On the other hand, far from the skies aflame with war, Rohan stood alone amidst the quiet northern plains, holding tightly onto Vajrastra, the legendary sword that pulsed with energy. With the skies rumbling in the distance, he closed his eyes and called out in ancient tongue—summoning the God of the Mortal Realm, Baahu.
A soft glow shimmered before him as Baahu appeared—an ageless figure, draped in robes of starlight and adorned with a crown of roots and sky-stone, embodying both earth and eternity.
Rohan stepped forward."Baahu, I must find him. Where is Avyaan?"
Baahu gazed at him deeply, then lifted his hand. Wisps of silver light spiraled around his fingers, forming a map of realms. He traced the threads with his palm, searching across dimensions. After a long silence, his expression shifted.
"He is no longer in the mortal realm," Baahu said gravely. "Avyaan left some time ago… drawn upward, beyond our skies. Toward the gates of heaven itself."
Rohan's grip on Vajrastra tightened.
"Then I must go there," he whispered.
King Sura, the radiant guardian of the heavens, hovered midair—his breath heavy, his armor scorched. His once-glorious light now flickered faintly. Svarnaastra, his sword of divine origin, pulsed weakly in his grip.
Across from him stood Asura, the Demon King, surrounded by a shroud of blazing darkness. His blade, twisted and brimming with infernal energy, crackled with power. He had not slowed. He had not weakened. With every swing, Asura seemed to grow stronger—his attacks more brutal, more precise, and increasingly fatal.
Sura raised his sword once more, deflecting another crushing blow. But his arm faltered.
Asura sneered. "You're fading, sky king. Your light cannot hold forever."
With a devastating strike, Asura sent a shockwave that hurled Sura back across the sky, crashing through a floating citadel. Clouds burst apart, divine towers crumbled, and the heavens shook.
Below, the heavenly soldiers and celestial beings paused—fear crawling into their hearts. Their king—their last pillar of hope—was faltering.
At the edges of the battle, demon forces surged with renewed rage. Empowered by Asura's growing dominance, they tore through the celestial front lines with newfound strength. Winged demons dove through the skies, spitting hellfire. Shadow beasts climbed up floating pillars, dragging angels down into the mist. Black arrows pierced through holy shields. The demons had grown stronger, crueler, deadlier.
Cries echoed across the sky.
The Sanctum of Eternity, last gate to the inner heaven, had been breached. Flames licked its gates, and demon banners rose atop its walls.
With a roar that shook the very fabric of the heavens, Asura swung his massive, hellforged blade in a wide arc, black flames trailing from its edge.
Sura, weakened and battered, raised Svarnaastra in defense—but the force of the blow was too great.
The divine sword clashed against the infernal weapon one final time before Sura was hurled backward like a comet. His body crashed into the Heavenly Pillar of Serenity, one of the ancient supports of the celestial realm. The impact cracked the pillar in half, and light exploded outward as divine runes shattered into sparks.
The shockwave rippled through the skies, and then— The Last Gate of the Celestial Realm collapsed.
Its radiant doors, once said to be unbreakable, fell open as twisted shadow breached their threshold. Demon banners rose high. The gates had fallen. Heaven had been breached.
Sura, the Heavenly King, lay unconscious, broken and bleeding, his might limp and fading, his aura dimming to near nothing. The mighty Svarnaastra slipped from his fingers, falling beside him.
A terrible silence followed. All across the skies, heavenly soldiers froze.
Their king—defeated. Their final gate—fallen.And in front of them, Asura stood tall, his armor burning with dark fire, eyes glowing with triumph, his army howling with bloodlust. The demon army surged forward like a black tide, striking with renewed fury. Their roars echoed like thunder.
The heavenly warriors, once filled with light and courage, now faltered. Their shields shook. Some stepped back. Their strength waned not from wounds, but from despair.
As the last gate of heaven fell, and King Sura lay still, a storm of anguish surged through the heavenly ranks. The skies dimmed, hope burned low—and then, through the falling light, a war cry cut through the air.
