Chapter 3: Agnivesh Rises
The holy city of Prayag, where the Ganga, Yamuna, and mythical Saraswati rivers converged, was an eternal symbol of Bharat Varsha’s spiritual strength. Its ghats had witnessed countless generations of pilgrims, the waters carrying prayers to the heavens. But today, Prayag’s calm was shattered.
The sky above the city churned with an ominous glow, faint tendrils of flame creeping through the clouds. Screams echoed along the crowded streets as fiery constructs—the Agnivarnas—emerged from the water’s edge. Their molten forms hissed and cracked, sending waves of steam billowing into the air.
With each step, the constructs ignited everything in their path. Temples built centuries ago crumbled as their stone foundations melted into slag. The market square, usually alive with chatter and the scent of spices, was now a warzone of fleeing civilians and blazing fire.
On the city’s northern ghat, a priest stood defiantly, clutching a conch shell in trembling hands. “This is sacred ground!” he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. “You will not—”
The lead Agnivarna raised its molten arm, silencing him with a devastating blast of fire. The conch fell to the ground, its once-holy note replaced by the roar of destruction.
A few miles away, a small transport helicopter cut through the ash-laden sky, carrying Arya and his team toward the chaos. The crew of Chandrayaan-V had spent days training, testing the limits of their newfound powers. Now, they faced their first real challenge as a team.
“This is worse than we expected,” Arya said, his voice barely audible over the helicopter’s rotors. He pointed to the columns of smoke rising from Prayag. “Those constructs are targeting cultural and religious landmarks. This isn’t just an attack—it’s symbolic.”
Rudra tightened the straps on his suit, his stony fists clenched. “If Agnivesh thinks burning down temples is going to scare us, he’s about to get a reality check.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” Meera warned, her gaze distant as she focused on the faint whispers in her mind. “This isn’t just about destruction. There’s a pattern here—something bigger than we’re seeing.”
Devi nodded, adjusting the device on her wrist that helped amplify her shields. “We can figure out his motives later. Right now, we save as many lives as we can.”
Arya turned to Arun, who sat in the corner, fiddling nervously with his gloves. “You ready, Arun?”
Arun looked up, swallowing hard. “Define ‘ready.’”
Arya placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Just focus on controlling your fire. We’ll handle the rest.”
As the helicopter neared the city, the pilot shouted back, “We’re approaching the landing zone! You’ll have to jump—the streets are too narrow for a clean drop!”
Arya nodded, pulling the side hatch open. Below them, the burning city stretched out like a scar, its once vibrant ghats now awash in flame.
“This is it,” Arya said, his voice steady. “We stick to the plan. Minimize damage, protect civilians, and take down those constructs. Let’s move!”
One by one, the team leapt from the helicopter, their silhouettes cutting through the smoke-filled air.
The streets of Prayag were chaos incarnate. Civilians ran in every direction, their cries of fear blending with the crackle of flames. The team landed near the main square, scattering to their assigned tasks.
Devi moved first, her shields shimmering into existence as she created protective domes around groups of civilians. “This way!” she called, guiding them toward an evacuation route. Her shields absorbed the brunt of a fiery blast from an approaching Agnivarna, sparking but holding firm.
Arun, meanwhile, focused on suppressing the flames spreading across the nearby market stalls. He clenched his fists, summoning bursts of fire to counter the constructs’ heat. The delicate balance of controlling his power was agonizing, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to maintain focus.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered, dousing a blazing cart of spices. “Not everything has to burn today!”
Rudra charged headfirst into battle, meeting an Agnivarna’s molten form with his rocky fists. The impact sent shockwaves through the street, the ground cracking beneath them. “You’re not so tough,” he growled, slamming the construct into the remains of a crumbling building.
Nearby, Arya used his elastic limbs to pull civilians out of harm’s way, his arms snapping out like whips to snatch people from the path of falling debris. He spotted an Agnivarna charging toward the northern ghat and intercepted it, wrapping his elongated arm around its legs and toppling it into the river.
