The air inside the UOH Board Meeting Room was still — almost suffocating.
Though the air conditioner hummed softly, everyone's face was beaded with sweat. Fear clung to the air like a heavy fog.
One of the members sitting near the end of the long table slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He dabbed his forehead and neck, eyes darting nervously toward the man seated at the head — Veer Pratap Singh. His stare held a mix of guilt and dread.
Veer's expression was unreadable. His posture was straight, composed, yet the weight in his gaze made every man in that room sit up.
"Introduce yourselves," he said quietly.
The words hit like a command. Instantly, everyone straightened their ties, clearing their throats as the tension thickened.
One of them stood first.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm sure most of you already know who I am… but let me say it again." He smiled faintly, masking unease behind pride.
"I'm Ravi, Head of the Bull Guild."
(S-Rank.)
The others followed one by one.
"I'm Ketu, leader of the Wolf Guild."
(S-Rank.)
"I'm Ramy, head of the Lion Guild."
(S-Rank.)
"I'm Bheem, leader of the Elephant Guild."
(S-Rank.)
Across India, only these four guilds existed — the foundation of the Hero System.
Every hero in the nation worked under one of them.
*****
Heroes were divided by ranks: E, D, C, B, A, S, and SS.
E-Rank — those with minor powers, barely useful in real combat. Almost human.
D-Rank — users of simple magic or healing skills.
C-Rank — the ground heroes, patrolling cities, handling low-level powered criminals.
B-Rank — fighters who joined large-scale raids and battles.
A-Rank — the captains, leaders of guild teams, deciding who stayed and who left.
S-Rank — the heads of guilds, heroes who only entered the field when wars broke out.
SS-Rank — beings standing close to the divine, considered the ultimate heroes. Only one had ever reached that rank.
Veer Pratap Singh — the No.1 hero in the world.
But legends spoke of something beyond even that. A rank lost to time.
SSS-Rank.
Those who could wield the power of gods themselves.
No human in recorded history had ever reached it.
*****
"...The country's condition is worsening," Veer said, his tone heavy. "Innocent civilians are dying — and even our heroes are being slaughtered."
His voice carried the ache of someone who had seen too much loss. His eyes, dark and calm, shimmered faintly with pain.
"Shyam," he said softly.
His secretary stepped forward, placing several files on the table before each guild head.
"Read the data aloud, Bheem," Veer ordered, resting his elbows on the table, fingers touching his chin.
Bheem flipped open the file. The sound of turning pages echoed in the silent room.
But the moment he began reading, the color drained from his face. His massive hands trembled slightly as his eyes darkened with rage.
"Four hundred and fifty civilians… dead." His voice cracked with fury.
"Thirty E-Rank heroes. Ten C-Ranks. Three B-Ranks. And… one A-Rank hero."
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his temple.
Bheem slammed his fist on the table — a loud crack echoed as a piece of the edge snapped off in his palm.
"Damn it!" he roared. "Those bastards didn't even spare the children… fifty kids died in that attack!"
Silence.
Every guild leader lowered their gaze. Guilt and helplessness painted the air. The four strongest men in India — powerless before tragedy.
Veer's fingers tapped softly on the table. Thud. Thud.
"Numbers don't matter anymore," he said, voice sharp. "The real problem is… people have lost faith. No one wants to become a hero now."
The room went dead still.
"If this continues, we'll have to seek help from heroes of other nations," Veer continued.
Ketu frowned. "Sir, that won't be possible. America's in the middle of an internal war. They can't send support."
Ravi nodded. "Japan's facing the same. I spoke to their guild head, Kuri Kawa — Kaiju attacks have doubled there."
Veer closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his forehead. "All nations struggling at once… This isn't coincidence. Something's moving in the shadows."
"People are terrified," Ravi said quietly. "We need heroes who are willing to die for this country — willingly."
Veer's eyes opened again, cold and resolute. "Then we'll have to create them."
Everyone looked at him, uncertain.
"We'll train everyone," he said. "Powerless or powerful — it doesn't matter anymore. The age of bloodlines and rankings ends now."
Ramy frowned. "You mean… accept students without powers?"
"Yes," Veer said. "From now on, anyone with courage will be given a chance."
He stood up. The aura around him felt immense — unshakable, divine.
"You have ten days. Prepare your guilds. Begin the training program.
You may go."
The room emptied one by one, leaving only silence behind.
And yet, even in that silence, the sound of war felt close.
*****
Yamuna Ghat.
The world… had stopped.
Time itself stood frozen. The air trembled with divine energy. Storms raged through the sky — cars were suspended midair, rivers swirled backward.
And high above it all, a colossal divine beast — Garuda — soared across the heavens, wings stretching beyond imagination.
"Stop it!" Karan shouted, his voice trembling. His body shook under the roaring winds. "You're… you're a god's fragment! Why are you doing this? Please, people will die!"
A deep, echoing voice resonated within the storm.
"My child… this is not my will. I am but energy — uncontained, unshaped. I cannot control what I am."
The pressure in the air crushed him. Karan's clothes burned, his skin scorched with light. His body felt as if it were being torn apart from within.
He screamed. "Ahhhh—! Please, stop— it's burning—!"
"My child," the voice whispered again — calm, divine, infinite. "Do you desire power?"
Karan's breath hitched. The pain was unbearable — like fire crawling through his veins.
"Wh-what…?" he gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No! I just— I just want to live!"
"But you do desire it," the voice replied. "For only those who seek power truly fear it."
The air shattered with thunder. Garuda's wings spread wide, covering the sky.
"Listen to me, my child. Desire alone brings nothing. To wield power, you must prove yourself. Sacrifice. Endure. Rise above pain."
Karan fell to his knees, his vision fading.
"P-Prove myself…?"
"When the day comes that you prove your soul — I will return," the voice said, fading into the wind.
"And on that day… you shall stand as my chosen."
BOOM.
A blinding explosion consumed everything. The storm vanished.
The river flowed again. Cars dropped to the ground. The wind fell silent.
Karan lay still, gasping for air.
But… he felt nothing. No pain. His clothes were intact. The burns were gone.
He blinked, disoriented. The world around him was normal again — calm, peaceful, as if nothing had happened.
"What… what was that?" he whispered. Panic clawed up his chest. He clutched his head, trembling violently.
"Ahhh—! Who the hell are you!?"
He staggered to his feet, eyes wide with fear. Without a thought, he jumped off the boat, his bare feet hitting the muddy ground.
And then — he ran.
Ran as if death itself chased him.