(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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The air beneath the giant banyan tree had turned heavy.
Even the young disciples training nearby had quietly moved away after hearing the name Mahabir Lama spoken aloud.
Only the rustling leaves and distant sounds of waterfalls echoed through the Gurukul grounds now.
Standing before Rudra and the others, Angama Bali slowly sat down upon the stone platform beneath the tree.
His aged eyes looked distant, as though he was staring not at the present… but at memories he wished had stayed buried.
Rudra, Amirtha, Junoo, and Mohan Bhargav remained silent, waiting.
Finally, Angama Bali spoke.
"Mahabir was not born evil."
His calm voice carried a quiet sadness.
"He was born angry."
Junoo folded her arms while leaning against one of the banyan roots.
"…those are usually the dangerous ones."
Angama Bali gave a slow nod.
-Nod!
"Yes."
"He was born in a village where people like him were treated as less than human."
Amirtha's expression softened slightly.
"...."
The old master continued.
"The temples rejected them. The priests refused their prayers. They were not allowed to touch holy offerings… or even stand near certain sacred grounds."
Mohan Bhargav lowered his gaze silently.
"These things still exist in some places,"
He muttered quietly with a sigh.
Angama Bali's face darkened slightly.
"Mahabir questioned everything from a very young age."
"If the gods created everyone equally… why are some treated as filth?"
"Why do the gods stay silent while people suffer?"
"Why worship gods who only answer the powerful?"
The old master's voice grew heavier with each sentence.
"He began to hate the gods. Not out of arrogance… but disappointment."
Junoo let out a low whistle.
-Whistle!
"That kind of hatred festers deep."
Angama Bali nodded again.
-Nod!
"He believed the world itself was corrupted because humanity surrendered responsibility to gods."
"He saw wars… Poverty… Caste discrimination… And suffering…"
"…and blamed the heavens for allowing it."
Rudra remained quiet while listening carefully.
"...."
Because deep inside—He already understood where this story was heading.
Angama Bali's eyes slowly hardened.
"Eventually… Mahabir reached a terrifying conclusion."
Amirtha frowned slightly.
-Frown!
"What conclusion?"
The old master looked directly at them.
"If the gods are flawed… then humanity needs a better god."
Silence spread instantly.
Even Junoo's usual playful expression disappeared.
Angama Bali continued slowly.
"Mahabir no longer wished to worship gods. He wished to become one."
The wind beneath the banyan tree suddenly picked up, causing the hanging roots to sway around them like restless spirits.
Mohan spoke quietly.
"And the Nine Scriptures are his path."
"Yes. He believe it was the path..."
Angama Bali's voice turned grave.
"The Scriptures are not merely books."
"They are fragments."
"Pieces of an Astra so powerful that even Emperor Ashoka feared its existence of his very own astra."
Rudra's eyes narrowed slightly.
Angama Bali continued the ancient tale.
"After witnessing countless wars and destruction, Ashoka realized that no single human should possess such overwhelming power."
"So he shattered the Astra into nine fragments. Each fragment carrying one aspect of its power."
"Then he entrusted those fragments to nine bloodlines loyal to him."
"Nine guardian families. To protect them through generations."
Amirtha slowly processed the revelation she knew it was possible that even brahmastra was broken to three pieces due to her and Dev's confrontation.
"So the scriptures themselves… are parts of one complete Astra."
Angama Bali nodded his head.
-Nod!
"And if reunited …they would create something capable of reshaping the world."
Junoo muttered under her breath,
"Yeah, definitely apocalypse material."
But Rudra remained silent.
"...."
Inside his mind, thoughts moved rapidly.
'Mahabir Lama… A man crushed by society's hypocrisy… A victim born from prejudice and hatred…'
He could understand the anger. The bitterness. The resentment toward a broken system.
But there was a line.
And Mahabir had crossed it long ago.
Rudra exhaled slowly.
-Sigh!
"…society created his hatred."
His voice was calm.
"But he chose what to do with it."
