"It's getting complicated…"
The words slipped from my mouth almost unconsciously, drifting softly into the stale silence of the medical ward—a place I had reluctantly begun to consider my second home since my arrival in Dwitansh. I lay still, my gaze piercing through the blank ceiling above, but my mind far away, tangled in a web of endless, anxious thoughts.
Each breath felt heavier, each heartbeat resonating with a painful intensity, as if reminding me that beneath this calm exterior lay a storm I could hardly contain. I closed my eyes, replaying my visions like scenes from a broken film reel, trying to piece them together into something coherent. Yet, no matter how many times I revisited them, clarity eluded me.
"How can I make use of this?"
The question haunted me mercilessly. My precognition had always felt more of a burden than a gift, an unwanted companion that brought nothing but despair. The last three days had forced me deep into memories of my childhood—a fragmented time, not happy, but bearable enough to give me strength to push through each bleak day. The visions of Dhrithra, Shishta, and that fateful school trip looped endlessly in my head, raising fresh doubts that threatened to unravel my fragile grip on sanity.
What if, back then, I hadn't managed to win Dhrithra over?
What would my life look like right now?
Would I even have made it this far?
Questions upon questions, each more terrifying than the last, tore relentlessly at my consciousness. And amid these haunting thoughts, another disturbing realization began to dawn:
Why now, all of a sudden?
Why was this power resurfacing with a vengeance? Could it be this world's strange energy, the Tattva, awakening something dormant within me? Or was it something else entirely—something sinister that I couldn't yet grasp?
My father's face flashed briefly across my mind, blurred by time but still distinct enough to send a pang of longing through my chest. He had known something—I was sure of it. But fate had cruelly snatched him from my side before he could offer me the answers I so desperately needed.
Now, here I was, trapped in another realm, directionless, drifting like a lost soul through unfamiliar territory. My father's whispered reassurances, his promises to guide me, were nothing more than distant echoes. I was alone again, utterly and hopelessly alone.
My thoughts suddenly shifted, zeroing in on the enigmatic figure who had saved me—Drona.
I had told him, clearly, that I held no grudge against him, that I believed he might not be responsible for everything that had occurred. Yet now, lying here in this quiet ward, I could see that statement for what it truly was—a hollow reassurance masking my unease.
"Didn't I tell you? I don't bear any ill will towards you. We don't even know if you triggered everything. And frankly, worrying about it won't change anything."
What nonsense. Who was I trying to fool?
Deep down, I knew he was responsible. This man—this self-proclaimed scientist from my own world—had undoubtedly played a crucial role in the nightmare I found myself trapped within. He had created this chaos, had flung me into it without warning or reason. Could I truly trust someone capable of such reckless destruction?
A chill of paranoia crept up my spine. His solitude, his convenient seclusion from society—it all screamed suspicion. Perhaps he wasn't the remorseful figure he pretended to be. Perhaps his sympathetic demeanor was merely a facade, carefully constructed to disarm me, to lull me into complacency.
I clenched my fists, jaw tightening painfully. He'd lowered his guard earlier, I remembered. That was unlike him—unless it was deliberate, calculated. Had he genuinely allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, or was he cleverly testing me, gauging my reactions, preparing for some hidden plan?
He's either genuinely remorseful or an exceptional liar.
But the question I couldn't shake, no matter how desperately I wanted to, was:
Which one was it?
I exhaled slowly, forcing my breathing back under control, trying to steady my racing heart. My body felt cold, the air around me thickening with the tension of unanswered questions.
Trusting him blindly would be foolish, I realized bitterly. Yet I had no choice but to keep playing this game, to keep my cards close to my chest. One wrong step and everything could collapse. I had already seen what awaited me if I dared to stray—pain, betrayal, and loss.
A wave of exhaustion washed over me, but sleep was the last thing I desired. Instead, I stared blankly at the ceiling, waiting helplessly as the shadows deepened around me.
