Chapter 2: The Cosmic Rebirth
The early morning sun cast long shadows over the Aryabhata Space Center, its sleek white buildings gleaming like monuments to Bharat Varsha’s unyielding progress. Inside the debriefing chamber, Arya Kashyap stared at his own reflection in the one-way mirror. His face was the same as it had always been—calm, sharp, and unassuming. But beneath his skin, something had shifted.
He flexed his right hand experimentally, watching in fascination as his fingers stretched far beyond what they should have been able to. The movement was smooth, almost fluid, his arm lengthening like molten steel before snapping back into place.
“Still playing with yourself, Arya?” Rudra’s deep voice broke the silence, his humor as dry as ever.
Arya turned to see Rudra leaning against the doorframe, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His rocky transformation was subtle at first glance—small patches of stone-like texture spread across his forearms and neck. But up close, it was impossible to miss the way his skin reflected the light, like polished granite.
Arya raised an eyebrow. “And you? How does it feel to be a walking monument?”
Rudra smirked, stepping fully into the room. “Heavy. Everything’s heavier. My body, my thoughts… even my jokes. Though I guess I should get used to being the team’s solid foundation.”
Arya groaned. “I see your sense of humor survived the storm intact.”
Before Rudra could reply, the door hissed open, and Devi walked in, carrying a tablet. “Good news,” she announced, though her tone lacked enthusiasm. “The public bought the official story. No one suspects anything unusual happened during the mission.”
“And the bad news?” Arya asked, already sensing the weight in her voice.
Devi set the tablet down, her expression grim. “The lab tests on us came back… inconclusive. The scans show elevated energy signatures in all of us, but there’s no precedent for anything like this. The medical team thinks we’re fine, but we know better.”
Rudra snorted. “Fine? I turned my bed to splinters just by lying down. If that’s their definition of fine, they need better doctors.”
Arya ignored him, his focus on Devi. “What about Arun and Meera?”
“Meera’s still in her quarters,” Devi replied, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “She’s been quiet since we landed. Says she’s fine, but… I’m not so sure.”
“And Arun?”
The question was answered by the sound of shouting down the hall. A moment later, Arun burst into the room, his eyes wide and panicked.
“I can’t control it!” he shouted, holding his hands up for them to see. His palms were glowing faintly, thin trails of smoke rising from his fingers. “I didn’t even do anything this time! It just—just started!”
“Calm down,” Arya ordered, stepping forward.
“How can I calm down?” Arun snapped, waving his hands wildly. “What if I burn this place down? Or worse, what if I burn me down?”
Devi stepped between them, her voice steady. “Arun, listen to me. You’re not going to burn anything down. You’re just… overheated. Take a breath. Focus on cooling yourself.”
Arun’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. The glow in his hands dimmed slightly, though wisps of smoke still lingered.
“See?” Devi said gently. “You’re learning. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.”
“Great,” Arun muttered, slumping into a chair. “I’m a walking bonfire with zero control. Can’t wait to see how that plays out.”
Rudra clapped him on the shoulder—carefully, to avoid crushing him. “Look on the bright side, kid. At least you’re not made of rock. You’ve still got your good looks. For now.”
Arun shot him a glare but said nothing.
Arya folded his arms, surveying the room. “This is our reality now,” he said finally. “Whatever that storm did to us, it’s changed us permanently. Complaining about it won’t fix anything.”
“Neither will ignoring it,” Devi countered. “We need to figure out exactly what’s happening to us. The medical team may not have answers, but that doesn’t mean we stop looking.”
Arya nodded. “Agreed. We’ll start with simulations to test the limits of our abilities. Controlled environments, no risks. We’ll document everything and work from there.”
“And what about Meera?” Rudra asked.
“She’ll come around,” Arya replied, though his tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty. “For now, let’s focus on what we can control.”
The others nodded reluctantly, each retreating into their own thoughts. Arya turned back to the mirror, flexing his hand again. This time, the movement felt more natural, almost instinctive.
He wasn’t sure what lay ahead, but one thing was clear: they were no longer just scientists, astronauts, or engineers.
They were something new.