Tina.
Her eyes blazed with fury, her heart burning with grief. With sword in one hand and her divine trident in the other, she soared toward Asura like a comet of vengeance.
"You will not win!" she roared, golden light surrounding her as she struck with all her strength.
Her blade slashed toward Asura's throat. Her trident followed in a blur of lightning. The air crackled as her divine weapons collided with the shadows around the demon king.
But Asura was ready.
With a low growl, he raised his dark arm and caught her by the throat mid-flight—stopping her assault instantly. Tina gasped, her weapons still glowing, her feet dangling as Asura's grip tightened like an iron vice.
"Such fire," Asura sneered. "But even fire can be crushed."
With terrifying strength, he hurled her like a broken arrow across the sky.
Tina smashed into a shattered celestial statue, the stone splintering on impact. Blood splattered across the ground as her weapons fell from her hands. Her body crumpled among the ruins, unmoving. Unconscious.
A collective cry of horror echoed from the remaining heavenly soldiers.
One by one, angels, guardians, and celestial warriors fell to their knees—devastated, helpless as their leaders were struck down. The battlefield was now shrouded in silence, pierced only by the cruel laughter of demons.
With the gates shattered and the leaders of heaven fallen, Demon King Asura stepped through the ruins into the Celestial Realm.
Every step he took cracked the golden floor beneath him. The divine air itself recoiled, the skies turning blood-red as a wave of dark energy poured through the breach. Celestial gardens withered, crystal towers crumbled, and light that had never dimmed in eons now flickered like dying stars.
Chaos erupted everywhere.
Demons flooded through the shattered gates, howling with fury. Winged fiends, shadow beasts, and flame-born horrors surged forward, tearing through what remained of the celestial defenses. Holy structures burned, sacred rivers ran black, and cries of terror echoed across the once-untouchable skies.
The protective shield crafted by Monica, Harry, and Nitesh at their respective regions —that kept the mortal lands safe from demonic invasion… began to flicker.
"The shield… it's weakening," Monica whispered.
Across the skies of the mortal realm, dark streaks started to appear. Minor demons, sensing the weakening barrier, began forcing their way through cracks. Smoke rose in distant villages. Shadows twisted in forests. Panic returned to the faces of people who had begun to believe they were safe.
Harry, sensing the breach, looked to the sky grimly.
"They're coming through."
Nitesh regarded "If the celestial realm falls… we lose everything. We need to hold this line—no matter what."
They rallied together, renewing the barrier with all the strength they had left—but it was clear: time was running out.
Demon King Asura ascended the final steps of the Celestial Palace—the sacred heart of heaven, untouched for millennia. The grand hall, once echoing with hymns and divine light, now stood in ruin. Columns lay broken, murals scorched, and the divine flame at the center flickered weakly, as if mourning its fate. At the far end, atop a towering platform of starlight and gold, stood the Celestial Throne—a seat reserved only for the Heavenly King, woven from cosmic threads, holding the balance of realms within it. Asura stepped toward it. The air screamed. The very fabric of reality rippled with resistance. And then—he sat.
A surge of unimaginable power exploded from the throne, engulfing Asura in radiant-black fire. Lightning cracked across the heavens. A colossal shockwave thundered through all planes of existence. The throne, meant to amplify divine energy, twisted under Asura's dark essence—now warping into a throne of obsidian and flame, veins of crimson pulsing through it like a living heart.
Asura's aura shifted—from darkness to something far worse: a fusion of divinity and corruption. His power multiplied tenfold, no longer just a demon king… but something closer to a Dark God.
He threw his head back and roared.
A roar that echoed across all realm through the shattered skies of heaven, through the flickering shields of the mortal world, Down into the depths of hell itself. Mountains trembled, Oceans writhed & Stars dimmed. Creation itself shuddered. And all who heard that roar knew one truth:
The balance had been broken. The Celestial Throne had fallen into the hands of darkness.