“Let’s see how you handle a little water,” he muttered.
The construct hissed and sputtered, steam rising as it struggled to regain its footing. Arya didn’t give it the chance, smashing it into the riverbank with a powerful kick.
At the heart of the chaos, Meera stood still, her eyes closed. The whispers in her mind were louder now, like a chorus of voices warning her of something just beyond her reach.
“Agnivesh,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
As if in response, the largest Agnivarna appeared, towering over the others. Its molten form seemed more refined, its movements more deliberate. It turned its glowing gaze toward Meera, tilting its head as if recognizing her.
The whispers in her mind crescendoed, and Meera’s breath caught in her throat. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not just a construct… it’s an extension of him.”
Before she could react, the construct raised its arm, hurling a wave of molten energy toward her.
“Meera, move!” Devi shouted, throwing up a shield just in time. The molten wave slammed against the barrier, cracking it but failing to break through.
Meera snapped out of her trance, her heart pounding. “Thank you,” she managed, stepping back.
“Stay with me,” Devi said, her voice firm. “This thing isn’t like the others.”
As the battle raged on, Arya regrouped with the others, his gaze locking onto the massive construct. “We bring it down together,” he ordered.
The team moved as one, their powers complementing each other in a chaotic but effective symphony. Arun’s fire countered the construct’s heat, creating openings for Rudra to land devastating blows. Arya’s elastic strikes disoriented it, while Devi’s shields protected the group from its fiery retaliation.
Finally, Meera stepped forward, her eyes glowing faintly as she reached out toward the construct. “Enough,” she said, her voice echoing with an otherworldly resonance.
The construct froze, its molten form flickering as Meera concentrated. The whispers in her mind coalesced into a single command, and with a final gesture, she unraveled the construct’s energy, reducing it to ash.
As the last Agnivarna fell, the fires began to subside, and the city’s cries of terror gave way to cautious silence. The team stood amidst the ruins, their bodies battered but their resolve unshaken.
“This was just the beginning,” Meera said, her voice heavy with certainty. “He’s testing us.”
Arya nodded, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Then we make sure we’re ready for whatever comes next.”
The sun was setting over Prayag, casting long shadows over the city’s smoldering ruins. The team had spent hours working alongside emergency crews to evacuate civilians and stabilize what little remained of the historic city center. Smoke lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the battle they had barely survived.
At the edge of a crumbling market square, Rudra paced restlessly, the sound of his heavy footsteps grinding against the scorched cobblestones. His rocky fists clenched and unclenched, frustration etched into his hardened features.
“We should’ve done more,” Rudra said, breaking the uneasy silence. “Look around us. Half the city’s gone, and we’re patting ourselves on the back for taking out a few fire monsters.”
“We saved lives,” Devi replied, her tone measured but firm. She stood nearby, leaning against the remains of a stone pillar. “That’s what matters.”
“Tell that to the people who lost everything,” Rudra shot back, gesturing toward the distant rubble of a temple. “To them, we’re just as useless as the Agnivarnas. We’re supposed to be stronger than this.”
“Stronger?” Arun snapped, stepping into the conversation. His face was streaked with soot, and exhaustion hung heavily on his shoulders. “We were outnumbered, outmatched, and completely unprepared. What more do you want?”
Rudra whirled on him, his towering frame casting a shadow over the younger man. “I want us to stop playing defense! You can’t win a fight if you’re too scared to throw a punch.”
“I’m not scared!” Arun retorted, his voice rising. “But maybe if you didn’t charge in like a wrecking ball every time, we wouldn’t have to clean up your mess!”
“Clean up my mess?” Rudra growled, his rocky skin cracking slightly as he stepped closer. “You nearly burned down a hospital when you lost control back there. If anything, I’m cleaning up after you.”
