The dark tendrils of Mohini's magic coiled around Gauri like living serpents, tightening with merciless force. Pain lanced through her body, every breath a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder of helplessness. Mohini's laughter echoed in the chamber, sharp, cruel, and triumphant.
"You see, little Reevavanshi," Mohini hissed, leaning closer, her eyes burning with malice, "even now, your strength is nothing. Your powers as Jalpanchi are gone. You are weak. You—will—fail!"
Gauri's chest heaved. Tears mingled with blood and sweat, but in her eyes, something shifted. A spark. A glimmer of defiance, of unbroken spirit.
Then, a silver light blossomed within her.
Her eyes snapped open, and they weren't the familiar brown of Jalpanchi anymore. They glowed silver, burning with divine authority and ancient purpose.
"ENOUGH!" she shouted, voice echoing like a thousand bells of justice.
With a sudden, violent jerk, she wrenched herself free from Mohini's tendrils. The dark magic recoiled like a snake struck, hissing in fury. Mohini was thrown backward, crashing into the floor with a thud that shook the room. Dust and shadows spiraled around her, but Gauri landed on her feet, unwavering, her chest rising and falling steadily, her silver gaze fixed on the witch who had tormented her life.
Charvi and Adrija staggered back, shock and awe mingling in their eyes.
Mohini scrambled to her feet, fury contorting her features. "How… how is this possible? You—your powers… you lost them as Jalpanchi!"
Gauri's lips curved into a faint, unyielding smile. Her voice rang out, calm yet commanding, carrying an authority that made even the shadows in the room shiver.
"You are right, witch," she said slowly, each word deliberate, each syllable heavy with divine weight. "I lost my powers as Jalpanchi. But the Tridev did not send a Jalpanchi to end you. They sent me."
A hush fell over the chamber, the kind that grips the air like ice. Mohini's eyes widened in disbelief, her hands trembling slightly as she realized the shift in power, the shift in fate.
"I am Gauri of the Reevavanshi," she continued, her voice rising, resonating with an unearthly authority, "and to your kind, I am the end. I am RISHVA."
Mohini's breath hitched. She staggered, backing away instinctively.
At that moment, the temple doors in the mansion behind them creaked open. A blinding light spilled out, pure and radiant, illuminating the shadows with divine brilliance. From deep within, a voice called, echoing in Gauri's very soul: Rishva… come forth.
She didn't hesitate. She sprinted toward the temple. Her feet barely touched the ground as the light grew brighter, almost guiding her. There, at the center, lay the Dev Dhanush, the legendary bow of Pinaka itself, pulsing with ancient power.
Gauri fell to her knees, clasping the bow in reverent hands. She closed her eyes and prayed silently to Lord Shiva, feeling his presence flow through her like a river of pure energy. Her palms tightened around the bow, and as she lifted it, the impossible happened: she hoisted it effortlessly. The Dev Dhanush, which hundreds of men together could not even budge, now rested in her hands. She stood tall, the very embodiment of divine power.
Charvi and Adrija's eyes filled with relief, awe, and renewed hope. Mohini's face, however, turned ashen, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she realized the impossible: Gauri, now Rishva, wielded the bow of the gods.
Mohini's hands shot daggers through the air, slashing toward Gauri in a frenzy. But the moment the vermillion platters from the temple overturned, red powder erupting like a divine fog, Gauri's form was obscured. The haze shimmered and danced around her, protecting her.
And then the fog cleared.
Gauri stood, Dev Dhanush in hand, pulling the string taut. A bolt of lightning crackled along the bow, arcing like pure wrath of the heavens. A lightning-shaped tattoo glowed fiercely along her upper arm, pulsing with every heartbeat.
Her voice rang out, powerful, divine, and merciless:
"You have mocked God's power. You have harmed the innocent. You have spread destruction and despair. Now… let me show you the true power of the divine!"
"Har Har Mahadev!" she roared.
The lightning bolt shot forth from the bow, a spear of pure celestial fury. It struck Mohini squarely, piercing her with the unrelenting judgment of the gods themselves. Screams echoed as darkness and fire collided, Mohini's body writhing, smoke curling from the wounds.
She fell to her knees, grasping at the earth as her life force drained away. Her eyes, once burning with malice, now shimmered with rage and disbelief.
"And… Vihaan…" she rasped, her voice barely audible, yet venomous even in her dying breath, "he will… finish this… apocalypse… and kill you… before it ends!"
Gauri's chest heaved, her silver eyes blazing as the light of the Dev Dhanush reflected on her face. Pain, loss, betrayal, grief—all of it fused into divine purpose.
She had discovered her true self. She had been chosen. She had become Rishva—the Destroyer of the Dark Lineage.
And the war was far from over.