> "The chains that bind us are forged not by iron, but by the choices we cannot escape."
Aarav's fingers trembled around the scroll.
It was old—far older than anything that should have survived the centuries—and yet the seal on it glowed with a pulse that throbbed in time with his heartbeat. The insignia was unmistakable: The Keepers. The very name made his blood simmer.
He broke the seal.
The scroll unfurled with a whisper that sounded like a scream swallowed by time. Ancient Sanskrit and forgotten dialects shimmered in ink that pulsed like veins. As his eyes scanned it, his vision flickered—memories that weren't his flashing like lightning through his mind.
Chains. So many chains.
Wrapped around divine beasts. Coiling around fallen warriors. Weaving through the souls of gods themselves.
And at the center of it all—
A boy.
No, not a boy. A prisoner.
Locked beneath the Ashvattha tree. Bleeding. Burning. Remembering.
Aarav staggered back, clutching his head as the visions receded. The scroll rolled itself up and disintegrated into ash, as if its message was meant to be read only once.
"What did you see?" Navya's voice was quiet but sharp.
"The truth," Aarav replied, voice low. "The Keepers… they're not just running the tournament. They're protecting something. Or someone. And I think I just saw it."
Navya's expression darkened. "You mean the one beneath the roots?"
He looked at her sharply. "You knew?"
"I've heard rumors. Stories whispered in ruins and by survivors of forbidden rounds. A divine child sealed in chains older than gods. A soul that once shattered reality."
Aarav's pulse thundered. "Then that means this isn't just a tournament. It's a containment ritual."
Navya nodded. "Every hundred years. A new ring of warriors. A new cycle of sacrifice. The winner isn't given power—they become the next link in the Keeper's Chains."
The words hung like smoke.
And suddenly, it all made sense. The trials. The contracts. The relentless manipulation. Aarav remembered Arin's broken body. Vedika's tear-streaked goodbye. The Vanara King's warning.
It was never about power.
It was about who could bear the burden.
Navya approached him, her Divine Mark glowing like molten sapphire. "We're nearing the quarterfinals. If you win, you'll be offered a choice. They'll call it ascension. But it's not. It's servitude. You'll become a chain. You'll be chained to the Keeper's will."
Aarav clenched his fists.
"Then I won't let them offer me the choice."
"You'll have to win," Navya whispered. "And then… break the cycle."
A silence passed between them—thick with fear, rage, and something else. Resolve.
Just then, the horn blared.
A signal.
The quarterfinal matchups were posted.
Aarav walked toward the scroll board, eyes scanning the glowing names.
Aarav Sen vs. Sarva, The Chain-Breaker.
He stared at the name.
His breath caught in his throat.
Sarva.
That name wasn't on any list. Not in the bracket. Not even in the pool of fighters.
Navya gasped. "Impossible."
Aarav turned. "Who is he?"
She swallowed. "Not who. What. Sarva isn't a competitor. He's a Keeper."
And now… he was Aarav's next opponent.
---