Martial law had turned the floating city into a beautiful coffin.
After 8 PM, silence reigned. Gone were the buzzing streets, glowing signs reflected in bustling crowds, and laughter spilling from shopfronts. In their place: cold neon lights blinking over empty roads. Patrol drones hummed above, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts in the alleys.
The press was gone. The curfew was law. And the people — even the wealthy — no longer questioned it. Inside the Dominion Palace, rage echoed louder than any parade.
Commander Navek Vyer stood beneath the twin banners of war, perched atop the grand stairs of the throne chamber. His golden lion throne glistened under flickering torches, but he did not sit. His aura swelled, boiling the air.
A trembling minister delivered news with shaking parchment in his hands.
"Supreme Commander... the northeast mining shaft has collapsed. Fifty-two dead. Thirty still missing. All extraction halted—" The Commander's glare cut him off.
Then, before anyone could move, a crushing pressure filled the hall. The minister gasped, clutched his throat. His skin flushed red, bubbled—then melted into a puddle of boiling flesh and bone. Gasps erupted.
"Clean this filth up," Vyer growled. "And restart that mine." No one dared speak.
No one even breathed. The secret behind his obsession still remained buried, but his urgency was turning into madness.
Meanwhile, down in the underground rebellion bunker, things were unraveling in a different way.
It had been one week. Shivam still hadn't woken up. But something had changed.
A sharp pulse of energy had emerged from the med bay. The glow of Noctirum had spread across Shivam's chest and shoulders like armor etched into skin. Thin cracks of light pulsed down his arms like lightning trapped beneath flesh.
The rebels stood back, some in awe, others in fear.
"He's... transforming," one whispered.
"Or being consumed," said another. In the corridor outside, tensions boiled over. Aman slammed his fist into the wall.
"This is her fault," he snapped. "All of it. If we'd never met her—"
"Aman—" Naina began, but he turned on her.
"He's in there because of her! That damn princess—"
"She saved us once," Naina said firmly. "And you know it. We don't even know if she's the one behind this."
"She's Dominion," Dikshant growled. "That's all we need to know."
"And she has Noctirum powers," Aanchal added. "If she did betray us, we won't get another chance."
Naina looked at the three of them — her team, her family — and saw the steeled resolve in their eyes. She swallowed hard.
"Don't do anything stupid." But they were already gone.
As their footsteps faded, Naina lingered alone in the corridor, heart pounding. The med bay still pulsed with faint orange light behind her — Shivam's body glowing like a quiet storm. She turned away, guilt and worry clouding her thoughts.
Then, faint voices. Muffled but urgent. Coming from deeper in the hall.
She followed them quietly, rounding a corner to find two rebellion medics — white coats, frayed and dirt-stained — slipping into one of the auxiliary rooms marked Bio-Energy Storage. The door didn't close all the way. Naina crept closer, just out of sight, pressing her back to the cold wall. She barely breathed.
Inside, the voices crackled with tension.
"What is with this boy?" one whispered. "Noctirum doesn't behave like this. It's reacting… violently. Or worse — it's bonding."
"With his body," another added. "Like it's found something familiar. Or something it's been waiting for."
A sharp intake of breath. A chair scraped the floor.
"I'm telling you, if this continues, he could slip deeper into this trance. Possibly forever. He might need a jumpstart. From another Noctirum user."
Naina's eyes widened. A jumpstart? She thought of Adhivita. Of the way the aura responded to her touch. Was that what the Sage had meant?
"But that's not the real issue," one of them said, lowering their voice.
Naina leaned in.
"These kids… they're anomalies. The Noctirum shouldn't react to them like this at all. It's like their bodies aren't calibrated for this world."
A pause.
"They might've crossed some kind of space-time bridge to get here."
Naina's breath caught.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. What are you saying? she wanted to scream. That they're not supposed to be here? That this world… isn't even their own?
The door creaked. She jumped back and fled down the corridor before they emerged.
Everything spun. Her head, her thoughts, her trust. She knew what Aman, Aanchal, and Dikshant were planning. Their anger was boiling over. But if what she'd just heard was true — if Shivam really needed Adhivita to survive — then this wasn't just about revenge.
