The moment the thought formed in his mind—Ability Suppression—the floating panel before Arivaan burst into a brilliant wash of azure light. It shimmered like moonlight on sacred water, its surface rippling with symbols that seemed both ancient and alive. For an instant the glow was almost blinding, illuminating the cracked stone chamber and the drifting dust in the air.
A soft chime resonated, though no sound truly touched the outside world. It rang only within Arivaan's mind, delicate and distant, like the tolling of a temple bell carried by the wind across a quiet valley.
Command Activated.
The words appeared across the luminous panel, sharp and unmistakable, before slowly dimming and slipping toward the edge of his vision as if awaiting further instruction. At the same time, Arivaan felt something subtle shift inside him—like an invisible mechanism sliding into place. A quiet warmth spread through his body, settling deep in his chest and pulsing with calm certainty.
Something had changed.
Something obeyed him now.
Devika remained completely unaware of the silent command that had just been issued.
With the ease of long practice, she snapped her fingers.
Normally, the result was instantaneous. A spark would leap to life between her fingertips—a tiny ember that would bloom into roaring flame at her command. It was her signature technique, one that had terrified enemies and turned the tide of battles across the lands of Aryavarta.
But this time—
Nothing.
The air remained stubbornly still. No warmth. No flicker. Not even the faintest crackle of heat.
Her hand remained raised for a moment longer, suspended mid-gesture as if the fire were merely late in answering. She waited for the familiar tingling sensation that always preceded ignition.
It never came.
Her expression slowly stiffened, confusion creeping across her usually confident features. For the first time since Arivaan had known her, the composure of the proud Rakshak warrior cracked.
"…What?"
The word slipped from her lips in a quiet murmur.
She stared at her hand as though it had betrayed her.
Flexing her fingers slowly, she tried again to summon the surge of power that had always come as naturally as breathing. Years of relentless training had made her mastery over Agni Shakti second nature. Under the watchful guidance of the Rakshak elders, she had learned to command flame as if it were an extension of her own soul.
Fire had always answered her.
It was her ally. Her weapon.
Her identity.
A memory flashed across her mind—her first awakening. A village festival years ago, when uncontrolled flames had burst from her hands and nearly burned her home to the ground. Panic, shouting villagers, and then the arrival of the Rakshak elders who recognized the divine spark within her. They had taken her away to train, to refine that dangerous gift into a weapon worthy of protecting Aryavarta.
Since that day, the fire had never once abandoned her.
Until now.
Devika tried again.
This time her voice carried the authority of command.
"Flame ignition."
She focused deeply, reaching inward for the familiar reservoir of burning energy she knew resided within her. She could feel it there—restless, volatile, eager to burst free.
Yet when she opened her palm—
It remained empty.
Cool.
Silent.
No warmth spread across her skin. No glow pierced the darkness. Not even a lonely spark dared appear.
Her fingers curled slowly into a tight fist.
Frustration began rising inside her like a storm.
She paced several steps across the cracked stone floor, boots crunching against debris as she forced herself to focus. Perhaps the explosion earlier had disrupted her control. Perhaps exhaustion was interfering.
She closed her eyes and recalled past battles.
The flames she unleashed against raiders near the banks of the River Yamuna.
The towering wall of fire that had once shielded her squad from a deadly ambush.
Each memory should have rekindled the spark.
But here, inside this cursed ruin, only silence answered her efforts.
Devika frowned deeply, her brows knitting together.
She turned her hand over, studying it beneath the faint shafts of light filtering through cracks in the ceiling. Her skin bore the marks of long combat—calluses from gripping swords and weaving flame constructs during endless training drills.
But nothing about her hand seemed wrong.
"That's impossible…" she whispered.
The words were meant for herself, but the disbelief in them was unmistakable.
Her flames had obeyed her will for more than a decade. Ever since her Divya Ability awakened during her initiation ceremony at the age of fifteen, the power had been inseparable from her existence.
It was as essential as the air filling her lungs.
Now—
There was nothing.
A small flicker of unease appeared in her eyes.
Had the earlier explosion drained her reserves?
Or was this ancient temple somehow interfering with divine abilities?
Perhaps the relic they had disturbed carried a curse that suppressed power.
Her mind raced through possibilities, but none of them fully explained the eerie emptiness she now felt.
Panic threatened to surface.
But Devika was a Rakshak.
Years of discipline crushed the emotion before it could show.
Even so—
Arivaan saw it.
And slowly… he began to smile.