Angama Bali looked at him quietly.
Rudra's eyes hardened slightly.
"A victim can still become a monster."
Junoo gave a small nod in agreement.
"Exactly. Plenty of people suffer. Not all of them start collecting doomsday scriptures."
Mohan sighed deeply while rubbing his forehead.
-Sigh!
"So what now?"
Angama Bali looked toward the distant forest.
"Now… Mahabir hunts the remaining guardians."
A tense silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because everyone present understood one thing clearly.
This was no longer about revenge.
Or ideology. Or even power.
Mahabir Lama intended to become something beyond human.
And if he succeeded—The world itself might not survive what came after.
A heavy silence lingered beneath the ancient banyan tree after Angama Bali finished speaking.
The young Astra users training in the distance had already sensed the seriousness of the conversation and wisely kept away from the area.
Only the rustling wind and occasional cries of forest birds filled the pauses between their words.
Rudra stood quietly with his arms crossed while his thoughts moved rapidly.
'Hyderabad…'
According to what he remembered from the events of Mirai, this was around the point where the main threads of fate would slowly begin converging.
Vedha should already be moving.
Or hiding.
And if the story was truly unfolding the same way—Then another important figure would eventually appear.
The son of Ambika Prajapati.
Rudra slowly looked toward Angama Bali.
"There's something else."
Angama Bali gave him his full attention immediately.
Rudra continued calmly,
"If someone comes here asking about the Scriptures… especially the son of Ambika Prajapati …inform me immediately."
The moment Ambika's name was mentioned, Angama Bali's gaze shifted slightly.
He clearly understood the implication.
"You believe he will become involved?"
Rudra nodded once.
-Nod!
"He should."
Junoo raised an eyebrow at the wording.
'Should?'
But she wisely chose not to interrupt.
Rudra continued,
"If he appears, don't let him wander alone. We need everyone connected to this matter working together."
"Not chasing separate paths blindly."
Amirtha nodded softly in agreement.
-Nod!
"That would only make Mahabir's job easier."
Angama Bali remained silent for several moments before finally nodding slowly.
"...."
"It shall be done."
The surrounding disciples watching from afar quietly exchanged glances.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Even among Astra users, Rudra's words carried immense authority now.
Not merely because of his strength.
But because of what he represented.
The chosen wielder of the Brahmastra itself.
The mother of Astras.
The very Astra that countless ancient texts described with reverence and fear.
For generations, Astra users had treated the Brahmastra almost like a myth which cannot be tamed.
And now—Its bearer stood before them beneath the banyan tree.
Alive. Real.
Several disciples couldn't help but stare subtly at Rudra with awe.
Especially after the war against Dev.
Even now, stories of that battle continued spreading across hidden Astra circles like legends whispered around sacred fires.
The man who stood against Dev.
The one who survived wielding the Brahmastra's overwhelming power.
The Astra user who changed the balance of the hidden world itself.
Angama Bali slowly looked at Rudra again.
"There are many among the Astra circles who still speak of your battle with Dev."
Junoo smirked proudly before Rudra could even answer.
-Smirk!
"'Speak' is putting it lightly. Some people think he's basically a walking natural disaster."
Amirtha sighed softly beside her.
-Sigh!
"You are not helping."
Junoo shrugged carelessly.
"I'm not wrong though."
Rudra simply ignored them and looked back toward Angama Bali.
"Legends won't stop Mahabir."
The old master's expression turned serious once more.
"No …but perhaps the man carrying the Brahmastra can."
For a brief moment, silence settled again beneath the ancient tree.
Then Rudra finally spoke.
"First we gather everyone."
"Then we move."
His voice remained calm.
But beneath that calmness was certainty.
Because deep inside—He already knew the storm had begun moving.
And now all the major pieces of the board were slowly being drawn together.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Guys My New Fic name is:
-->Karuppan: King of Openings.
Check it out... I hope you will like it
Whats your thought's guys.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review!!! And power stone too!!!
Guys it will motivate me more?