“Stop it!” Devi’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and commanding. She stepped between them, her force field shimmering faintly as if daring them to push further. “This isn’t helping anyone. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“Team,” Rudra scoffed, turning away. “Sure doesn’t feel like it.”
Arya watched the exchange from a distance, his expression unreadable. He stood at the edge of the square, staring out at the ruins of the northern ghat. The fires had been extinguished, but the damage was done.
Meera approached him quietly, her presence gentle but unwavering. “You’re not saying anything,” she noted, standing beside him.
“There’s nothing to say,” Arya replied, his voice low. “They’re both right. We weren’t ready for this. And if Agnivesh strikes again, more people will die because of it.”
Meera studied him for a moment. “It’s not just about readiness, is it?”
Arya exhaled, the tension in his shoulders barely easing. “No. It’s about leadership. I thought I could guide us through this, but… I underestimated the scale of what we’re facing. This isn’t just a battle. It’s a war.”
Meera’s gaze drifted back to the city, her thoughts clouded by the faint whispers that still lingered in her mind. “You’re right,” she said softly. “It’s a war. But it’s not one we can win alone.”
The argument between Arun and Rudra had finally died down, though the tension in the air remained thick. Devi stood nearby, her arms crossed as she glared at both of them.
“You two need to figure this out,” she said, her voice stern. “Because if you can’t trust each other out there, we’re all dead.”
Rudra grunted but said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground. Arun muttered something under his breath, avoiding eye contact.
“Enough,” Arya’s voice cut through the group as he and Meera returned. He stood tall, his tone leaving no room for debate. “We don’t have time for infighting. Agnivesh isn’t waiting for us to figure out how to work together. We need to be better. Stronger.”
“How?” Rudra asked, his frustration still evident. “We’re barely keeping up as it is.”
“By trusting each other,” Arya said firmly. He looked at Arun and Rudra in turn. “We’re all dealing with something we don’t fully understand. But the only way we survive this is if we move forward as a team.”
Devi stepped forward, her expression softening. “Arya’s right. We don’t have to be perfect, but we have to be united. If we’re not, Agnivesh wins without even lifting a finger.”
The group fell silent, each of them grappling with the weight of her words. Finally, Rudra let out a heavy sigh. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “But the next time we’re out there, I’m not holding back.”
“You never do,” Arun muttered, though there was a faint smirk on his face.
As the team began to prepare for their departure, Meera lingered near the edge of the square, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The whispers in her mind grew louder, sharper, and with them came flashes of fire, destruction, and the silhouette of Agnivesh standing amidst the ruins.
“He’s testing us,” she murmured to herself.
Arya approached her, his expression concerned. “What is it?”
Meera hesitated, her hands trembling slightly. “Agnivesh isn’t just attacking randomly. He’s watching us. Learning from us. Every time we fight his constructs, we’re giving him exactly what he wants.”
Arya’s brow furrowed. “And what does he want?”
Meera turned to him, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “To break us.”
Night fell over Prayag, casting the city into a restless silence. The fires had been extinguished, and most of the survivors had been evacuated. Yet amidst the ruins, an unshakable tension lingered in the air.
The Chandrayaan-V team stood on the northern ghat, their backs to the dark waters of the Ganga. The moonlight reflected off the surface, its silver glow clashing with the charred ruins of the once-vibrant city.
Arya’s voice cut through the quiet. “Devi, are the remaining civilians clear?”
Devi nodded, lowering her communicator. “The last group’s on their way to the shelter. It’s just us now.”
Arya glanced at Rudra, who was perched atop a broken pillar, scanning the horizon. “Anything?”
Rudra shook his head, his rocky fists clenched tightly. “Not yet. But they’re out there. I can feel it.”
Meera stood apart from the others, her gaze fixed on the distant skyline. The whispers in her mind had grown louder, their urgency building like the tide before a storm. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, but the images that came were fractured and incomplete: molten rivers, shattered cities, and a shadowed figure wreathed in flames.
“He’s here,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.
Arun, who had been pacing nervously, stopped in his tracks. “Wait, what? Here, here? As in right now?”
