the flagship of Viraaj Rathore, Ravana’s ruthless second-in-command.
Tara’s heart sank. “It’s him.”
“Viraaj Rathore,” Yuvaan said grimly. “Of course.”
The comms crackled to life, and a voice filled the bridge—low, smooth, and dripping with menace.
“Vaikuntha Federation,” Viraaj said, his tone almost mocking. “How kind of you to bring your fleet to Naraka Sector. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down.”
Tara stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. “Viraaj Rathore. You’re far from your master’s throne. Or has Ravana grown tired of you failing him?”
Viraaj laughed softly. “I see your tongue is as sharp as ever, Tara Ishani. But words won’t save you here. This sector will be your grave.”
The transmission cut off, and Tara wasted no time.
“All units, battle formation! Protect the Amaravarti at all costs!”
Vedara launched into the fray moments later, its golden frame gleaming against the darkness of the battlefield. Aarav gripped the controls tightly, his breath coming in short bursts as the mech streaked toward the enemy lines.
“Naraka Fighters incoming,” Maitreyi warned. “Engage carefully. Do not overextend.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Aarav muttered, though his hands were already trembling.
The Naraka Fighters swarmed around him, their plasma cannons blazing. Aarav pushed Vedara into a tight roll, the golden energy shield flaring as it absorbed the incoming fire. He retaliated with a burst of precision strikes, Vedara’s energy blade slicing through the fighters like paper.
For a brief moment, he felt in control—confident, even. But the moment passed quickly.
A Rakshasa Dreadnought opened fire, its Hellfire Array unleashing a torrent of plasma rounds that lit up the void. Aarav barely managed to dodge, the force of the blast sending Vedara spinning.
“Focus, Aarav Rishi,” Maitreyi said sharply. “Your fear will only cloud your judgment.”
“I’m trying,” Aarav shouted, steadying Vedara’s flight.
The battlefield was chaos. Vaikuntha ships fired relentlessly, their weapons lighting up the darkness as they struggled to hold the line. The Amaravarti unleashed its full arsenal, its golden energy beams cutting through enemy formations, but the Rakshasa Armada was relentless.
Through it all, Viraaj’s voice echoed over the comms, taunting and cruel. “Is this the best you can do, Vaikuntha? Pathetic.”
Aarav gritted his teeth, pushing Vedara forward. He could see the Vajragarjana in the distance, its weapons tearing through Vaikuntha’s smaller ships. If he could just get close enough—
A warning alarm blared in the cockpit, and Aarav’s scanner lit up with a new signature. He turned, his heart sinking as a massive Rakshasa-class assault mech barreled toward him.
The mech was enormous, its jagged frame adorned with glowing crimson glyphs. Its movements were fast and deliberate, its weapons charging with deadly energy. Aarav froze for a moment, his hands hovering over the controls.
“Aarav,” Maitreyi said urgently. “Now is not the time to hesitate.”
The Rakshasa mech fired, a searing beam of energy streaking toward Vedara. Aarav reacted instinctively, raising the golden shield just in time. The impact sent him reeling, the cockpit shaking violently as warning signals flared.
“Okay,” Aarav muttered, his voice trembling. “No pressure.”
He pushed Vedara forward, the energy blade igniting as he charged. The Rakshasa mech met him head-on, their weapons clashing in a blinding flash of light. The two machines grappled, each trying to overpower the other, their strikes sending shockwaves across the battlefield.
“Use the Prana Sphere,” Maitreyi said. “Channel its energy to overwhelm your opponent.”
Aarav closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing on the pulsing rhythm of Vedara’s core. He felt the connection deep within him, the surge of power that flowed through the mech like a living current.
When he opened his eyes, the fear was gone.
Vedara’s energy blade flared brighter, cutting through the Rakshasa mech’s defenses in a single, decisive strike. The enemy machine spasmed and exploded, its shattered remains scattering into the void.
Aarav exhaled sharply, his hands steady on the controls.