The halls of the Aryabhata Space Center were quieter than usual, save for the faint hum of machinery. Meera sat in a dimly lit observation lounge, staring out at the sprawling grounds and the distant skyline of Bharat Varsha. The rhythmic pulse of her headache was growing harder to ignore, a subtle yet constant reminder of the storm’s lingering effect.
Her fingers drummed against the table as she tried to focus. Fragments of visions—fire, destruction, and the silhouette of a man wreathed in flame—flashed through her mind, each image more vivid than the last. It was like a song playing just out of reach, the notes sharp and dissonant.
“Meera.”
She startled at the sound of Arya’s voice. He stood in the doorway, his usual composed expression tinged with concern. “You’ve been in here for hours. I thought you were going to join the team.”
Meera shook her head. “Not yet. I needed time to think.”
Arya stepped inside, taking a seat across from her. “About the storm?”
“About everything,” she replied, her tone distant. “Arya, I’m… seeing things. Since we got back, it’s like pieces of the storm are still with me. I close my eyes, and I’m back on the moon, but it’s not just the moon anymore. It’s something else. Something bigger.”
Arya leaned forward, his brows furrowing. “What kind of things?”
Meera hesitated, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “A figure,” she said finally. “Tall. Powerful. Wreathed in fire. Wherever he goes, there’s destruction. Cities burning. People running. And there’s something else—something… pulling me toward it.”
Arya’s jaw tightened. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if it was real or if I was losing my mind!” Meera snapped, the frustration evident in her voice. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. “But now, I think it’s both. Whatever happened to us during that storm, it wasn’t just an accident. It was… deliberate.”
“Deliberate?” Arya repeated, his tone skeptical.
“Yes,” Meera insisted. “The energy readings, the way the storm moved—it wasn’t random. It was like it was alive. And now, it’s connected to me somehow.”
Arya leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. Meera was one of the most rational people he knew—calm, collected, and methodical. For her to be this shaken meant something far more profound was at play.
Before he could respond, their conversation was interrupted by a low rumble from outside. The building shook slightly, and the lights flickered for a moment before stabilizing.
“What was that?” Meera asked, standing abruptly.
Arya tapped the communicator in his ear. “Control, report. What just happened?”
The reply crackled through the line, tense and hurried. “Minor structural damage in the west wing, sir. We’re assessing now, but initial reports suggest it’s… Rudra.”
“Rudra?” Arya echoed, his eyes narrowing.
“He’s in the testing chamber with Arun,” the voice replied. “There was an… incident.”
Arya stood, gesturing for Meera to follow. “Let’s go.”
The testing chamber was a mess. The reinforced walls bore deep cracks, and the floor was littered with shattered equipment. In the center of the chaos stood Rudra, his massive frame looming over a crumpled metal beam that looked like it had been ripped apart with bare hands. His rocky skin glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights, the transformation more pronounced now, spreading across his arms and chest.
Nearby, Arun crouched against the wall, his gloves charred and his face streaked with soot. “I told you to move!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You didn’t have to tank the whole thing!”
“I didn’t think you’d launch a fireball the size of a cow at me!” Rudra shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“It was an accident!” Arun snapped, jumping to his feet. “I’m still figuring this out!”
“And I’m the one cleaning up after you,” Rudra growled, gesturing to the wreckage around them.
“That’s enough!” Arya’s voice cut through the argument as he and Meera entered the room. “What happened here?”
Arun pointed at Rudra. “He wouldn’t move during the test, and I—”
Rudra interrupted, crossing his arms. “I was trying to hold the equipment steady. He panicked and fired off a blast. Next thing I know, I’m ripping the beam apart so it doesn’t crush him.”
Arya pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. “You both need to understand something. These abilities we’ve been given—or cursed with—they’re not toys. If you can’t control them, people will get hurt. Maybe worse.”
Arun clenched his fists, his voice quieter now. “I’m trying. But it’s not like anyone gave us a manual for this.”
Meera stepped forward, her tone softer. “Arun’s right. None of us know what we’re dealing with. That’s why we need to stop thinking like individuals and start working as a team.”