“Yes,” Meera replied, her eyes still closed. “He’s watching us.”
Arya tensed, his gaze sweeping the ruins. “Everyone, stay sharp. If Meera’s right, this isn’t over.”
A low rumble echoed through the city, followed by the faint glow of fire on the horizon. The team turned toward the source, their muscles coiled with tension.
From the shadows, a figure emerged, tall and commanding. His golden mask gleamed in the moonlight, half-obscuring the molten scars that twisted across his face. His robes, charred and tattered, flowed like embers in the wind. And behind him, a dozen Agnivarnas marched in unison, their molten forms casting an eerie light across the ruins.
Agnivesh stopped a short distance from the team, his fiery gaze sweeping over them with cold amusement.
“So,” he began, his voice smooth yet laced with malice, “these are Bharat Varsha’s new champions. The children of the storm.”
Arya stepped forward, his posture tense but controlled. “Agnivesh,” he said, his voice steady. “We know who you are. We know what you’ve done.”
Agnivesh tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Do you? Do you truly understand what I’ve done—or why?”
“You’ve attacked innocent people,” Devi interjected, her shields shimmering faintly as she moved closer. “You’ve burned cities, destroyed temples. What could possibly justify that?”
Agnivesh’s laughter was low and mocking. “Innocence is a lie, child. The world you cling to is built on stagnation and decay. I am merely clearing the way for something greater.”
“And I suppose you’re the one who gets to decide what’s ‘greater,’” Rudra growled, stepping forward with his rocky fists raised.
“Yes,” Agnivesh replied simply, his gaze unflinching. “The storm gave me the power to reshape this broken world. You, too, were touched by its fire. And yet you waste your gifts on defending the very system that holds you back.”
Arya’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not wasting anything. We’re here to stop you.”
Agnivesh’s molten scars twisted into something resembling a smirk. “You think you can stop me? You’re children playing with fire. Allow me to show you what true power looks like.”
He raised his hand, and the Agnivarnas surged forward, their molten forms glowing brighter as they charged.
The battle erupted in an instant.
Rudra met the first wave of Agnivarnas head-on, his rocky frame colliding with theirs in a clash of stone and molten fire. He slammed his fists into the constructs with bone-shaking force, sending two of them crashing into a nearby wall.
“Not so tough now, are you?” he growled, though his movements were slower than usual. The heat radiating from the Agnivarnas was draining, even for him.
Devi darted between the ruins, her shields shimmering as she protected civilians still fleeing the area. She deflected a fiery blast from one of the constructs, her voice sharp and commanding. “Keep moving! Don’t stop!”
Arun, standing on higher ground, focused on controlling his flames. He sent controlled bursts of fire toward the Agnivarnas, disrupting their movements and creating openings for Rudra and Devi to strike.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Arun shouted, a grin spreading across his face.
“Don’t get cocky!” Arya called back, his elastic limbs snapping out to ensnare a construct trying to flank Rudra. He yanked it off its feet and slammed it into the ground, but the effort left him breathing hard.
Meera, meanwhile, stood apart from the chaos, her focus entirely on Agnivesh. The whispers in her mind grew deafening, each one pulling her closer to the golden-masked figure.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Agnivesh said, his voice cutting through the din of battle. He stepped toward her, his molten scars glinting in the firelight. “The storm’s energy flows through you, just as it does through me. You and I are connected, Meera. You can sense it.”
Meera’s hands trembled, the visions flashing behind her eyes like lightning. “I’m nothing like you,” she said, though her voice wavered.
“You could be,” Agnivesh replied, his tone almost persuasive. “Join me, and together we could forge a new world. One unbound by the limitations of the old.”
Before Meera could respond, Arya’s voice cut through the air. “Stay away from her!”
Arya launched himself at Agnivesh, his elastic limbs stretching to strike. But Agnivesh moved with impossible speed, sidestepping the attack and retaliating with a burst of molten energy. Arya barely managed to dodge, the heat singeing his suit.
