Night and Dawn
Rudhra pressed his sword hard against Sabo’s, grunting with effort as the ground lurched beneath them, their footing shifting with every tremor. His eyes drifted past her—to Yodhika in the distance, the baby in her arms slowly fading away.
In that brief moment of distraction, Sabo stepped forward—but the earth jolted. She adjusted mid-motion, then planted her foot against his chest and shoved him to the ground.
She leapt forward, bringing her sword down to pierce him.
Rudhra smiled.
From the ground, he raised his sword and aimed it at her as she descended. The ground bucked again. Sabo twisted mid-air to correct her angle, flicking his blade aside with a sharp motion. In the same breath, she drew her sword back and drove it straight into his chest.
Rudhra screamed.
“You are at your limit, huh?” Sabo said coldly.
He continued to cry out in pain.
Sabo turned her head slightly, steadying herself as the tremors rippled through the battlefield. “Are you not going after her?” she asked.
Devansh didn’t move. “This idiot sent her right into our hands. Don’t worry—Ashura is near Hanuman Gate 1.”
Sabo’s expression darkened.
“D… don’t do this, Sabo,” Rudhra said, his voice breaking as the ground quivered beneath him. “You’re on the wrong side. I know you… you’re not that bad…”
She looked at him in silence.
Then she twisted the sword deeper inside him.
With the last of his strength, Rudhra swung his blade toward her head—but the shaking threw off his aim.
Sabo flipped backward, pulling her sword free from his chest as she moved, landing with a slight skid as the ground shifted under her feet.
Rudhra’s wound began to close—slowly.
He rose to his feet, unsteady, adjusting his stance against the relentless tremors.
Sabo pointed her sword at his head and lunged forward.
Rudhra swayed left and twisted the handle of his sword, inverting the blade. He thrust it sharply toward Sabo’s face.
The ground jerked violently.
Without even looking, Sabo raised her sword to the right, catching his attack on the flat of her blade. She bent backward, letting the force slide past her, then brought her sword down as Rudhra pressed forward with greater force.
Rudhra stumbled—his balance broken by both the clash and the unstable earth.
In that instant, Sabo twisted her sword in her hand and drove it straight through his skull.
She wrenched his weapon from his grip and slammed it down through his forearm, pinning it to the ground. The trembling earth rattled the blade, but she forced it deeper, locking his hand in place.
Rudhra collapsed, motionless.
Sabo grabbed a strip of cloth from one of the fallen bodies nearby and tied him up tightly, bracing herself as another tremor rolled through.
“Good. Now take him to Noah. Ashura will gather the rest of them,” Devansh said.
Sabo gave a faint nod, her face dull and unreadable.
“Why are you doing this?” Perumal Thirumurthy cried, staring at the Ashura warriors as they fired randomly at the Amirthyas.
When the earthquake drove them out of their apartments, he had heard members of his clan shouting from a distance, urging everyone to run toward Hanuman Gate 1 as the land was being destroyed. Before they could process it, loud bangs erupted through the crowd from all directions.
Panic spread instantly.
People began to run, but the Ashura warriors surrounding them unleashed immense energy from their cores, halting their escape. The forty Amirthyas who had approached earlier fought back with everything they had, but they fell quickly under the overwhelming force.
Many collapsed, screaming, as bullets tore through their legs. Others stood trembling, unable to move. Families huddled together, crying in shock as they realized their wounds were not healing.
At the center of the crowd, Kousala and Bhuvan looked at each other, tears streaming down their faces.
In the distance, Ashura walked toward them—calm despite the violently shaking ground.
A squad leader ran up to him.
“Have all of them been accounted for?” Ashura asked.
“Yes, sir. A few families are still in their apartments. My subordinates have rounded them up and are bringing them down now.”
“Good. Take them to Hanuman Gate immediately. We only have two more hours. The Amirthyas who attacked us at the palace—and the weaponry—are all being brought there.”
The squad leader turned and raised his hand.
The Ashura warriors opened fire on the families at the perimeter.
Cries of agony filled the air.
The rest of the crowd surged inward, pressing toward the center in blind terror.
“Do not speak a single word,” the squad leader shouted. “Walk toward Hanuman Gate!”
The crowd froze.
“T… this must be a mistake. Please, let us go,” Perumal pleaded from the front.
The squad leader didn’t hesitate. He raised his pistol and shot him.
Perumal dropped instantly.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
“Didn’t I say not to utter a word?” the squad leader barked.
A sudden crack split the air.
A bullet pierced through the squad leader’s head.
He collapsed.
Ashura’s eyes widened as he turned.
