"What kind of motivation?" Raghav asked.
"You have wasted enough of my time," Pitha-Ma said evenly. "If you cannot master your feelings… it will be a matter of life and death."
"Wait, wha—"
The floor vanished beneath him.
Raghav plummeted, screaming into open air.
"What am I supposed to do?!" he yelled.
"Transform," the sage's voice answered calmly in his mind.
"I can't!"
"Then believe. Use your power."
"This is straight-up death!" Raghav shouted, still in his three-piece suit, wind roaring past.
"No. There is water below."
He hit the surface hard—splash.
Raghav woke gasping on the same bed-like platform, drenched and furious.
"I'm going to kill you," he panted.
"I am immortal," Pitha-Ma replied dryly.
And the floor dropped again.
"Use your power or keep falling until you do."
Raghav cursed.
"Now that's low," the sage said.
After several more falls—each ending in the same bed—Raghav finally said,
"Wait. Maybe we should talk."
"No."
Another drop.
"Your arrogance won't help. Was that pleading?"
"No."
More falls. More waking up gasping.
Finally, a hint:
"You can always ask for help."
Raghav fell again.
He started shouting,
"Help me!"
Nothing.
"Perhaps ask God for help," Pitha-Ma suggested.
Raghav immediately called out in desperation,
"Please—help me!"
He still hit the water. Still woke on the bed.
But this time… something felt different.
He touched his neck. Gills. Smooth, flexible slits along the sides.
He wasn't struggling to breathe. The water felt… natural.
"At least the VFX is good," he muttered aloud.
"Aren't you going to use your power? I thought you'd be excited."
Raghav pushed off—swam like he'd been born in the sea. He maneuvered effortlessly, leaped from the water like a flying fish, tried to stay airborne—and failed.
"You can't fly," Pitha-Ma said.
Raghav scowled.
"Damn old man."
"You should respect your elders."
"I will when I become one."
Then he sensed something—odd, pulling at him.
"What's that? I feel… something strange."
"Your powers awakening. A Maharakshak often inherits abilities from his familiars. You may be able to sense things far away… and perhaps grow in size."
"Wait—what? Like Atom Smasher?"
"I don't know that name, but if he can increase or decrease size—yes. And right now, you have the sensing ability."
Raghav focused. The feeling came from the north.
He swam that way without thinking.
Pitha-Ma warned,
"No human should see you."
"So there are people?"
He surfaced near a massive container ship—half-submerged already, tilting dangerously in rough waves.
"What's happening?"
"The ship is caught in a storm. Extra weight is pulling it under."
Raghav moved closer.
"Can I help them?"
"Yes—if you can transform properly. Right now… I doubt it."
"I'm going to try anyway."
"What's wrong in trying?" he added—his own signature line.
He approached silently.
"Anyone still on board?" he asked in his mind.
"Everyone evacuated. Twenty-five survivors in three lifeboats. Two are injured. Five women among them. And—"
"And?"
"One is in labor."
Raghav froze.
"Time?"
"Six minutes, twenty-five seconds… twenty-four…"
He looked up. Two lifeboats clustered together; the third drifted dangerously close to the sinking ship.
"If you're going to help, guide them southeast. The storm weakens there. Another cargo vessel is nearby."
"One thing at a time."
Above, frightened voices rose in Japanese. Men prayed. One tried desperately to steady their boat. A woman cried out in pain.
Suddenly one man lost balance—fell overboard. It was the husband of the pregnant woman. She screamed.
Before he could sink too far, an unseen force lifted him gently back toward the boat. Hands pulled him in. He gasped, wide-eyed.
"Someone… someone was there," he stammered in Japanese.
They looked puzzled—then saw the third lifeboat speeding toward them, untouched by the storm.
The boat passed, then their own began to move—pulled by an invisible current. They looked down: nothing visible.
Minutes later, all three boats emerged from the worst of the storm into gentler rain.
From the water below, a faint silhouette watched them go.
"Ryūjin…" one man whispered in awe.
Others repeated it—thankful, reverent.
The pregnant woman's labor intensified. Her husband held her hand.
"We have to do this underwater," one of the helpers said gently. "It's the only way she'll make it."
He resisted at first—then agreed.
They lowered her carefully. Two men—including her husband—supported her in the water.
"Relax," he told her in Japanese. "I'm here. God will save us. Believe."
She calmed, tears mixing with seawater.
"Push," the helper urged.
With a final cry, she gave birth.
The husband dove down—saw a figure holding the newborn with a gentle, genuine smile.