But the battle was far from over.
The Vaikuntha fleet began to regroup, but the cost was heavy. Viraaj’s forces were relentless, their formations tightening around the Amaravarti like a noose. Aarav fought desperately to hold the line, but the strain was mounting.
“This isn’t sustainable,” Tara’s voice cut through the comms, her tone tense. “We need to fall back.”
“Agreed,” Yuvaan said reluctantly. “All units, retreat to rally point Epsilon.”
The Amaravarti’s engines roared to life, the flagship pulling back as the remaining Vaikuntha ships moved to cover its retreat. Aarav followed, Vedara cutting through enemy fighters as they attempted to pursue.
Through the chaos, Viraaj’s voice rang out once more.
“Run, Vaikuntha,” he said, laughing darkly. “But you cannot escape what’s coming.”
The Vaikuntha fleet was in shambles. The retreat to rally point Epsilon was underway, but the Amaravarti was struggling to keep pace, its shields flickering as wave after wave of Naraka Fighters hammered its hull. The Rakshasa Armada pressed its advantage, their dreadnoughts closing in, their cannons lighting up the void.
Aarav could feel the panic in the comms chatter, the clipped voices of Vaikuntha officers barely concealing their fear. He pushed Vedara forward, his hands gripping the controls tightly, his mind a storm of urgency and anger.
“We’re not going to make it,” he muttered, his eyes darting between the tactical display and the battlefield outside.
“You must focus,” Maitreyi said, her voice calm but firm. “There is still a way to turn the tide.”
“What way?” Aarav snapped, frustration bubbling over. “We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and running on fumes! How am I supposed to fix this?”
Maitreyi’s form shimmered faintly beside him, her golden eyes piercing. “You are not thinking clearly. Vedara’s power is far greater than you realize. But it requires your full commitment—your will, unclouded by doubt.”
“Full commitment?” Aarav said bitterly. “You’re asking me to fight a losing battle and act like it’ll work out? That’s not commitment—it’s suicide!”
Before Maitreyi could respond, the cockpit lit up with a new warning. Aarav’s scanner flashed red, highlighting a massive energy surge from one of the Rakshasa Dreadnoughts.
“They’re charging their Hellfire Array,” Maitreyi said, her tone sharp. “The Amaravarti will not survive a direct hit.”
Aarav’s stomach twisted. His gaze flicked to the Amaravarti, the flagship’s golden hull marred by plasma burns, its shields on the brink of collapse. The ship that had become his reluctant sanctuary, its crew fighting tooth and nail to protect the lives aboard.
Tara’s voice crackled through the comms, strained but steady. “All units, concentrate fire on the lead dreadnought. We have to—”
Her voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of the Hellfire Array. A colossal beam of crimson energy erupted from the dreadnought, streaking toward the Amaravarti. Aarav barely had time to think—he acted on instinct, pushing Vedara forward with everything he had.
The golden shield flared to life, intercepting the beam just meters from the Amaravarti’s hull. The impact was catastrophic. The cockpit shook violently as the shield absorbed the brunt of the blast, golden light rippling like liquid fire. Aarav gritted his teeth, his body straining against the overwhelming force.
“Aarav Rishi,” Maitreyi’s voice cut through the chaos, urgent and resolute. “You must release the Vishwaroopa Mode. It is the only way.”
“What are you talking about?” Aarav shouted, his hands gripping the controls.
“Vedara’s ultimate state,” Maitreyi said. “The Vishwaroopa Mode channels the full power of the Prana Sphere. But it requires absolute focus—and a willingness to bear the cost.”
Aarav hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. “What kind of cost?”
“There is no time to explain,” Maitreyi said. “The choice is yours. Act now, or the Amaravarti will be destroyed.”
Aarav closed his eyes, his breath shaking. Images flashed through his mind—the Amaravarti’s crew scrambling to defend their ship, Tara’s sharp voice barking orders, Aryan’s easy smile as he handed Aarav another piece of advice he hadn’t asked for.
