In a sleek, glass-walled skyscraper in New York City, the United Sentinel Squad (USS) commander, General Blake Harding, leans back in his chair, reading the council summons on a holographic display. His sharp eyes narrow as he absorbs the message.
General Harding (to his aide):
Dharma Pratap's heir? This has to be a bluff. That man was a legend—a ghost. If his bloodline truly remains, it changes everything.
Aide (nervously):
Should we prepare for deployment, sir?
General Harding (smirking):
Absolutely. If this heir is half the man Dharma was, we can't afford to underestimate him. Send a contingent to the council. Let's see if this boy is a pretender or the real deal.
In the snowy outskirts of Moscow, General Viktor Petrov, the stoic leader of the Russian Sentinel Squad, stands in a dimly lit war room. His expression remains cold as he reviews the summons.
General Petrov (gruffly):
So, the heir returns…
In a quiet dojo stands Suzuki, overlooking his men training. He reviews the message with an inscrutable expression, his katana resting beside him.
Suzuki (quietly):
Dharma Pratap… You cast a long shadow, even in death. If your heir is anything like you, the world will shift once more.
In a sprawling command center in Beijing, the Chinese Sentinel Squad commander, General Liang Wei, slams his fist on the table as he reads the summons.
General Liang (angrily):
How dare they summon us for this farce? Dharma Pratap's name is a relic of the past!
Subordinate:
Even so, General, if the council is assembling, we cannot ignore it.
General Liang (reluctantly):
Fine. Send representatives. But make it clear—China will not bow to ghosts.
Across the globe, sentinel squads receive the summons with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. In Europe, Africa, and South America, leaders convene hurried meetings, speculating about the return of Dharma's legacy.
The camera pans over the Himalayan mountains, zooming back into the monastery. Inside, Aditya and his companions prepare for the weight of the council's expectations hanging over them.
The camera opens inside the Council of Sentinels. A golden chandelier casts a brilliant glow over the gathering of the most powerful leaders, warriors, and strategists from across the globe. Around the chamber, representatives of sentinel squads from every major nation are seated in their designated areas. Their murmurs echo throughout the hall, a cacophony of curiosity, doubt, and anger.
Russian Representative (gruffly):
Even if he exists, a boy cannot inherit a god's legacy. This is a waste of time.
Japanese Delegate (calmly):
I suggest we listen first. The past has a way of returning when you least expect it.
Chinese Representative (mockingly):
Listen? To a fairy tale? If Dharma Pratap's heir is real, he should already be here to face us.
The murmurs grow louder as the leaders bicker among themselves, their voices clashing like thunder in the grand chamber.
At the center of the hall, a figure stands tired and confused. The General Chancellor, an older man with sharp features and a commanding presence, raises his hands for silence. Despite his authority, the leaders continue to argue, their voices escalating.
General Chancellor (sternly):
Order! I demand order in this council!
The noise subsides briefly, but a fiery American representative rises to speak, his tone sharp and accusing.
American Representative:
We've been called here under the pretence of Dharma Pratap's heir returning, yet there's no sign of them! This council should not have been convened for baseless rumours?
Loyalists to Dharma rise in defense, their voices ringing out with fervor.
African Leader:
Dharma Pratap's legacy brought peace to a world on the brink of collapse! Show some respect, or you dishonor the very council you sit in!
European Delegate (calmly):
I, for one, believe we should hear them out. If this heir is real, it could change the balance of power forever.
Russian Representative (gruffly):
Balance of power? This is a child's story. I say we adjourn.
In a corner of the hall, Suzuki watches the chaos unfold. His hands rest lightly on the hilt of his katana as his sharp eyes scan the room. Unlike the others, he does not join the debate, instead observing the leaders tear each other apart with words.
Shinzo (muttering to himself):
Fools. They let their tongues run faster than their minds.
For a moment, his gaze softens as the memory of Dharma Pratap flickers in his mind. The mere mention of Dharma's name stirs something within him—a distant respect laced with caution.
The arguing reaches a peak as a British delegate rises abruptly, gathering his things with a scowl.
British Delegate:
This is a waste of time! This so-called heir is nothing but a myth. If they had any proof, they would have shown it by now. I refuse to waste another moment here.
As he turns to leave, a sudden voice echoes through the hall, silencing the crowd instantly.
Aditya (calm and commanding):
That won't be necessary.
All heads turn toward the massive double doors at the far end of the hall. They swing open, and a gust of wind sweeps through the chamber. Aditya Pratap steps inside, his presence radiating authority. The Sword of Creation rests at his waist, glowing faintly with a golden aura. Beside him walks Jigen Shang.