At first it was only the faintest curve at the corner of his lips. But as the realization settled within him, that smile grew steadier, more confident.
The panel still hovered faintly at the edge of his sight.
The power inside him hummed quietly, like a secret waiting to be explored.
"Looks like something's wrong," he said casually, pushing himself to his feet.
The pain from the earlier explosion still lingered in his body, but it felt distant now, overshadowed by the strange thrill coursing through him. His heart beat faster, not from fear—but from possibility.
For the first time in his life, Arivaan felt as though he held control.
He glanced briefly toward the floating panel again. The symbols upon it seemed sharper now, clearer—as if the system itself were learning from his intentions.
Devika's head snapped toward him instantly.
Her gaze hardened into a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
She stepped closer, boots scraping across the broken floor.
"You did something."
Her voice was low and dangerous.
Even without her flames, Devika was far from helpless. As a Rakshak warrior of noble lineage, she had mastered far more than just her divine ability. Hand-to-hand combat, archery, battlefield tactics—she had been trained since youth to fight and survive.
She began circling him slowly, eyes scanning their surroundings.
Evaluating escape routes.
Potential weapons among the rubble.
Anything she could use if necessary.
"Me?" Arivaan shrugged lightly, dusting off his torn tunic.
The fabric hung in ragged strips from the explosion, exposing parts of his lean, battle-hardened frame. He lacked Devika's sculpted strength, but years as a soldier had carved endurance into his muscles.
"I'm just a powerless soldier," he added with exaggerated innocence. "How could I possibly affect someone like you?"
A trace of irony slipped into his voice despite his efforts.
Inside, he was still marveling at the shift in circumstances.
All his life he had stood behind heroes like Devika—supporting them, assisting them, acting as little more than expendable backup.
But now…
Now he might be something more.
Devika's frustration boiled over.
She stepped forward suddenly.
"Don't lie to me, Arivaan. I've seen enough cursed tricks in ruins like this to recognize when something's wrong."
Her mind churned rapidly.
A curse from the jewel they had found earlier?
A hidden trap embedded in the chamber?
Yet her instincts kept drifting back to the man standing before her.
The quiet soldier who had always existed in the shadows of greater warriors.
Without warning, she lunged forward.
Her fist shot toward him in a quick feint—testing his reaction.
Even stripped of her flames, Devika remained a formidable fighter.
In the same motion she pivoted and launched a swift kick aimed directly at his midsection, precise and controlled. She intended to subdue him, not kill him—but the force behind the strike was still considerable.
THUD!
The blow landed squarely.
Arivaan was sent rolling across the stone floor in a messy tumble of limbs and dust. Pain exploded through his ribs like the impact of a heavy mace.
"Ugh—!"
The air blasted from his lungs as he crashed against a fallen pillar.
For a moment his vision swam with stars.
Devika's strength was no joke. Even without her divine ability, the physical training of a Rakshak warrior could break bones.
Coughing through the dust, Arivaan pushed himself up slowly, clutching his aching ribs.
Each breath stabbed painfully into his side.
Devika approached immediately, her movements calm and purposeful.
Predatory.
She reached down and seized the collar of his tunic, hauling him partly upright with iron strength.
"If my power doesn't work," she growled, her face inches from his, "then I'll drag you out of here myself."
Sweat glistened on her forehead, not from exertion—but from the growing unease she was trying desperately to suppress.
Arivaan winced as he struggled to stand.
His mind raced.
The pain reminded him just how vulnerable he still was.
But the glowing panel hovered quietly at the edge of his sight—like a silent promise.
One phrase pulsed upon it.
Body Control
The words beckoned him.
If Ability Suppression had worked…
Then what else could this mysterious power do?
Without speaking, he focused on the command. The intent slipped from his thoughts like a whispered incantation.
Devika's fingers tightened around his arm—
And the panel flared again.
Its light intensified sharply.
Command Activated.
Though no sound echoed aloud, Arivaan felt the activation ripple through the chamber like a wave of invisible force.
The air suddenly felt thicker.
Charged.
Alive.
A strange metallic taste lingered at the back of his throat as unseen energy spread outward, distorting the space around them like heat shimmering over desert sand.
Devika took another step forward—
And then stopped.
Completely.
Her body froze mid-motion.
Her outstretched hand hung suspended in the air, fingers spread as if grasping something that no longer existed.
The chamber fell into a tense, suffocating silence.
Only the sound of their ragged breathing remained.