He opened his eyes, his resolve hardening. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
“Focus on the Prana Sphere,” Maitreyi said. “Let it guide you.”
Aarav took a deep breath and reached out, his hands resting on the glowing interface. The Prana Sphere pulsed beneath his fingers, its rhythm syncing with his heartbeat. Slowly, he closed his eyes and let himself sink into the connection, his thoughts quieting, his fears dissolving.
The transformation was instant.
Vedara’s core erupted with blinding light, golden flames cascading across its frame like a divine inferno. The intricate mandalas engraved on its armor came alive, glowing with ancient energy. The mech’s limbs moved with impossible grace, each motion radiating raw power.
“This… this is Vishwaroopa Mode?” Aarav whispered, awe mixing with terror as he felt the overwhelming energy coursing through him.
“Yes,” Maitreyi said. “You are now one with Vedara. Its power is your own.”
Aarav turned his gaze to the battlefield, the Rakshasa Dreadnought still looming ahead. Without hesitation, he pushed Vedara forward, the mech moving faster than it ever had. The Hellfire Array fired again, but this time, Aarav didn’t flinch. He raised Vedara’s arms, and the golden flames coalesced into a massive shield, absorbing the blast effortlessly.
The Rakshasa Dreadnought’s crew barely had time to react before Vedara struck. Aarav’s hands moved instinctively, guiding the mech as it unleashed a flurry of devastating blows. The energy blade extended into a massive arc, slicing through the dreadnought’s hull like it was paper. Explosions rippled across the ship as its power core detonated, the blast sending shockwaves through the void.
The remaining Rakshasa mechs turned their weapons on Vedara, but Aarav was already moving. The golden flames enveloped the mech, deflecting their attacks as Aarav closed the distance. He struck with precision, each movement fueled by an unrelenting will. One by one, the enemy mechs fell, their frames crumbling under the onslaught.
The battlefield was silent.
The Rakshasa Armada began to retreat, their formations breaking apart as the surviving ships scrambled to escape. Aarav watched them go, his breath ragged, his body trembling from the strain of maintaining Vishwaroopa Mode.
“It is done,” Maitreyi said softly.
Aarav exhaled, his hands slipping from the controls. The golden flames surrounding Vedara flickered and dimmed, the Prana Sphere’s light returning to its steady rhythm.
But as the adrenaline faded, Aarav felt the cost of what he had done. His chest ached, his vision blurred, and his head pounded with a sharp, unrelenting pain.
“What… what’s happening to me?” he murmured, his voice weak.
“Vishwaroopa Mode draws heavily on your life force,” Maitreyi said. “It is a power of last resort. To wield it carelessly is to invite ruin.”
Aarav slumped in his seat, his breathing shallow. The Amaravarti loomed in the distance, its lights flickering but steady. He had saved them—for now. But at what cost?
As Vedara returned to the ship, Aarav couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside him had shifted.
Something he couldn’t undo.
The Amaravarti was quiet, its battered hull drifting through the void as engineers scrambled to repair the damage from the ambush. The lights in the corridors flickered intermittently, and the tension among the crew was palpable, despite the retreat of the Rakshasa Armada.
In the med bay, Aarav lay on a cot, his body limp and his breathing shallow. A faint hum filled the room, the rhythmic beeping of monitors tracking his vital signs. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, and his limbs felt leaden, as though Vedara’s immense power had drained the life out of him.
He opened his eyes slowly, the bright overhead lights stabbing into his vision. He winced, groaning softly.
“You’re awake,” a voice said.
Aarav turned his head to see Aryan Das, perched on a stool beside the cot, his arms crossed. The engineer looked as disheveled as ever, streaks of grease on his coat and a half-eaten protein bar clutched in one hand.
“Barely,” Aarav muttered, his voice hoarse. “What… what happened?”
Aryan raised an eyebrow. “You happened. Or, more specifically, Vedara did. That little light show you pulled out there saved the fleet, but it also almost fried you in the process.”