Two groups charged toward them—twenty from one side, forty from the other—moving with explosive speed.
Ashura drew his sword.
Ranjan, leading the group of twenty, fired again.
Ashura sliced the bullet mid-air.
Energy surged from his core. Several Ashura warriors were suddenly pulled toward him, lifted into the air. As they neared, he spun, his blade carving through them, disemboweling their bodies.
But their flesh began to reform.
Without hesitation, Ashura drew his gun and fired Tamaskara bullets into their heads, killing them before they could regenerate.
Ranjan’s team unleashed a barrage of gunfire, striking the surrounding Ashura warriors with relentless force.
“Forget the order—kill the attackers immediately!” Ashura roared.
The warriors scrambled, drawing their guns and firing chaotically at the advancing Amirthyas. Tamaskara bullets tore through them, dropping many—but the rest kept pushing forward.
“Run, everyone!” Ranjan shouted to the captive families. “Run toward Hanuman Gate 2! Don’t stop!”
He turned to his men.
“Focus on the Pranvars on one side. Pass the message to the other forty—discard the swords. Take weapons from the fallen Pranvars and fire at the living ones!”
Two fighters broke off and sprinted toward the other group.
The captive families ran with everything they had toward Hanuman Gate 2.
Ashura grabbed a nearby warrior.
“Inform Devansh—we’re taking the Amirthyas through the port at Gate 2. We’ll communicate the meeting point later.”
The warrior nodded and ran toward Hanuman Gate 1.
Ashura resumed firing at the Amirthyas.
Meanwhile, the group of forty Amirthyas struck from the flank, attacking the Pranvars targeting the fleeing families. Ranjan’s team followed, firing into the Ashura warriors from the side.
Bodies fell on both sides.
Many of the forty Amirthyas were killed, along with the Pranvars who fought them. The survivors didn’t stop—they seized the weapons of the fallen and continued their assault with renewed fury.
“Wear the gas masks!” Ashura shouted as he and his warriors chased the fleeing Amirthyas.
Masks snapped into place as they ran.
“Fire the gas canisters—now!”
Several warriors pulled out canister launchers and fired Tamaskara gas bombs into the path of the escaping Amirthyas. The canisters arced through the air, landing ahead of them—
—and exploded.
Black gas burst outward, spreading violently across the ground.
The Amirthyas began to fall.
One after another.
They staggered, collapsed, and clawed at their throats. Panic spread instantly. The survivors stopped running and turned back—only to find Ashura’s warriors closing in, surrounding them completely.
The gas thickened.
More bodies dropped.
Ranjan and his group, trapped within the encirclement, raised their weapons and charged, firing as they ran. But they were outnumbered. Overwhelmed.
The Amirthyas fell rapidly—both to the gas and the relentless assault.
Ashura extended his hand.
Urja surged from his core.
Ranjan was yanked off his feet and dragged through the air toward him.
Ashura caught him mid-flight and slammed him into the ground, pinning him down.
“You’ve caused us enough trouble,” Ashura said coldly.
Ranjan struggled beneath him.
“Call them off,” Ashura commanded. “You might still save some of them.”
Ranjan’s hand slipped to his side. He pulled out a knife and thrust it toward Ashura’s gut.
Ashura caught his wrist mid-strike.
Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Ranjan’s chest.
Ranjan screamed.
“You are far beyond your level, you imbecile,” Ashura said. “Tell them to stop.”
Ranjan’s strength began to fade. His eyes drifted to his people—some fighting, others collapsing in the gas.
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Stop… fighting…” he shouted weakly. “Yield!”
Slowly, the Amirthyas ceased their resistance.
“Deploy the antidote!” Ashura ordered.
The warriors reloaded their launchers and fired a second set of canisters. These burst into a white mist that spread across the battlefield.
The Amirthyas cried out—
—but the black gas began to dissipate.
Their deaths stopped.
They stood frozen, breathing heavily, looking around in fear.
“Now move toward Hanuman Gate 2,” Ashura commanded. “No more resistance.”
Surrounded by armed warriors, the Amirthyas began to walk—shaken, weeping—across the trembling ground.
Ashura hauled Ranjan to his feet, wrenched his arms behind him, and cuffed them. Gripping his shoulder, he dragged him along.
“How did you escape the weapon storage?” Ashura asked. “You were trapped.”
Ranjan stayed silent.
Ashura twisted the knife still lodged in his chest.
Ranjan cried out. “We used your weapons… broke the back doors…”
Ashura’s eyes narrowed. “Who taught you to use them?”
“Rudhra,” Ranjan said, meeting his gaze. “He taught us everything.”
