The air trembled.
Not with the force of a storm.
Not with the chaos of battle.
But with something far more unnatural.
It was subtle at first—a faint distortion, like the invisible fabric of the space around them had been pulled too tight.
The clearing itself seemed to resist, as though it recognized something that did not belong.
At the edge of it all—
The robed figure stood unmoving.
Its hand remained raised.
Still.
Controlled.
And around it—
Something shifted.
Not visible to everyone.
Not clearly.
But undeniable.
A pressure settled over the clearing.
A pull that did not drag the body—but pressed against something deeper.
Like threads tightening in unseen directions.
Duryodhana felt it.
Even if he could not fully understand it.
His instincts reacted immediately.
He stepped forward, lifting his mace, ready to strike before whatever this was could deepen further.
But before he could take another step—
Karna spoke.
"Don't rush."
The words were calm.
Even.
