4:00 AM.
The world was silent in a way that felt unnatural.
Divyanshi stood near the small window of the hut, her eye pressed to the thin crack in the wooden frame. Cold air brushed her skin, but she didn't move. Her heart was beating slowly, carefully, as if it already knew something was wrong.
Outside, Shambhala was surrounded.
Military trucks stood at every entrance of the village, their dark metal bodies blocking all escape routes. Red and blue lights blinked silently. Above them, huge shadows floated in the sky—spaceships from Pandora, the capital planet of humans. They hovered like gods watching insects.
All weapons were aimed inward.
At the village.
At its own people.
Humans and cyborgs lived there together. Survivors. Traders. Modified bodies and broken souls trying to live one more day. None of them knew what was about to happen.
Divyanshi's hands trembled.
For the past 2–3 years, the village had never allowed her and her grandmother inside.
They lived outside the walls, farming, cutting wood for fire, growing their own food. They never stole. Never harmed anyone. And yet they were called cursed.
Around their hut, plants still grew green and alive.
Inside the village, everything was metal and blood.
Maybe… she was never the curse.
Maybe she was the proof that life could still be pure.
4:05AM.
The sky exploded.
Gunfire shattered the silence. Missiles streaked down like burning comets. The ground shook as buildings collapsed in fire and steel. The screams of families were drowned by the roar of engines and energy weapons.
Inside the hut, Vashu and Shiva jolted awake.
"What was that?!" Shiva shouted.
Another blast hit. The walls trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Vashu grabbed his arm. "Shiva… the sky…"
They rushed to the door.
Outside, Shambhala was burning.
Cyborg soldiers tried to retreat, their metal bodies glowing under the flames. Some fired back. Some ran. Some froze. A missile struck near the center of the village, turning everything into white fire.
In seconds, the fighting stopped.
There was nothing left to fight.
The village was erased.
Only a few villagers who had gone outside for work survived. Everyone else… was gone.
Shiva fell to his knees.
"They killed them… all of them…"
Divyanshi said nothing. Her face was pale, her eyes dry. She had seen it coming. That was the worst part.
The so-called curse was never her.
The curse was Pandora.
The curse was humanity itself.
Morning came like a lie.
Sunlight filtered through the smoke and ash. The village was no longer alive. Only ruins remained. Metal bodies, broken homes, and silence.
Vashu walked slowly. "Why would they do this?"
Divyanshi answered quietly,
"To clean the land. To erase witnesses. To control the organ trade."
Shiva clenched his teeth. "This isn't justice. This is slaughter."
Divyanshi led them back to her hut.
"This place is safer. They won't care about it. We were never part of their world."
Inside, she brought water and dried grains. They ate without speaking. Food tasted different after watching death.
After a while, Shiva whispered,
"We can't stay children in this world."
Divyanshi looked at him.
"You're right. This world doesn't allow it."
Vashu added softly,
"Then we stay together. No matter what."
Shiva nodded.
"Three are harder to erase than one."
Divyanshi felt something rise in her chest—not fear, not pain.
Resolve.
Outside, Shambhala was dead.
Inside the hut, something dangerous was born.
Not hope.
Not innocence.
Survival with purpose.
And somewhere far above, on Pandora, humans would never know that three children had just become their greatest mistake.