Arin didn't sleep again after the dream.
Even after waking up, the images refused to leave him. The ancestor's face. The endless void. Vijaya glowing beneath ancient darkness. The fragmented visions of mountains, ruins, and buried places scattered across the world like pieces of something intentionally broken apart.
And above all else—
that single realization remained clear now.
Vijaya existed.
Somewhere in this world, hidden across locations he still didn't understand, the weapon was waiting.
Not whole.
Fragmented.
Scattered deliberately.
The ancestor's final words repeated constantly in the back of his mind afterward.
Find it before the cycle tightens again.
Morning arrived slowly after that, though Arin barely noticed the passing hours. The house remained quiet around him while the first traces of sunlight slipped through the windows. Normally the calmness would have helped him think more clearly, but today it only made everything heavier.
Because for the first time since all of this began—
he had nowhere left to direct his questions except toward the people who raised him.
His parents.
If his bloodline truly carried history connected to Vijaya and the cycle itself, then there was no way his family knew nothing about it. Maybe not everything. Maybe not the full truth. But enough to hide it. Enough to stay silent all these years.
And Arin was done ignoring that silence.
He stood near the kitchen doorway quietly for several seconds watching his father before speaking.
His father sat near the table repairing an old tool like he often did during quiet mornings. The movements were steady, practiced, ordinary. The kind of peaceful routine that suddenly felt strange to Arin now that he knew his family carried generations of hidden history beneath it.
His mother noticed him first.
"You're awake early."
Her voice remained gentle as always, though her expression shifted slightly the moment she saw his face properly.
Because she immediately understood something was wrong.
Arin didn't respond right away.
Instead he stepped fully into the room and looked directly at both of them.
"…we need to talk."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Not dramatically.
Subtly.
But enough.
His father stopped working immediately.
His mother's expression tightened almost invisibly.
And that alone confirmed more than Arin expected.
Neither of them asked what this was about.
Because somewhere deep down—
they already knew.
Silence filled the room for several seconds before his father finally spoke.
"…what happened."
Arin stared at him quietly.
"I met our ancestors."
The tool slipped from his father's hand.
A sharp metallic sound echoed through the room as it hit the floor.
Nobody moved afterward.
His mother looked pale instantly.
His father remained completely still.
And for the first time in his life—Arin saw genuine fear in his parents' eyes.
Not confusion.
Not disbelief.
Recognition.
"…so it finally started."
His father's voice came out quieter than usual.
Arin frowned immediately hearing that.
"You knew."
The silence afterward became answer enough.
Anger rose inside him instantly. Not explosive anger. Worse. Controlled frustration built from too many unanswered questions piling together at once.
"All this time…"
His breathing slowed slightly.
"You knew there was something connected to our family."
His father closed his eyes briefly before answering.
"…not everything."
"That's still not nothing."
His mother finally spoke softly.
"We tried to protect you."
Arin looked toward her immediately.
"From what?"
Neither of them answered right away.
And that hesitation only made the tension worse.
Finally his father stood slowly from the table before walking toward one of the older cabinets resting against the far wall of the room. He stayed silent while opening it, reaching deep inside before pulling out something wrapped carefully in dark cloth.
Arin's expression hardened slightly.
Because the moment the object appeared—
he felt it.
The same sensation from the dream.
Ancient.
Heavy.
Familiar.
His father placed it carefully onto the table before slowly unwrapping the cloth surrounding it.
Inside rested an old stone fragment no larger than a human hand.
Black.
Cracked across the center.
And carved into it—
was the exact same symbol he saw on Vijaya.
The room fell silent again immediately.
Arin stared at it without speaking.
"…what is this."
His father looked toward the fragment quietly.
"It belonged to our ancestors."
A pause.
"It's been passed through our family for generations."
Arin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And nobody thought to explain any of this?"
His father's expression darkened faintly.
"Because every generation that learned too much disappeared."
Silence.
His mother lowered her gaze slightly after those words.
"When you were born…"
Her voice trembled slightly.
"…we hoped it had ended."
Arin looked between both of them quietly.
"…ended?"
His father nodded once.
"The dreams."
Another pause.
"The memories."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Arin stared at him carefully now.
"…other people in our bloodline remembered things too."
"Yes."