On Aditya's right stand Harshit, Rashi, and Shivam
On Aditya's left are Steve, Ashvin, and Ajay.
Gasps ripple through the chamber as the leaders take in the sight of Aditya and his companions. The sheer presence of the group silences even the most vocal dissenters.
American Representative (whispering):
That sword… It's real.
Russian Representative (gritting his teeth):
He has the look of Dharma, but can he wield that power?
French Representative (narrowing his eyes):
Showmanship. Let's see if he has the substance to match.
As Aditya walks toward the podium, Suzuki Shinzo's eyes widen slightly. For a moment, he sees not Aditya, but Dharma Pratap himself, walking with the same confidence and purpose. Shinzo's hand tightens on his katana, and he finds himself holding his breath.
Shinzo (to himself):
Dharma… Is this truly you? Or is the cosmos playing tricks on us?
The camera follows Aditya as he ascends the podium, the Sword oat his side. He scans the room, his gaze steady and unflinching. The council sits in stunned silence, waiting for him to speak.
The camera focuses on Jigen Shang, walking to the podium in the center of the council chamber. His presence commands silence, his calm yet authoritative demeanor forcing the murmuring leaders to fall quiet.
Jigen Shang (calmly):
Twenty years ago, the great Dharma Pratap left this world. In his absence, what he built—his peace, his strategies, his unity—has crumbled into chaos. By hands both seen and unseen, this council has been reduced to bickering factions, and the ascendants, once protectors of this world, have turned into tools for power-hungry opportunists.
Jigen (sternly):
But let us not dwell on what was lost. Let us learn from it. Dharma Pratap taught us that unity, tempered with wisdom and strength, is the key. And today, I stand before you with a message of hope.
The room grows tense as he pauses, his next words reverberating like thunder.
Jigen (raising his voice):
Dharma Pratap's heir has returned! The bloodline of the man who united the world under one flag, who brought balance to chaos, lives on. And his successor is here, ready to guide us to a new era.
Gasps ripple through the chamber. Some leaders look skeptical, while others exchange uneasy glances. Jigen steps aside, gesturing toward Aditya, who stands hesitantly with his team.
Jigen :
Aditya Pratap, step forward.
Aditya remains frozen for a moment, his heart pounding as the weight of the council's gaze presses on him. Steve, standing beside him, places a firm hand on his shoulder.
Steve (calmly):
show them why Dharma's blood runs through your veins.
Aditya exhales deeply, tightening his grip on the Sword of Creation. With a nod to Steve and his friends, he steps forward, ascending the podium.
Aditya (opening firmly):
My name is Aditya Pratap. Until recently, I knew nothing of my grandfather's legacy, or the immense responsibility tied to his name. I was just a normal person, living in a world that I thought was ordinary. But fate… fate had other plans.
Aditya:
I stand before you not as a ruler, not as a conqueror, but as someone who has inherited a mantle far heavier than I ever imagined. My grandfather, Dharma Pratap, built a legacy of peace, unity, and strength. But when he fell, the world turned to chaos and those who should have protected the innocent betrayed them .
Aditya:
I will not let his name fade into obscurity. I will not let his sacrifices be in vain. Under my leadership, the Indian Sentinel Squad will rise again. We will reclaim the honor that was lost. Together, we will rewrite fate and carve a new destiny—one where peace prevails and justice reigns!
American Representative:
Bold words for someone who has only just stepped into the spotlight. What proof do we have that you're capable of leading? Your grandfather was a legend—you're just a boy with a sword!
Chinese Representative (mocking):
Peace and justice? Empty ideals! This council has no room for dreamers.
Vietnamese Representative :
And what about the super squads? Do you think mere words will bring them to their knees? They've held power for decades while your squad fell apart!
Aditya raises his voice booming like thunder.
Aditya:
Enough! I don't need your approval to act. The Indian Sentinel Squad will rise under my leadership, whether you support us or not. And to prove our resolve, I'm making this declaration now: under the Sovereigns, we are declaring war on the Sentinels of Revolution!
Gasps and murmurs ripple through the chamber as Aditya's words sink in.
Aditya (firmly):
Vikram's betrayal during my grandfather's death was unforgivable. His actions have caused untold suffering and chaos. We will crush him without mercy. This is not just about vengeance—it's about restoring balance and ensuring that no one else dares to exploit chaos for their gain.
Aditya's gaze hardens as he delivers his closing statement.
Aditya:
I will not falter. I will not waver. The Sovereigns will lead the charge, and we will bring this world as Dharma envisioned. Mark my words—fate will be rewritten, and destiny will bow to us.
Aditya steps back, his team forming a protective line around him. The room is left in stunned silence as they exit the hall together, their presence leaving an indelible mark.