“You’re out of your depth, Kashyap,” Agnivesh said, his voice dripping with contempt. “You fight to preserve a world that no longer deserves to exist. How noble—and how foolish.”
The Agnivarnas began to regroup, their molten bodies radiating even greater heat. The team was visibly struggling, their movements slowing under the relentless assault.
Meera clenched her fists, her eyes glowing faintly as she stepped forward. “You’re wrong,” she said, her voice steady now. “We’re not preserving the world. We’re protecting it—from people like you.”
She raised her hands, the energy threads from her visions coalescing into a glowing lattice around the largest Agnivarna. With a sharp gesture, she unraveled its core, reducing it to a heap of cooling ash.
Agnivesh’s gaze lingered on her, his expression unreadable. “Interesting,” he murmured, before turning away. “This isn’t over, children of the storm. You’ve merely delayed the inevitable.”
With a wave of his hand, he and the remaining constructs dissolved into molten embers, vanishing into the night.
The battle was over, but the team stood amidst the ruins, their bodies battered and their spirits shaken.
“He let us go,” Arya said, his voice grim.
“No,” Meera replied. “He’s toying with us.”
The team exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the encounter settling heavily on their shoulders. Agnivesh had revealed his power—and his purpose.
And they knew the worst was yet to come.
The air inside the temporary command post was thick with tension. The team sat around a dented metal table in the remains of Prayag’s civic center. The room, dimly lit by portable floodlights, echoed with the faint hum of generators and the distant wail of sirens. Despite their victory—or survival—they were a group on the brink of collapse.
Arya leaned over the table, his hands splayed across its surface, his head bowed as he studied a map of the city. “We should’ve been faster,” he muttered, half to himself. “We lost too much ground before we even engaged.”
“We did what we could,” Devi replied, sitting across from him. Her voice was calm, but her exhaustion was evident. “It wasn’t perfect, but we stopped them.”
“Barely,” Rudra growled, his voice like grinding stone. He sat at the far end of the table, his massive arms crossed. “Agnivesh was toying with us out there. We were lucky to walk away.”
Arun slumped in a chair near the corner, fiddling with his gloves. “Lucky? Sure. Let’s call it that,” he muttered bitterly. “Lucky that we didn’t get roasted alive. Lucky that we didn’t lose more people.”
Rudra turned sharply toward him. “You have something to say, kid?”
“Yeah, I do!” Arun shot back, rising from his seat. His hands glowed faintly as his temper flared. “I’m sick of you acting like we’re supposed to be perfect out there. We’re not! We don’t even know what we’re doing half the time.”
“And whose fault is that?” Rudra snapped, standing to his full height. “Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time controlling your powers, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“Enough!” Arya’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. He straightened, glaring at both of them. “This isn’t helping. We’re supposed to be a team, but all I see is a group of people tearing each other apart.”
“Maybe that’s because we’re not a team,” Arun said, his voice quieter but no less pointed. “We’re just five people thrown into the deep end with no idea how to swim.”
The room fell into uneasy silence, the only sound the distant hum of the generators. Devi glanced around the table, her expression softening. “This isn’t just about what happened out there,” she said gently. “It’s about what’s happening to us. We’re all dealing with this in different ways.”
“Devi’s right,” Meera said quietly. She stood near the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression distant. “The storm didn’t just change our bodies—it’s messing with our minds, too. We’re all on edge. And that’s exactly what Agnivesh wants.”
Arya looked at her, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean?”
Meera hesitated, the whispers in her mind growing louder as she tried to find the right words. “When I… connected with that Agnivarna, I felt something. Agnivesh isn’t just watching us. He’s studying us. Learning our weaknesses. Every fight we’ve had, every mistake we’ve made—it’s all part of his plan to break us.”
“That’s great,” Rudra muttered. “As if we didn’t have enough to worry about.”
