The winds carried ash across the land. Aadi trudged through the charred fields of what once was fertile ground, the stench of burnt earth and sorrow clinging to every breath. He thought he was alone, but the silence was broken by a voice—low, resonant, worn by centuries.
"You remind me of him."
Aadi spun.
A figure emerged from the shadows of a ruined temple. He was regal yet frayed, a tall man with a golden crown dulled by time, his robes faded like relics of an age long gone. His eyes burned with sorrow, yet carried an unyielding dignity.
"I am Vibhishana," he said.
Aadi's chest tightened. He knew the name from old fireside tales—Ravana's brother, the one who betrayed Lanka, who stood with Rama and was blessed with kingship.
But here he stood, not as a tale, but as a man burdened by eternity.
"Lanka… fell long ago," Vibhishana continued, his gaze drifting across the horizon. "Its stones sank beneath waves, its glory swallowed by time. Yet I remain. Rama's blessing, they called it. Immortality. But what is a throne when your people are dust, when your own name is spat upon by the blood that birthed you?"
His voice broke, carrying the weight of centuries.
Aadi swallowed hard. "You sided with the gods. Didn't they reward you?"
Vibhishana's laugh was hollow. "Reward? No, boy. They made me a symbol. A reminder to others: betray your kin for divine order, and you may live forever—but alone."
He stepped closer, the earth trembling faintly beneath his feet, not with power but with the burden of time. His crown, though cracked, gleamed faintly in the dying sun.
"I see you caught between paths," Vibhishana said, eyes narrowing. "Between brother and world. Between demons and gods. Know this: whichever side you serve, you will be theirs. Forever. And forever is longer than you think."
The words pierced Aadi deeper than Rahu's whispers ever had. Here was no trickster, no seducer, but a man who had lived the choice Aadi feared. A man trapped in victory.
"Is there no other way?" Aadi asked, almost pleading.
For the first time, Vibhishana's expression softened. "Perhaps. But it is not written in the tongues of gods or demons. If such a path exists, mortal boy, it will be forged by your hand. At a cost you may not yet be willing to pay."
The air thickened, and before Aadi could speak again, the Exiled King's figure began to fade, dissolving into the smoke of the ruined land.
Only his voice lingered.
"Choose wisely. The crown of gods weighs heavier than the chains of demons."
And then he was gone.
Aadi stood alone, trembling, yet with a new seed of dread planted in his heart: that choosing a side may mean not just sacrifice—but eternal isolation.