Ashura frowned.
“And the warriors captured at the east gate?”
“We freed them.”
Ashura clenched his jaw. Then he smiled faintly.
“Rudhra trained you well,” he said. “Now we reap what he sowed.”
They reached Hanuman Gate 2.
“Is the ship ready?” Ashura asked a nearby warrior.
“Yes, sir.”
They moved past the gate toward the port.
A sudden metallic clang rang through the air.
Everyone froze.
Before their eyes, half the ship—
—vanished.
The remaining half tilted, sinking into the sea.
The lights from the watchtower flickered above.
Then—
something moved in the sky.
The missing half of the ship hurtled downward toward them.
The Amirthyas screamed.
Ashura and his warriors unleashed immense Urja from their cores, pushing against the falling mass. With a final surge of energy, they deflected it into the sea.
A thunderous splash followed.
Ashura’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Who did this?”
A ripple tore through space.
A portal opened.
From it stepped a child, a middle-aged man, and a woman.
Silence fell.
Ashura stared at them. “W… who are you?”
Adhwa, the child, smiled.
“We are your gods,” he said. “And your part in this story… has come to an end.”
Thara, the father, glanced at Padma, the mother, beside him. “Shall I?”
Padma nodded.
Ashura immediately summoned Urja, attempting to pull them toward him.
Their bodies shifted—
—and snapped back.
A glitch in time.
Thara blinked.
Ashura’s body split cleanly in two.
For a moment, there was no blood—only a perfect cut.
Then it spilled.
Screams erupted.
Thara blinked again.
Every Ashura warrior was sliced in half.
Blood rained across the trembling ground.
The Amirthyas broke into chaos, running in every direction—
—but the world snapped again.
They were back where they started.
Gasps filled the air.
They tried again.
And again.
Each time—reset.
Adhwa laughed softly. “You didn’t have to do that, mom” he said to Padma. “Father is handling it.”
Padma gave a slight nod.
The Amirthyas ran once more—
This time, they weren’t pulled back.
Hope flickered.
Then—
portals opened in the air before each of them.
Guns appeared, floating inches from their faces.
They froze.
Thara looked at Adhwa.
Adhwa nodded.
Every gun fired.
Tamaskara bullets pierced through their heads.
Bodies dropped instantly.
Silence returned.
Only three remained standing—
Ranjan.
Kousala.
Bhuvan.
Ranjan’s fists clenched.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he roared, lunging forward.
He froze mid-step.
Completely still.
The three figures walked toward them.
“We’re going to have some fun with you,” Adhwa said with a smile.
“Why are you doing this?” Kousala asked, trembling.
Adhwa turned to her.
“That’s not something you imbeciles would understand,” he said calmly. “Not yet.”
He paused.
“But you and your husband… you’re special. My master is interested in you.”
“You should feel honored.”
“Your master?” Bhuvan asked.
Adhwa’s eyes flashed.
Bhuvan’s head exploded.
Kousala screamed.
Then—
his head reformed.
She collapsed into him, shaking.
“Only I have the right to speak of him!” Adhwa snapped.
Ranjan strained against the invisible force holding him.
“Let’s go,” Adhwa said, smiling again. “My beloved pawns.”
He glanced at Thara.
A portal opened.
They stepped through—taking Ranjan, Kousala, and Bhuvan with them.
The port fell silent.
Bodies of Ashura warriors and Amirthyas lay scattered, trembling along with the shattered port as the earthquake raged on.
Yodhika moved swiftly through the forest toward Hanuman Gate 1, the ground trembling beneath her feet.
The baby in her arms cried loudly.
She slowed, catching her breath. Gently rocking him, she pressed a kiss to his head.
“Just a few more minutes, Aarav,” she whispered.
Reaching the edge of the forest near the port, she slipped behind a tree and peered out.
Her breath caught.
A massive ship loomed at the port. Pranvar soldiers stood aboard it, armed and alert.
Yodhika’s gaze shifted to Hanuman Gate 1.
Sabo emerged slowly—
—with Rudhra slung over her shoulder.
Yodhika froze.
Rudhra’s body hung lifeless. A sword had pierced through his head, and his hand was locked around another blade, its tip bent where it had driven through his palm.
Yodhika’s breathing turned ragged.
Devansh stepped through the gate.
Suddenly—
the ground stopped shaking.
Yodhika looked around in confusion.
“Everyone, we have forty minutes to leave the island. Move!” Devansh shouted.
Ashura warriors fired at the ground near the line of Amirthyas being herded toward the ship. The captives hurried, stumbling onto the lower deck.