Devi turned to Arya. “What do we do?”
For a long moment, Arya didn’t respond. He stared at the map, his mind racing. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady but heavy with resolve. “We need to regroup. Train harder. Focus on building trust—not just in our powers, but in each other.”
Rudra let out a derisive snort. “Trust? That’s your big solution?”
“Yes,” Arya said firmly, meeting Rudra’s gaze. “Because without it, we’re nothing. Agnivesh knows that. And if we don’t figure this out soon, he’ll use it to destroy us.”
The group dispersed shortly after, each member retreating to their own corner of the compound to process the events of the day.
Rudra sat on a crumbling wall overlooking the Ganga, his massive hands resting on his knees. The weight of his transformation was literal and figurative, his rocky frame a constant reminder of how much he had lost—and how much he still had to prove.
Arun wandered through the rubble of the market square, his hands glowing faintly as he tried—and failed—to summon controlled bursts of flame. His frustration boiled over, and he punched a nearby metal sign, leaving a scorch mark.
Devi worked alongside relief workers, her shields protecting volunteers as they cleared debris. Her focus never wavered, but the strain was beginning to show in her movements.
Meera stood at the edge of the compound, staring at the distant horizon. The whispers in her mind were unrelenting now, their intensity building with every passing moment. She clutched her head, closing her eyes as the visions returned: flames consuming the Earth, Agnivesh standing triumphant, and her own face reflected in the golden mask.
“You’re part of this,” the whispers seemed to say. “You always were.”
Later that night, Arya sat alone in the mission control room, surrounded by glowing monitors. He replayed footage of their battles, analyzing every movement, every mistake. His shoulders sagged under the weight of leadership, the pressure of keeping the team—and the world—intact.
Devi entered quietly, setting a cup of tea on the table beside him. “You’re going to burn out if you keep this up,” she said gently.
Arya didn’t look up. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you do,” Devi replied, pulling up a chair. “You don’t have to do this alone, Arya. That’s what we’re here for. Let us help.”
Arya finally turned to her, the exhaustion in his eyes evident. “What if we fail?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Devi’s expression softened. “Then we fail together. But I’d rather go down fighting with you than watch you tear yourself apart trying to do it all alone.”
Arya nodded slowly, her words sinking in. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, more to himself than to her. “We have to.”
The next morning, as the team regrouped, there was an unspoken understanding in the air. They were fractured, but not broken. And for now, that was enough.
The first rays of sunlight pierced through the smoke hanging over Prayag, casting long shadows across the city’s ruins. The Chandrayaan-V team gathered in the command room, their exhaustion replaced by a simmering determination. Though battered and bruised, they were ready to move forward.
Arya stood at the head of the table, the glowing monitors behind him displaying a live feed of Bharat Varsha. Fires had been extinguished in most areas, and rescue operations were in full swing. But the map also showed reports of seismic and energy disturbances—markers of Agnivesh’s growing influence.
“We’re running out of time,” Arya began, his voice calm but urgent. “Agnivesh is escalating. These attacks aren’t just about destruction—they’re part of a larger strategy.”
Meera, who sat closest to the monitor, nodded. “He’s building something. Every Agnivarna we’ve fought, every strike he’s launched—it’s all been tied to areas rich in natural or spiritual energy.”
Arya gestured to the map. “Prayag was his most symbolic target so far. The convergence of the Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati is one of the most powerful energy nexuses in Bharat Varsha. If Agnivesh is gathering energy, this was a major step forward for him.”
“But what’s he building?” Devi asked, her brows furrowing.
“Something massive,” Meera replied, her voice tinged with dread. “And if he succeeds, it could destroy everything.”
The room fell silent, the weight of Meera’s words sinking in. Then, Rudra broke the quiet.
“Great. So he’s out there playing cosmic architect, and we’re stuck cleaning up his mess. How do we stop him if we don’t even know where he’s working from?”