Arya glanced at her, nodding slowly. “She’s right. This isn’t just about surviving anymore. We need to figure out what’s happening to us—and why.”
He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze steady. “The storm changed us. But if Meera’s right, it wasn’t random. Whatever caused it… it’s far from over.”
The room fell silent, the weight of Arya’s words sinking in. Above them, unseen and unheard, faint whispers stirred in the ether—whispers that seemed to echo Meera’s visions of fire and ruin.
The flickering light of a thousand candles cast eerie shadows across the cavernous chamber. In the depths of Bharat Varsha’s northern mountains, hidden from the eyes of the world, a lone figure stood before an ancient fragment of stone, its surface pulsing faintly with golden light.
Dr. Vedananda, once a respected scientist in the Aryabhata Space Program, now bore little resemblance to the man he had been. His robes, singed and tattered, clung to his tall, gaunt frame. The left side of his face was disfigured, charred as if by celestial fire, his molten scars twisting into something grotesquely divine. A gleaming golden mask covered the worst of the damage, leaving only one piercing eye visible.
“I have waited,” Vedananda murmured, his voice low and reverent, “for the power of the Shakti Astra to awaken once more.”
He placed his hands on the Chandrapradesh Fragment, feeling its vibrations course through his veins. The artifact—rumored to be a piece of the fabled celestial weapon—was no longer dormant. Since the storm on the moon, its energy had begun to surge, crackling with barely contained fury.
“They thought me mad,” Vedananda said, his voice rising. “They dismissed my theories, cast me out like a beggar. But I was right!” He turned toward the shadows, his lone eye blazing with fervor. “The storm was no accident. It was destiny—mine!”
From the darkness, a half-dozen Agnivarnas, humanoid constructs of molten rock and flame, emerged, their glowing bodies radiating heat. They knelt before him, their fiery forms flickering as if in silent acknowledgment of his power.
“You were forged in the heart of that storm,” Vedananda continued, addressing the constructs like beloved children. “You are my army, the first step in my divine plan. Together, we will bring Bharat Varsha to its knees—and from its ashes, I shall reshape it into a kingdom worthy of the cosmos.”
He raised his hand, and the Agnivarnas roared in unison, their molten cores pulsing in response to their creator’s command. Vedananda—now reborn as Agnivesh—had taken the first step toward his ultimate goal.
Across the country, the first signs of Agnivesh’s power began to manifest.
In the bustling heart of Varanasi, the sacred Ganga river bubbled unnaturally, its once-pristine waters darkened by the heat of unseen fires. Locals watched in horror as fiery figures emerged from the banks, marching through the city and igniting everything in their path. Temples, homes, and markets burned as people fled in terror.
In Mumbai, the towering skyline was cast into chaos as Agnivarnas swarmed the city, their molten forms scorching steel and shattering glass. Emergency services were overwhelmed, unable to contain the destruction spreading across the urban sprawl.
The devastation was not random. Agnivesh’s attacks targeted centers of culture, science, and faith—symbols of Bharat Varsha’s progress and resilience.
At the Aryabhata Space Center, the crew of Chandrayaan-V gathered in the mission control room, staring at live feeds of the unfolding chaos.
“This… can’t be real,” Arun whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“It’s real,” Arya replied grimly. He stood at the center of the room, his arms crossed as he watched the flames consume one of Varanasi’s ancient ghats. “And it’s coordinated.”
“Coordinated by who?” Rudra asked, leaning against the wall with his rocky arms folded. “Those things don’t look like they’re taking orders from anyone.”
“They are,” Meera said quietly. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, her expression distant. “This isn’t random destruction. It’s a message.”
Arya turned to her. “You’ve seen something?”
“Yes,” Meera said, nodding. “Not everything, but enough. The storm on the moon—it wasn’t just a cosmic event. It was the first step in something larger. Something connected to the figure I saw in my visions.”
Devi stepped forward, her tone urgent. “If Meera’s right, whoever’s behind this might have been affected by the storm, just like us.”
Arya’s mind raced. The energy patterns from the storm had been unprecedented, and they had all been exposed to its full force. If someone else had been affected—someone with a darker purpose…
Before Arya could speak, the central monitor blinked, cutting to a live broadcast. A figure appeared on the screen, standing in a blazing chamber surrounded by molten constructs.