Sabo climbed the stairs toward the upper deck, still carrying Rudhra’s unmoving body.
“Is Yodhika here?” Devansh asked a nearby squad leader.
“No… sir,” the man replied hesitantly.
Devansh’s expression darkened.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Behind the tree, Yodhika slowly stepped backward into the forest.
Devansh opened his eyes and scanned the area.
His gaze stopped.
Locked onto the tree.
Yodhika’s heart pounded.
She turned and ran.
“Yodhika! Stop right there!” Devansh shouted.
She didn’t look back.
She ran deeper into the forest with everything she had.
Devansh turned sharply.
“Tell Adhrivan to take command,” he ordered the squad leader. “If I don’t return in ten minutes, leave immediately.”
“Sir—?”
“Do as I say!” Devansh snapped, already running after her.
The squad leader hesitated, then rushed toward the ship.
Adhrivan stood at the front of the upper deck, staring out into the distance.
The squad leader approached him and relayed Devansh’s command.
“Is everyone accounted for?” Adhrivan asked.
“Yes, sir. Ashura will contact us after departure. He’s coming from the other port.”
“Good,” Adhrivan said. “Raise the anchor.”
The squad leader blinked in confusion. “But sir—Devansh’s order—”
Adhrivan turned, his voice cold.
“Who is in command now?”
“Y… you, sir.”
“Then raise the anchor.”
The squad leader hesitated. “But we’ve only brought in half the Amirthyas. We need ten more minutes—”
Adhrivan walked to the edge of the deck and looked down at the line of Amirthyas still boarding.
“Shoot the rest,” he said.
The squad leader froze. “S-sir… the plan—”
Adhrivan didn’t wait.
He pulled the gun from the soldier’s holster and fired.
One shot.
Then another.
The Amirthyas at the rear of the line dropped one by one.
Panic rippled through the remaining captives, forcing them to rush onto the ship faster.
Adhrivan continued firing—precise, methodical—each Tamaskara bullet finding its mark.
Some Amirthyas leapt into the sea.
He shot them too.
Relentless.
Until none remained.
“Now start the ship,” he said calmly, handing the weapon back.
“S… sure, sir,” the squad leader stammered, hurrying away.
Adhrivan turned.
Rudraaj and Rudransh approached him.
“What are you doing?” Rudraaj asked.
“Improvising,” Adhrivan replied. “We don’t have as much time as Father believed.”
Rudraaj studied him carefully. “What about Father?”
“Our mission is above him. He knows that.”
Adhrivan began walking along the deck.
His brothers followed.
“We are the leaders of the Pranvars now,” Adhrivan said. He paused. “And we will execute Father’s plans… better.”
He stopped at the front of the ship, staring out at the vast sea.
“We will bring this world to its knees.”
Rudraaj exhaled slowly.
“Alright,” he said. “You’re our leader now. We’ll see it through.”
He placed an arm around Rudransh’s shoulder.
“Won’t we?”
Rudransh nodded silently.
Adhrivan stood at the rear of the ship, watching his homeland sink beneath the rising waves.
“Fire the Urjagharbha when the waves crest,” he said.
Sabo stood beside him. “Yes, sir.”
Adhrivan glanced at her. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ Just use my name.”
Sabo hesitated. “Okay… Adhrivan.”
He nodded faintly.
“Has Rudhra woken up?” he asked.
“Yes. He’s in his cell on the lower deck.”
“I’ll see him after dawn.”
Sabo paused before speaking again. “We secured only a handful of Amirthyas… What is your plan?”
Adhrivan looked at her.
Then he turned and began to walk away slowly.
“To use them,” he said, his voice calm, “as motivation.”
Sabo lowered her gaze.
Hello, sister. You did your job well.
Adhwa’s voice echoed inside her mind.
Sabo said nothing.
What? Are you sulking? he added with a faint chuckle.
How long will you make me do this? Sabo asked silently. These… disheartening acts?
You already know the answer, Adhwa replied. Until we find what Master wants.
Sabo’s thoughts faltered.
And our promise? she asked, her voice fragile.
We are talking about raising your age, Adhwa paused. We’ll see what we can do.
Sabo hesitated.
And when will I get to die?
There was silence.
For a moment, even the crashing sea seemed distant.
Then Adhwa spoke again—his tone no longer playful.
It is the same answer I gave you thousands of years ago.
A pause.
We won’t. Ever.
Sabo slowly lifted her face toward the east.
The first dim light of the rising sun touched her eyes— —and caught the tear that slid down her cheek.
(Chapter 0 complete)
(To be continued)
Karun G Nath 
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