Raghav offered the child upward.
The man took his daughter, stunned. Raghav gave a small nod—and vanished into the depths.
The husband surfaced, placed the baby in waiting arms, then looked back.
The mysterious figure was gone.
He hugged his wife tightly.
"God saved us. I saw Him. He handed our daughter to me."
Tears of relief and wonder flowed.
Back in the Depths
"Didn't you hear what I said earlier?" Pitha-Ma asked sternly.
"I did."
Raghav looked at his arms—still faintly shimmering.
Sunset – Small Island Shore
Raghav sat on a rock, suit jacket discarded, white shirt and black pants soaked. The setting sun painted the sea gold.
"It's beautiful," he said quietly.
"Go into the forest," Pitha-Ma instructed. "I want to show you something."
"Why?"
"You know about Soma."
"Yeah—the elixir that gives power, not immortality. Hidden behind some magical barrier that scares humans away, messes with their minds."
"Yes. That's what I want to show you."
"Isn't it going to scare me off too?"
"No. Go inside."
Raghav followed his instinct through the trees—until he reached a modest pond surrounded by broken ancient stone pillars.
"Dive in."
He did. Gills appeared again. He swam deeper.
A soft glow appeared below.
He followed it to an underwater air pocket.
Inside: a small basin—basketball-hoop sized—filled with glowing blue liquid.
"Soma," he breathed.
"The true Soma—older than time. Each drop holds unmatched power. This is what gave the gods their divine strength."
"Do I need to drink it?"
"No. You came to understand why it has caused so much conflict. Power is everything when borders exist. In ancient times, the first wars among gods, demons, asuras—even among men—were fought over Soma."
"Is it radioactive?"
"Perhaps."
"If it gives power, why don't we use it?"
"It is addictive. Only those of pure divine lineage can handle it without consequence. Demons, asuras, and humans… most become addicted. Humans who survive the surge often lose their minds."
"So a Maharakshak can't drink it."
"Not exactly."
"You could drink it now for a boost—but only if you're prepared. Otherwise, it will destroy you."
"How do I prepare?"
"Through balance."
"You know I can't meditate."
"But you can concentrate, can't you?"
Raghav felt the old man smile.
Before he could ask why, the world shifted again.
He stood on the shore—on a narrow stone ledge overlooking deep water.
"I'm not falling," he said.
"Why would I do that again? You learned the lesson. You are stubborn. I needed to break through that. Now I want you to calm your mind. A calm mind is the strongest defense in any situation. Your mind is chaotic—that affects your decisions and blocks your transformation."
"Why not just give me all the power? You said I'm the only one left. Hand it over. I'll learn to use it while fighting. My morals and goodness will grow slowly. I'll learn responsibility."
"Power that is not earned corrupts. Power not won through effort never reaches its full potential. The one who receives it without struggle never understands its true weight. If you do not earn it, you do not deserve it."
"That's harsh… but not entirely wrong. Power is power. What matters is the person's condition. A hungry man uses it to end hunger. A lustful man fulfills desire. A dreamer fulfills dreams. A power-hungry man seeks more power."
He paused.
"But a man with a good heart uses it to do what's right."
"And what is right?" Pitha-Ma asked.
Raghav quoted softly:
"Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana
Ma karma-phala-hetur bhur ma te sangostv akarmani."
"You have the right to perform your duty, but never to the fruits of your actions. Let not the fruits be your motive, nor let attachment to inaction arise."
He continued,
"Do good because you can—not because you expect reward. The moment good deeds become a transaction, they stop being good. They become a job. You'll grow to hate them."
Silence in his mind.
"You know I knew that long before you were born."
"Forget it. Give me one good reason why you didn't hand over the power right now."
"You are not yet worthy."
"That was low."
"What do you want? To walk on water?"
Raghav chuckled despite himself.
"Well… kinda."
"A person who truly knows the divine—and has seen it with their own eyes—can walk on water if their mind is calm. You need peace. Belief in yourself. Focus."
"How long will it take?"
"That depends on you. One moment—or a century. Just focus. Believe. Concentrate on the task."
"God… can't I just get bitten by a spider or something?"
"No. You need more than a good heart and a motive."
"And what's that?"
"Training."
"Great."
He took one step onto the water.
He sank immediately.
Back on shore, dripping.
"As expected. Keep trying. I'm sure you'll succeed eventually."
"And how long do you think 'eventually' will take?"
The old man replied.
" Eventually."
" Great." He said sarcastically and sank immediately