“People of Bharat Varsha,” the figure began, his voice smooth yet brimming with malice. The golden mask obscured much of his face, but his burning gaze was unmistakable.
“I am Agnivesh,” he continued, spreading his arms wide. “I come not as a destroyer, but as a savior. Your cities, your temples, your symbols of power—they have become monuments to a flawed and stagnant order. An order that must be torn down so that something greater can rise in its place.”
The camera panned to show the destruction wrought by his Agnivarnas. Flames roared, and people screamed as entire neighborhoods crumbled to ash.
“I am the herald of a new age,” Agnivesh declared. “An age of cosmic unity, where power flows only to the worthy.” He paused, his gaze seeming to pierce through the screen. “To those who oppose me: know this. The storm that changed your fate is only the beginning. Stand against me, and you will burn.”
The broadcast cut out, leaving the room in stunned silence.
Arun was the first to speak. “Did he… just say ‘the storm that changed our fate’?”
“He knows,” Meera said, her voice low. “He knows about the storm. About us.”
Arya turned to the group, his jaw set. “We don’t have time to debate. If Agnivesh is behind these attacks, he won’t stop until everything we’ve built is ash. We need to stop him.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Rudra asked, gesturing to his rocky form. “Last I checked, we’re not exactly ready for battle.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Arya said firmly. “If we wait, more lives will be lost. We’ll start by containing the Agnivarnas. Then we’ll figure out how to deal with Agnivesh himself.”
Devi nodded, stepping forward. “Whatever this is, we face it together. No one’s sitting this out.”
Arun swallowed hard, but he managed a nod. Rudra cracked his knuckles, the sound like boulders grinding together.
Meera’s gaze lingered on the blank monitor, her expression unreadable. In her mind, the whispers grew louder.
The storm had only begun.
The whirling blades of a helicopter churned the air as it descended near a satellite station on the outskirts of Bharat Varsha’s southern plains. Smoke billowed from the station’s towers, blackening the horizon, and the faint glow of molten fire illuminated the chaos below.
Inside the helicopter, Arya and the rest of the Chandrayaan-V crew prepared for their first real mission together—not as astronauts, but as something more.
“We’re landing in five minutes,” the pilot announced, his voice tense. “Reports confirm multiple Agnivarna constructs near the central relay. No signs of civilian casualties yet, but they’re cutting through the facility fast.”
Arya stood near the open hatch, staring out at the devastation below. The satellite station had been a key hub for communication and research—one of Bharat Varsha’s crowning achievements in modern technology. Now, it lay under siege by creatures of fire and destruction.
“We contain the constructs and minimize damage,” Arya said, turning to the team. “Stick to the plan. Devi, focus on protecting the civilians. Arun, provide fire suppression if you can control it. Rudra and I will handle the constructs.”
“And me?” Meera asked quietly.
Arya hesitated. He hadn’t assigned her a specific task, unsure how her visions could be useful in a battle. “Stay close and—”
“No,” Meera interrupted, her voice firm. “I need to be out there. I… I can feel something. Like a thread pulling me toward them. It’s hard to explain, but I might be able to predict their movements.”
Arya studied her for a moment before nodding. “Fine. But stay back if things get dangerous.”
The helicopter landed with a jolt, and the team disembarked, their boots crunching against the scorched earth. The air was thick with heat and ash, and the faint roar of molten energy echoed through the facility.
“They’re in the relay station,” Devi said, pointing to the largest building at the center of the compound. Streams of fire licked the edges of the structure, casting long shadows that danced across the ground.
The team approached cautiously, their movements tense and deliberate. As they neared the building, a fiery figure burst through the wall, sending debris flying in every direction.
The Agnivarna stood tall and menacing, its molten body radiating heat waves. It turned its glowing eyes toward the group, emitting a guttural roar before charging straight at them.
“Here we go,” Rudra muttered, stepping forward to meet the construct head-on.