Aarav frowned, struggling to sit up. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“No one’s saying you did,” Aryan said, his tone unusually serious. “But pushing Vedara that far… it’s dangerous. Even for someone like you.”
Aarav’s gaze dropped to the floor, his hands clenching the blanket draped over him. “It didn’t feel like I was in control,” he admitted. “It was like… like Vedara was pulling me along. Like it wasn’t me out there.”
Aryan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s because Vedara isn’t just a machine. It’s alive, in a way. And it reacts to you—your emotions, your intent. You push it, it pushes back. That’s why you’ve got to be careful.”
Aarav let out a bitter laugh. “Careful? With something like that? How am I supposed to be careful when people are shooting at me and everything’s falling apart?”
Aryan didn’t answer immediately. He took a bite of his protein bar, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. “You’ve got to find your center,” he said finally. “Vedara’s power is overwhelming, sure. But it’s not random. It’s tied to you. The more you let your fear and anger control you, the harder it’ll be to stay in control of Vedara. That’s why Maitreyi’s always going on about balance.”
Aarav shook his head, his frustration boiling to the surface. “Balance doesn’t mean anything when you’re in the middle of a war. It’s just… a word.”
Aryan smirked faintly. “It means a lot when you’re piloting something like Vedara. You’re not like the rest of us, Aarav. You’ve got something… bigger. You don’t have to like it, but you’ve got to figure out how to use it—or it’ll use you.”
Before Aarav could respond, the door to the med bay slid open, and Tara Ishani entered, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room before settling on him.
“You look like hell,” she said bluntly.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Aarav muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot.
Tara folded her arms, her expression unreadable. “You did good out there,” she said after a moment. “You saved the Amaravarti. A lot of lives. But…”
“There’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?” Aarav said, his tone bitter.
Tara’s eyes narrowed. “But you can’t let it happen again. Whatever you did to activate that ‘Vishwaroopa Mode,’ it nearly killed you. You can’t keep throwing yourself into the fire like that and expect to come out unscathed.”
Aarav’s jaw tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “If I hadn’t done it, the Amaravarti would’ve been destroyed.”
“And I’m grateful,” Tara said, her voice softening slightly. “But you need to learn how to fight without burning yourself out. Vedara’s power isn’t infinite, and neither are you.”
She stepped closer, her gaze steady. “We’re in this together, Aarav. I need to know I can count on you—not just to fight, but to survive.”
Aarav looked away, his fists clenching. “Yeah. Sure.”
Tara studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.” She turned and left the room, her footsteps fading into the distance.
Hours later, Aarav sat in the observation deck, staring out at the stars. The room was empty, save for him and the endless expanse of space beyond the glass. Vedara’s faint silhouette was visible in the hangar below, its golden frame glowing softly in the dim light.
Maitreyi appeared beside him, her form as serene as ever.
“You are troubled,” she said.
Aarav didn’t look at her. “You don’t say.”
“The cost of using Vedara’s power is not just physical,” Maitreyi continued. “It is also spiritual. The Vishwaroopa Mode draws upon the deepest parts of you—your will, your intent, your very essence. That is why it is so dangerous.”
Aarav exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. “What if I can’t handle it?” he asked quietly. “What if Vedara chose wrong?”
“Vedara does not choose wrong,” Maitreyi said. “But it is true that its power is not meant to be wielded lightly. That is why you must learn to control it—not just for yourself, but for those who depend on you.”
Aarav let her words sink in, the weight of them settling heavily on his shoulders. “And if I fail?” he asked.
Maitreyi’s gaze was unwavering. “Then the balance of the galaxy will tip further into chaos. And countless lives will be lost.”
Her words hung in the air, and Aarav felt the enormity of his role pressing down on him. He didn’t know if he could live up to it, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of something else.
A resolve to try.
He turned his gaze back to the stars, the faint light reflecting in his eyes.