Thunder rumbled across the valley of Devyasthana as both armies assembled beneath the shadow of the Institute's spires. The earth trembled with every howl from the corrupted, every thud of the Veil-Walker's movements high above. Rudra's thoughts raced as he checked his gear—an old cricket bat enchanted by Aarav, a satchel of incense from Priya's mother, and the pendant still pulsing with the energy of another world.
He tried to steady his breath. His mind drifted back to memories of Mumbai's humid nights, alley cricket matches, the distant clang of steel as the local train rattled past his childhood home. He longed for those mundane worries—a failed math test, a scraped knee. But the world had changed. He had changed.
A voice pulled him out of reverie. "You alright, bhai?" Bunty asked, his new, golden eyes soft with concern. "You look like you're about to puke."
Rudra gave a low chuckle. "Just trying not to think about what happens if this goes wrong."
Bunty grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've got this, Rudra. Besides, Roohi would fry any asura that even looks at you funny."
Roohi was nearby, tightening the straps on her vambraces. Her eyes caught his; she offered a small, reassuring nod. "No one's dying today. Especially not you."
On the ridges above, Professor Aarav's voice boomed out in a magically-projected rallying cry. "Defenders of Chakravyuh, this is our *Mahasamar*! Hold the line. Protect our future!"
Hundreds of voices shouted back, echoing like thunder through the valley. "Chakravyuham Rakshatu!"
Jessica passed each of them an amulet inscribed with Sanskrit runes. "If you're separated, crush this. It'll get a message to me and Roohi."
Footsteps hurried up behind them—MG, his face still bearing the pinkish scar but his demeanor determined, handed out a last-minute supply: a bundle of neem leaves, "For anti-curse protection," he explained, and a flask of what he called "Gujjari Power Potion."
"You're coming with us?" Rudra asked.
MG gave a wry smile. "Someone has to keep you out of trouble, hero. Besides, I still owe you for the whole cellar incident."
From the western edge, the Red Council's horns sounded—a chorus of deep, shuddering blasts. Yakshini herself floated into view above her army, draped in a sari the color of fresh blood. She carried a sceptre carved from the bone of a rakshasa king, and when she spoke, her words vibrated in Rudra's bones.
"This world is tired. The age of little gods is over. Today, power returns to its rightful keepers! Bring me the celestial child!"
The corrupted surged forward—hideous, hybrid creatures twisted by magic and hunger. Spectral nagas slithered through their ranks, and astral jinn shimmered at the flanks. Above all, the Veil-Walker's form bent the clouds, the ancient rift glowing like a wound.
Rudra glanced at Roohi, Jessica, Bunty, MG—his allies, his friends. They formed their own circle, hands touching, power flowing.
"Ready?" Roohi whispered.
"Let's end this," Rudra replied.
The charge began. Mystic defenders surged forward—Amrita from Jaipur hurled spears of fire, Iqbal from Hyderabad chanted a protective shield, and old Dr. Vasishtha from Varanasi levitated a dozen boulders to crush corrupted charging the lines.
Rudra's world shrank to the sounds immediately around him. Metal rang against claws. Bunty tackled a corrupted asura, shifting partway into his wishwolf form. Roohi caught a naga in mid-strike, pinning it to the ground with her mind. Jessica drew sigils in the air, her hands painting blue flames that burned through shadowy forms. MG lobbed a flask of potion, which exploded into a cloud of spicy fumes, choking several corrupted.
Still, the enemy pressed closer. Yakshini remained above it all, her eyes locked on Rudra. "Come here, child of gods! Face your destiny!"
Rudra pressed the pendant to his chest and whispered the invocation Savitri had shown him in the vision. "Aum Namo Jyotirgamaya." Light burst forth, cutting a path through the swarm, his friends fighting fiercely at his sides.
Suddenly, the ground burst open before them—dozens of corrupted emerging from hidden tunnels. The group was separated. Jessica and MG were dragged away, shouted curses and cries for help echoing back. Bunty snarled, his eyes wild. "Go, Rudra! We'll hold them off!"
"No—together!" Rudra tried to reach out, but Roohi was already dragging him forward, toward the glowing rift where Veil-Walker's shadow seethed.
"You have one job!" Roohi yelled over the tumult. "Get to the breach! You're the only one who can close it."
They sprinted through the chaos—dodging blinding spells, sidestepping the wounded, and leaping over smoldering wreckage. Rudra's lungs burned. He risked a glance behind: Bunty, outnumbered but unyielding, fought back-to-back with MG. Jessica, rising on a pillar of blue light, was casting runes at Yakshini herself.
In that moment, time slowed. Rudra saw his friends' faces—sweat, blood, hope, and steel in their eyes. For the first time, he understood that leadership meant trusting others to fight their own battles while keeping faith that they would survive.
He and Roohi reached the lip of the ravaged Institute grounds. The rift boiled with sapphire light, and the Veil-Walker twisted, a thousand eyes opening along its formless body.
Yakshini descended, landing between Rudra and the breach, her dark fire licking the ruined earth. "It ends here, boy. Surrender, or not even your divine blood will save you."
Roohi stepped in front of Rudra, arms raised, telekinetic force rippling outward. "If you want him, you'll have to go through me first, witch."
Yakshini sneered and unleashed a spell that cracked the ground open. Roohi screamed, forced to her knees by the pressure of Yakshini's magic.
Rudra's heart thundered. He knelt beside Roohi, clutching the pendant. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I am done running."
He rose, the pendant's light blazing, ready for the final confrontation.
Overhead, the Veil-Walker lunged, claws reaching for the breach and for Rudra both—while the armies below clashed and the fate of two worlds.