The impact was earth-shaking. Rudra’s rocky fist collided with the Agnivarna’s molten frame, sending sparks flying. The construct stumbled but didn’t fall, retaliating with a searing strike that sent Rudra skidding backward.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Rudra growled, charging back in with a bellow. His punches landed like hammer blows, each strike forcing the Agnivarna further back.
Meanwhile, Devi ran toward the entrance of the relay station, creating shimmering force fields to shield workers fleeing the building. She waved them toward the evacuation point, her shields absorbing blasts of heat from the Agnivarnas inside.
“Keep moving!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Arun stood nearby, his hands glowing faintly as he focused on controlling his fire. His palms burned hot, but he clenched his fists, forcing the flames into controlled bursts aimed at the edges of the fire spreading through the facility.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. He concentrated harder, and a jet of fire shot out, extinguishing one of the smaller blazes. “Yes!”
But his moment of triumph was short-lived. Another Agnivarna lunged at him from the shadows, its fiery claws slashing toward his chest.
Arun barely dodged, stumbling backward. “Uh, guys? Little help here!”
Arya was already moving, his elongated arm snapping out like a whip. The blow struck the Agnivarna square in the chest, sending it crashing into a nearby wall.
“Focus, Arun!” Arya called out. “You need to keep your head in the game!”
“I’m trying!” Arun shouted, scrambling to his feet.
Inside the relay station, Meera moved carefully, her footsteps echoing in the scorched halls. The pull she had felt earlier was stronger now, like an invisible thread guiding her deeper into the building.
She rounded a corner and froze.
At the center of the relay room stood another Agnivarna, larger and more menacing than the others. It was channeling energy into a device connected to the station’s mainframe, causing sparks and surges of electricity to cascade across the room.
Meera’s vision blurred as the whispers returned, louder now. Flashes of fire and destruction filled her mind, the image of the masked figure—Agnivesh—looming over it all.
“This is only the beginning,” the whispers seemed to say.
“Meera!” Devi’s voice snapped her out of the vision.
Devi rushed into the room, creating a force field to block the Agnivarna’s next attack. The construct roared in frustration, slamming its fiery fists against the shield.
“Get out of here!” Devi shouted. “This thing’s about to blow!”
“No,” Meera said, stepping forward despite the danger. She clutched her head, focusing on the whispers. The threads of energy pulsing through the Agnivarna seemed clearer now, like a map revealing itself.
“Meera, what are you doing?” Devi demanded.
Meera raised a hand, her voice steady. “I can stop it.”
She reached out, her fingers brushing the air just above the Agnivarna’s core. The construct froze, its molten form flickering as if caught in a sudden wind. Meera’s eyes glowed faintly as she focused, the threads of energy converging in her mind.
With a final, determined motion, she twisted her hand. The Agnivarna let out a guttural scream before collapsing into a pile of cooling ash.
Devi stared in shock. “How… how did you do that?”
Meera turned to her, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know. But it’s connected to the storm—and to him.”
Outside, Arya, Rudra, and Arun regrouped with Devi and Meera as the last of the Agnivarnas crumbled into ash. The facility was in ruins, but the fires had been extinguished, and the workers were safe.
“First strike,” Rudra said grimly, surveying the wreckage. “And they nearly took us out.”
“They won’t stop here,” Arya said. He turned to Meera, who still looked shaken. “What did you see?”
Meera hesitated before answering. “Agnivesh. He’s behind all of this. And he’s just getting started.”
The air in the makeshift debriefing room was heavy with tension. The crew of Chandrayaan-V, still reeling from their first battle, sat around a circular table, their faces lit by the faint glow of a central monitor displaying live footage of the satellite station’s smoldering ruins.
Arya leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together. His eyes were fixed on the screen, but his mind was elsewhere, piecing together the fragments of information they had uncovered.
“This was a targeted strike,” he began, breaking the silence. “Agnivesh isn’t just lashing out randomly. He’s systematically dismantling our infrastructure. That satellite station was a cornerstone of Bharat Varsha’s communications network. Its loss weakens our ability to respond to further attacks.”
“Then why didn’t we stop him?” Arun asked, frustration clear in his voice.
Arya’s jaw tightened. “Because we’re not ready. Not yet.”