Arya tapped the screen, zooming in on a region of the northern mountains. “We might have a lead,” he said. “Satellite data shows unusual energy signatures near the Himalayan ranges. The pattern matches the storm we encountered on the moon. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
“That’s where he’s hiding,” Meera said, her tone certain. “The storm started it all, and now it’s fueling him.”
Arun leaned forward, studying the map. “So we go there. Shut him down before he does whatever it is he’s planning.”
“It’s not that simple,” Arya replied. “The terrain is dangerous, and the energy readings are unstable. If we go in unprepared, we’ll be walking into a trap.”
Devi frowned. “Then we need more information. Is there anything in the Vedic archives that could help us? Something about the Shakti Astra or the Chandrapradesh Fragment?”
Arya hesitated, glancing at Meera. “That’s where you come in.”
Meera stiffened, the whispers in her mind growing louder. “What do you mean?”
“You said you could feel him,” Arya said gently. “That there’s a connection between you and Agnivesh. If we can use that connection to learn more about his plans—”
“No,” Meera interrupted, her voice sharp. “It’s too dangerous. Every time I try to focus on that connection, it feels like he’s pulling me deeper. Like he’s in my mind, waiting for me to slip.”
Arya’s expression softened. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. But if we don’t figure out what he’s building—”
“I know,” Meera said, cutting him off. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ll try. But I can’t promise I’ll find anything.”
“That’s all we need,” Arya replied.
The team cleared the room, giving Meera the space she needed to concentrate. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her breathing slow and deliberate. The whispers in her mind grew louder, fragments of Agnivesh’s voice cutting through the noise.
“You feel it, don’t you?” the voice murmured. “The fire. The power. It calls to you, Meera.”
Flashes of molten landscapes filled her mind—rivers of lava coursing through ancient ruins, the earth splitting apart under the weight of searing energy. At the center of it all stood Agnivesh, his golden mask gleaming, his arms raised in triumph.
“What are you building?” Meera whispered aloud, her voice trembling. “What are you trying to do?”
A faint chuckle echoed in her mind. “You already know the answer,” Agnivesh’s voice replied. “You’ve seen it. The storm that changed us—it was only the beginning. The Shakti Astra will remake this world, and I will stand as its creator.”
The vision shifted. Meera saw the Chandrapradesh Fragment glowing with intense energy, its surface fracturing as it radiated waves of power. Surrounding it were towering structures of molten stone, their spires reaching toward the heavens.
A surge of heat flooded Meera’s senses, and she gasped, breaking out of the vision. She opened her eyes to find Arya standing nearby, his expression a mix of concern and urgency.
“What did you see?” he asked.
Meera wiped sweat from her brow, her hands trembling. “He’s building something called the Shakti Astra. He’s using the energy from the Chandrapradesh Fragment to fuel it. If he activates it…” She trailed off, her voice faltering.
Arya crouched beside her. “If he activates it, what?”
“It won’t just destroy cities,” Meera said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’ll tear the Panchabhutas apart. The balance of the elements—earth, water, fire, air, and space—will collapse. The entire world could unravel.”
The team reconvened moments later, Meera’s revelation casting a heavy pall over the room.
“We have to stop him,” Devi said, her voice firm. “If the Shakti Astra is capable of that kind of destruction, we can’t let him finish it.”
“But how do we even get to him?” Arun asked. “If he’s in the Himalayas, we’re talking about some of the most treacherous terrain on the planet. Not to mention whatever defenses he has waiting for us.”
Arya looked at the map, his mind racing. “We’ll need to plan carefully. If we’re going to take this fight to him, we can’t afford to make any mistakes.”
“Then we start preparing now,” Rudra said, his rocky fist slamming into his palm. “I don’t care how dangerous it is—we’re not letting him destroy everything we’ve fought for.”
The team nodded, a renewed sense of purpose filling the room. Despite their differences, despite the odds stacked against them, they knew what had to be done.
Agnivesh’s Shakti Astra was nearing completion. And they were the only ones who could stop it.