That answer came instantly.
His father rested one hand against the table slowly.
"Not all of them."
Another pause.
"But enough."
The air in the room grew heavier the longer the conversation continued.
Arin's thoughts moved rapidly now, trying to piece everything together.
The bloodline.
The cycle.
Vijaya.
The ancestors.
And now this—
A history hidden deliberately across generations.
"…tell me everything."
His father stayed silent for several moments before finally nodding slowly.
"Our family was never ordinary."
The words echoed strangely through the quiet room.
"Long before kingdoms fell… before even the oldest stories survived…"
His father's gaze drifted toward the stone fragment.
"Our ancestors protected something."
Arin frowned slightly.
"The cycle?"
"No."
Another pause.
"A path against it."
Those words immediately pulled his attention fully back.
His father exhaled quietly before continuing.
"They believed the world itself had become trapped."
The morning light shifted faintly across the room as silence settled around his words.
"Lives repeating endlessly. Souls unable to truly move on."
Another pause.
"And they believed Vijaya could interfere with that cycle somehow."
Arin's chest tightened slightly hearing the weapon's name again.
"…how."
His father shook his head slowly.
"That part was lost."
Frustration flickered across Arin's expression immediately.
"Then what do we know?"
His father looked directly at him now.
"That the weapon was separated."
Silence.
"Broken apart intentionally."
Arin frowned harder.
"…why."
"Because nobody could fully control it anymore."
Another pause.
"And because something began hunting those who carried it."
The entity.
Arin immediately understood without needing the name spoken aloud.
His father continued quietly.
"So the fragments were hidden."
Another pause.
"Scattered across different locations connected to our bloodline."
The fragmented visions from the dream immediately returned to Arin's mind.
Snow-covered mountains.
Underground ruins.
The black lake beneath crimson skies.
"…the locations from my dream."
His mother's expression shifted sharply.
"You saw them?"
Arin nodded slowly.
"They're real."
His father closed his eyes briefly after hearing that.
"…then the weapon has started calling to you."
The sentence unsettled Arin more than expected.
Calling to him.
Not metaphorically.
Actually reaching toward him somehow.
Another silence followed after that.
Then Arin asked the question sitting deepest in his thoughts now.
"…what happens if I find it."
Neither of his parents answered immediately.
And that hesitation frightened him more than any answer could have.
Finally his father spoke.
"We don't know."
Arin frowned immediately.
"But we know this much…"
His father's gaze sharpened slightly.
"The fragments were never meant to be reunited easily."
The stone symbol on the table suddenly cracked faintly by itself.
Everyone froze.
A low vibration moved through the room immediately afterward.
Not physical.
Spiritual.
Arin felt it first.
Then his mother stepped back sharply.
"…it's reacting."
The crack across the stone spread wider.
And suddenly—Arin saw it.
Not with his eyes.
In his mind.
The locations from the dream appeared again all at once, but clearer now. The mountains. The ruins. The black lake. Ancient temples buried beneath forests. Endless deserts hiding broken monuments beneath the sand itself.
And through every single place—
darkness moved.
Not naturally.
Searching.
The entity wasn't waiting anymore.
It was looking for the fragments too.
Arin inhaled sharply as the vision disappeared.
"…it knows."
His father's expression darkened immediately.
"What did you see?"
Arin looked toward the cracked stone quietly.
"…the fragments aren't safe anymore."
The room fell silent again.
Because all three of them understood the implication instantly.
If the entity found Vijaya first—
whatever chance existed against the cycle would disappear with it.
But another realization settled into Arin immediately afterward.
Finding the fragments wouldn't be simple.
Even reaching them would be difficult.
The locations themselves felt wrong somehow inside the visions, distorted as though reality around the fragments had been altered over centuries. Some places looked almost unreachable entirely. Others carried pressure similar to the entity itself.
The fragments weren't merely hidden.
They were protected.
And deep down—
Arin understood something else too.
The closer he got to Vijaya…
the more memories would return.
Not only of Aditya.
Not only of Karna.
Something even older buried beneath them both.
Outside, beyond the quiet village and the sleeping forests, darkness moved silently across distant lands.
And somewhere far away beneath ancient ruins untouched for centuries—
one fragment of Vijaya pulsed faintly within the dark.