“Not ready?” Rudra’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. “We stopped those fire monsters. Barely, but we did it.” He raised one rocky fist for emphasis. “So, what’s the plan, Arya? We wait for him to burn the rest of the country before we’re ‘ready’?”
Devi placed a calming hand on Rudra’s arm. “He’s right about one thing—we can’t afford to let this escalate. People are scared. They’re looking to us now, even if they don’t know it.”
Arya turned to Meera, whose face was pale but resolute. “You said you saw him. Agnivesh. What else can you tell us?”
Meera hesitated, her hands resting on the table. The whispers from her visions still lingered at the edges of her mind, faint but insistent. “He’s not working alone,” she said finally. “Those constructs, the Agnivarnas—they’re just the beginning. He’s building something. A weapon, maybe. Or something worse.”
“And you know this how?” Arun asked, leaning forward.
Meera’s gaze met his, steady despite the weight of her words. “Because I can feel it. When I stopped that Agnivarna in the relay room, I could sense its energy. It wasn’t just mindless destruction—it was part of something larger. Something deliberate.”
Arya frowned, considering her words. “If you’re right, then this isn’t just about protecting individual sites. We need to stop him at the source.”
“And where’s that?” Rudra asked.
Meera closed her eyes, focusing on the faint threads of energy still lingering in her mind. “He’s using the Chandrapradesh Fragment. It’s amplifying his power. I don’t know exactly where he’s operating from, but…” She opened her eyes, her voice firm. “He’s close to the mountains. Somewhere remote.”
Arya stood, pacing as he formulated a plan. “If we can locate him, we might be able to cut off his connection to the fragment. Without it, he’s just one man. Dangerous, but manageable.”
“That’s a big ‘if,’” Arun muttered, slumping in his chair. “And what do we do in the meantime? Play firefighter while he sets everything else ablaze?”
Arya stopped pacing, his gaze sharp. “We adapt. This isn’t just about him anymore—it’s about us. We need to figure out how to use these powers effectively, or we’ll fail. And failure isn’t an option.”
Devi nodded. “Training. Simulations. Whatever it takes. We have to get a handle on what we’re capable of before we face him again.”
Rudra’s rocky fist tightened. “Fine. But make it quick. I’m not sitting around while that lunatic tears the country apart.”
Arya nodded. “We’ll start immediately. Arun, focus on controlling your fire. Devi, work on strengthening your shields under pressure. Rudra…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You’ll help with containment drills. If we can control collateral damage, we can minimize casualties.”
“And me?” Meera asked, her tone quiet but firm.
Arya met her gaze. “You’re our eyes and ears. Your connection to whatever’s driving this might be the key to understanding Agnivesh’s next move.”
Meera’s lips tightened into a thin line, but she nodded.
“And you?” Rudra asked, his tone challenging. “What’s your role in all this, Arya? Besides barking orders.”
Arya didn’t flinch. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us alive.”
Hours later, as the others began their training routines, Arya sat alone in the mission control room, surrounded by glowing monitors. Maps of Bharat Varsha flickered on the screens, overlaid with data from the storm and its aftermath.
He stared at the central display, where a faint energy signature traced a path toward the northern mountains. The Chandrapradesh Fragment, Meera had called it. A fragment of power, tied to the cosmic storm that had changed their lives.
His thoughts were interrupted by Meera’s voice.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
Arya turned to see her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. “I can’t afford not to,” he replied.
“Neither can we,” Meera said, stepping into the room. “You keep carrying this on your own, and you’ll break. You need to trust us, Arya. All of us.”
Arya exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I do trust you. But this isn’t just about us—it’s about everyone. If Agnivesh succeeds, everything we’ve built, everything we’ve fought for, will burn.”
“Then we stop him,” Meera said simply. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding. “But not as individuals. As a team.”
Arya glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You sound like Devi.”
“She’s got a point,” Meera replied.
For the first time that day, Arya allowed himself a small moment of relief. “We’ll stop him,” he said, his voice steady. “Together.”
The team had made their decision. They weren’t just astronauts or scientists anymore. They were something new—something forged by fire and storm.
And for better or worse, the fate of Bharat Varsha now rested in their hands.