A dead silence stretched across the Heavenly Citadel.
Not the silence of peace, but the kind that coils around your neck like rope—just before it tightens.
Above, the Divine Mouths of the Council of Radiance stared down at Astha, Luv, and Naira. Their faces were masks—literally. Not human, not god, just porcelain-like visages carved with gold-lined cracks and emotionless eyes. Behind them loomed pillars of celestial judgment, glowing with inscriptions of ancient law.
"This plane does not belong to mortals," the central Voice said,
"It belongs to order."
Astha stood tall, flame dancing behind his white hair.
"Then let chaos reclaim it."
Without warning, the Council moved.
---
First Clash – The Voice Descends
The central Voice, known as Adhi-Kaal, descended from his throne, his robe fluttering like unraveling galaxies. He raised a hand, and the air condensed into light chains, binding gravity itself.
Astha raised his hand—Smritidhaara wrapped around his arm, glowing red-hot. Ashvaanta floated beside him like a faithful beast.
"You're the one who carved the laws into the bones of this plane," Astha growled.
"I read them. Then I rewrote them."
Adhi-Kaal struck.
The blow wasn't physical.
Reality folded around Astha. Up became down. Time stuttered. Luv and Naira vanished from view—separated by a divine domain crafted from law itself.
Inside, Astha stood alone with Adhi-Kaal.
"You will burn for what you did in the lower temples," the Voice hissed.
"For unshackling what should remain forgotten."
Ashvaanta flared to life, reacting to the words.
"I've only just begun," Astha replied, and launched forward.
---
Domain of Verdicts
Adhi-Kaal's divine domain was a prison of floating platforms, each inscribed with a law of creation: gravity, time, thought, memory, fate.
And he could wield them all.
He spoke the word "Fall"—and gravity increased a hundredfold.
Astha's knees buckled—but Smritidhaara anchored him, wrapping around a law-sigil and burning it away.
"You shouldn't be able to do that," Adhi-Kaal muttered.
"I don't play by the same laws anymore," Astha replied.
"I remember what you erased."
He slashed downward. Ashvaanta didn't just cut—it denied the existence of one of the law-runes. A platform shattered.
Adhi-Kaal snarled and released a torrent of binding scripture, symbols glowing in gold and judgment.
Astha stood tall.
His flames surged higher, forming wings of ash and crimson memory behind him.
And with a roar, he shattered the laws one by one.
---
In another chamber of the Citadel, Luv had been pulled into a mirrored dome—face to face with a storm-colored being.
It was shaped like him.
But divine.
This was Vajranabh, the thunderborne avatar. A vessel of Indra's wrath, created to punish any who would steal his lightning.
"You wear my skin," Vajranabh said.
"But you were never worthy of my name."
Luv grinned.
"Good. I've been meaning to change the meaning of that name anyway."
The battle began with a sonic boom that cracked open the sky outside. Lightning roared in rivers. Storms curled into fists.
Luv bled from the nose, the ears—but he never stopped smiling.
His armor shifted—Indra's silver hide blooming in radiant arcs.
He wasn't just enduring thunder.
He was becoming it.
---
Naira stood alone in a shrine chamber.
An ancient bell rang.
From the walls descended mural after mural—depicting a woman in Garuda armor... and a child wrapped in wing-like silks.
"That's... my mother," she whispered.
A golden specter stepped from the mural.
"You are the last of the Asravinari," it said.
"Half-divine, born to end the war no one remembers."
"What war?"
"The one between remembrance and silence. The one Astha is about to reignite."
And then the blade in her hand—the Blade of Compassion—began to glow, opening new seals etched beneath its hilt. Not just a blade of mercy…
But one forged from the first scream of creation.
---
Return to the Lawbreaker
Astha had broken four laws.
The fifth—Memory—stood stubborn.
Adhi-Kaal floated above the last seal, his arms bleeding divine ink.
"If you break this, you destroy everything that anchors you," he warned.
"Even your brother's name could vanish from the records of fate."
Astha looked down.
And smiled.
"Then I'll write my own records."
He launched Ashvaanta one final time. It struck the last platform.
And the Memory Law shattered—
revealing a void where erased souls screamed in joy.
Adhi-Kaal disintegrated, turned into ash and forgotten light.
Astha floated alone in the crumbling domain, his eyes glowing silver-blue.
"No more chains," he said.
And the void whispered back:
"No more silence."