In Pune's Koregaon Park, the evening sun cast long shadows over Amar's apartment, where he stood, his golden eyes glowing with purpose renewed by Ria's support and the Uplift NGO's impact. The God of Darkness, protector of the weak, scourge of the corrupt, had found clarity in his mission, but the weight of his kills—men like Aryan Kapoor—still lingered. His bond with Darkness, a friendship unlike the servitude of other proxies, gave him strength, but he knew he couldn't fight alone. Other proxies existed, serving their primordials, but he knew nothing of their identities or motives, disconnected from their world. To face the growing tide of corruption, he needed allies—reliable, steadfast, incorruptible. Closing his eyes, he reached out telepathically, his shadows carrying his voice across the city to Inspector General Vikram Rathore, a trusted ally granted a sliver of Darkness's power to root out evil.
Vikram, I need reliable people, Amar's voice echoed in Rathore's mind, steady but urgent. Men and women I can trust to fight corruption, to stand with me. The battles ahead—they're bigger than one man, even the God of Darkness.
In his modest home in Pune's Shivajinagar, Rathore sat at a small desk, his weathered face lit by a flickering lamp, his eyes glinting with the faint shadow of Darkness's gift. Amar, my task force is your answer. Seventy to eighty strong, all good people—vetted, organized, skilled. I used the power you gave me to weed out the corrupt, those who'd sell their souls for a bribe. These are the best—detectives, tacticians, fighters—who've dedicated their lives to justice. They're disciplined, led with precision. If you want to contract people to form your own force, there's no one better.
Amar's voice carried a hint of hesitation. Contracting them… binding their lives to me through Darkness. Is it right, Vikram? They're good people—will they accept this power, this bond?
Rathore's response was firm, his conviction unwavering. These men and women have spent their lives fighting evil—corrupt officials, traffickers, tycoons. They're not just good at their work; they're driven by the same fire as you. Contracting them would amplify their purpose, give them the strength to stand against the worst. I've seen their hearts, Amar, with the clarity your power gave me. They're ready to fight with you, to protect the weak.
Amar paused, shadows swirling around him as he considered. Then we'll meet them, Vikram. Not at headquarters—I'll come to you, and we'll visit each one at their homes, using shadow teleportation. I'll speak to them in person, convince them individually. If they can't accept the contract, I'll let them walk away. They'll question if this was real, but I won't force them.
Rathore's voice warmed, a rare smile in his tone. A personal touch, Chaos King. Wise. I'll prepare the list—names, addresses. Meet me tonight, and we'll start. They'll see the truth in you.
Amar opened his eyes, his golden gaze fierce, his resolve hardened. The prospect of building a force bound by Darkness's power, united by his mission, felt right—a step toward protecting more lives, dismantling corruption on a grander scale. Ria's words echoed in his mind, her love and Uplift's light anchoring him. He summoned his shadows, ready to teleport to Rathore's home, their first step in forging a new alliance.
In the Persian Gulf, Khalid Al-Mansour's obsidian stronghold thrummed with energy. Arjun Kapoor stood in a training chamber, its steel walls scarred from his experiments with Sound. His black tunic clung to a frame taut with vengeance, his sharp jaw set, haunted eyes burning with focus. Khalid, proxy of Lightning, stood on a rune-etched platform, his white ghutra framing eyes that sparked with approval, guiding Arjun with precise instructions. Noor Al-Bakri stood nearby, her dark hijab framing a poised face, silent but observant.
"Channel the vibration," Khalid instructed, his voice steady like rolling thunder. "Sound can fracture steel or sway a mind. Your father mastered nations with it. Target the panel's edge—sharpen your control."
Arjun nodded, his heart set on mastering Sound to hunt the God of Darkness, the rogue proxy who killed his father. He trusted his instincts, absorbing Khalid's lessons with focus. He spoke—"Pulse"—his voice a low, resonant hum. The air quaked, and a steel panel's edge splintered with a sharp crack. Khalid's eyes gleamed. "Now, subtler—bend intent, not just matter."
Arjun's voice dropped to a whisper—"Compel." The air shimmered, and Noor's hand twitched, reaching for a pen before she caught herself, blinking. Arjun's lips curled, confidence surging. "This power—it's mine," he said, his tone resolute. "The God of Darkness will fall."
From: Aurthor Nikhil T.
Subject: Please check out my new novel, Asura: The Hunter
Hello,
I've recently published my new novel, titled Asura: The Hunter.
I would appreciate it if you could give it a read.
Thank you very much for your time and consideration.
Best regards,
Nikhil T. (Author)