The moment Arjan stepped inside the sacred complex, the world behind him seemed to dissolve.The riots, the smoke, the screaming crowds—everything faded into a distant, muffled echo.
Inside, the air felt different.Still.Calm.As if time itself hesitated to move.
The faint glow that had pulled him earlier now illuminated the marble floor, guiding him deeper into the complex. Every step echoed with a strange harmony, like invisible drums beating in his chest.
The Nihang who had greeted him walked ahead with steady, unhurried steps.
Arjan finally gathered the courage to speak."Why me? What am I supposed to do?"
The Nihang didn't turn."Those questions will be answered when you are ready to hear them."
Arjan frowned."I don't understand—"
"You will," the warrior said, his voice calm yet iron-solid."For now… follow."
They passed ancient walls marked with timeless verses, dimly glowing as if the words themselves recognized Arjan's presence. He felt an energy rising inside him—something powerful, something old.
Finally, they reached a circular chamber lit by warm candlelight. At its center stood a large bowl of shimmering water, glowing as if starlight was trapped within it.
Arjan froze.
He recognized this.
Amrit.The sacred nectar.The doorway to Khalsa.
Five Nihang Singhs were already standing around the bowl, their blue cholas flowing like rivers of midnight, their dumallas crowned with steel. Each carried the aura of a seasoned warrior, and each watched Arjan with unreadable calm.
The first spoke."You felt the Call?"
Arjan nodded."…Yes. I don't know why, but I did."
The second stepped forward."No one chooses the Call. The Call chooses you."
The third placed a long, curved kirpan beside the bowl."The world weakens. Darkness spreads through corruption. Justice has been forgotten."
The fourth continued."Humanity is losing its path. The world of tomorrow will need warriors of truth."
Finally, the fifth spoke, his voice deep and echoing like thunder through a valley:
"Khalsa must rise again—not to rule, but to guide."
Arjan felt the words strike him like a lightning bolt of realization… and responsibility.
"But I'm just a normal person," he whispered."I'm not strong like you. Not wise. Not trained enough…"
The eldest Nihang stepped forward and finally placed a hand on Arjan's shoulder.
"Strength is not found in the body," he said softly."It is awakened in the soul."
Arjan swallowed, heart pounding.
The leader nodded to him."If your spirit accepts the path—step forward."
Arjan's feet felt heavy. This was more than a ritual. It was a transformation… a rebirth. The doorway to a destiny he never imagined.
He took a breath.
And then took the step.
The chamber brightened instantly.The candles flared.A wind—unfelt outside—swirled around the circle.
The Nihangs began reciting sacred verses. Their voices merged like a single powerful river, filling the room with a force that made Arjan tremble.
The glowing Amrit rippled toward him as if alive.
Arjan lowered his head.
And whispered:
"I am ready."
The warriors stepped closer, forming the circle around him.
The ceremony began.
The transformation started.
And the future world—still burning outside—would soon learn the meaning of a Khalsa reborn.