It was about saving him.
She didn't wait. She ran.
Commander Vidhart stood over a tactical map when Naina burst into the operations room, eyes wild, breath ragged.
"I need your help," she said.
He turned slowly, frowning. "What happened?"
"Aman, Aanchal, and Dikshant — they're going after Adhivita. Alone."
His expression darkened.
"She might be the only one who can save Shivam," Naina continued. "And there's more. The medics… they said Shivam isn't just unconscious. He's trapped.
Silence. Even Vidhart looked shaken.
"We need her," Naina said. "And if they hurt her, Shivam might never wake up."
Vidhart didn't hesitate. "Get your gear. We move now."
Two days later, in the bustling side markets near Sector 6, the three of them saw it: a royal carriage, black with silver plating, bearing the Dominion crest and surrounded by cloaked guards. Inside: Adhivita. And beside her, a man none of them recognized — old, silver-bearded, wise-eyed. Agastya Ved Rao. They didn't know his name. But they saw opportunity.
"We end this," Aman muttered.
The ambush was quick and clean. A trail of sharpened nails scattered near a tight curve. The front left wheel snapped instantly, dragging the entire carriage to a lurching halt in a narrow alley. The driver leapt out, eyes scanning. He never saw Dikshant behind him.
The blow knocked him cold. Within seconds, the three rebels hauled the carriage down an abandoned path, masked faces hidden under worn scarves. No patrols. No noise.
Inside, Adhivita's senses flared.
"Something's wrong."
The door flew open. Aman lunged first.
A blur of fists. Sparks of Noctirum light. The clash of metal and rage.
Agastya was pulled from the carriage by Aanchal and restrained, confused and cursing.
Adhivita fought back immediately — graceful, brutal, precise.
"You don't know who you're attacking!" she warned, arms glowing blue.
"You're the one who put him in a coma!" Dikshant shouted.
"I'm the only one trying to save him!" she roared back — but they didn't believe her.
Then, just as she launched a burst of Noctirum toward Aman—
Bang! A massive steel wall erupted between them, forged in an instant. Rebellion guards.
Commander Vidhart stood tall, weapon humming, flanked by Naina and a squad of fighters.
"You'll kill each other before the Dominion lifts a finger," he barked. The force of the blocked blast still threw them all back. Aman hit the ground with a grunt. Adhivita staggered to her knees, eyes wild with shock.
Agastya, panting, pulled free of the ropes.
"Adhivita—STOP! They're not enemies!" Aanchal yanked her scarf down.
The princess froze.
"...Aanchal?"
A long silence. Tears threatened.
"I thought—"
"We thought you betrayed us." Adhivita stood. "Never."
They stood in the alley, surrounded by confusion and dust, but something had shifted.
"I need to see him," Adhivita whispered. "Now."
An hour later, the rebellion bunker buzzed with fear and fury.
People stared as the Dominion princess and royal sage walked through their home — symbols of oppression now face-to-face with survivors.
"You brought her here?" someone yelled.
"She's one of them!" But Vidhart raised a hand.
"She's not here for war. She's here for him."
Inside the med bay, the light from Shivam's body pulsed brighter than ever.
Agastya stared in disbelief.
"I've only seen this once... in theory. He's not unconscious. He's trapped — in trance. If he doesn't come back soon, the Noctirum will burn him out from inside."
"Then what do we do?" Naina asked. Agastya looked to Adhivita.
"You have a bond with him. You were the first his aura responded to. You're the only one who can reach him." She approached the bed, eyes brimming with tears.
"Just... hold his hand. Focus everything. Your voice. Your memory. Let the aura connect."
She nodded, took a breath, and gently slipped her hand into his. The glow surged.
The room filled with blinding orange-blue light. People shielded their eyes as the aura rose like a storm. Machines sparked. Wires snapped.
And then— BOOM. A small explosion shook the chamber. Glass shattered. The bed frame split. Agastya and Adhivita were flung back against the wall. The dust slowly cleared. And there he stood. Shivam. Awake. Alive. And surrounded by a blazing aura of pure molten orange, spiraling like a sun wrapped in thunder.