Drona, I thought grimly, who are you really? And what are you hiding?
The room was calm, almost too calm. Drona sat in his usual corner, sipping his tea with an air of tranquility, a rare moment of solitude. The walls, bare except for a few shadowy corners, seemed to echo his isolation. As the heat of the cup mingled with the coolness of the air, his mind wandered to the present. Every moment since arriving in Dwitansh felt calculated, like a game whose rules he couldn't fully comprehend. He had come to terms with it, but the weight of the past and the future still hung heavy on his shoulders.
His fingers instinctively brushed the surface of the device resting next to him. The object was compact, a sleek, elliptical design unlike anything the outside world had seen—its advanced technology buried beneath layers of secrecy. With a sharp press of the center button, it rang for a few seconds, the soft buzz vibrating in the quiet room. Finally, the connection was made.
"Greetings, Drona…" came the familiar voice on the other end.
Drona's lips curled into a slight grin, but it was a grim one, a smile with no joy. "Took you long enough to figure out where we are," he said, his tone smooth but laced with the slightest edge.
"Keep moving, you moron," came the reply, irritation rising in the voice. "Don't stand there like an idiot. I don't want you to be discovered while making this connection."
The man's face flashed briefly in Drona's mind, and it was a face that had haunted him for years. "Shreesh," Drona muttered under his breath, almost as if savoring the name.
Shreesh, still in motion, made a gesture with his hand, signaling his troupe to continue forward through the dense forest. The sound of hurried footsteps on rough terrain reached Drona's ears, and he could almost feel the tension in the air. They were on edge, aware of the dangers around them, but still, they moved with purpose, driven by a mission that only they truly understood.
"Don't forget about the forces that might be tailing you," Drona cautioned, his voice momentarily dropping to a whisper, even though he knew Shreesh couldn't hear the vulnerability behind it. He was careful, always. But something about this operation—it didn't sit right.
Shreesh's response was calm, but there was an edge of impatience in his words. "So, what exactly do you want from me, Drona?"
Drona sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes momentarily drifting out the window as he spoke. "Straight to the point, as usual."
There was a brief pause before Drona continued. "Did you map out the plan to raid the Ambhaysha Palace yet?"
A grin tugged at the corner of Shreesh's mouth, even though Drona couldn't see it. "Better than you could have imagined," he said, confidence radiating from his words.
Drona chuckled softly, though the sound was tinged with a warning. "That arrogance will be the death of you one day, Shreesh. You've already had a few close calls. Could've been long dead by now."
A sharp silence hung between them, but only for a moment. Then, Drona's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Saubal is after you. He won't stop until every idea is tested and retested. You should know that by now. He's not someone to underestimate, and you shouldn't be so sure of yourself."
"Just drop it," Shreesh snapped back, his frustration growing. "I'm tired of hearing your assumptions. You're not always right, Drona."
Drona's voice remained steady, his words cutting through the air with a gravity that Shreesh couldn't ignore. "Saubal will try every trick in the book to capture you. He's already the reason Nirvana shrank to such miniscule numbers. He killed your comrades. He instigated riots within your own ranks." Drona paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "How can you be so sure no one is plotting against you? You'd better keep your guard up."
Shreesh, now slightly taken aback, cast a glance over his troupe. The noise of their movement still carried, but his focus shifted momentarily. He wasn't so sure of his own position anymore, and the uncertainty clawed at him, though he quickly shook it off.
"I'm not competent enough to be a leader if it comes to that," Shreesh admitted, his voice losing some of its arrogance. The truth, however unpleasant, had found its way into his words. "But if it comes down to it, I'll face it. I trust my comrades."
Drona's tone softened slightly, a touch of something like respect in his voice. "Figures... but you'll need to be ready. Saubal won't go down without a fight."
Shreesh, already a few paces ahead, hastened his stride. "We'll see to it. Once the time is right." His words were curt, signaling his desire to end the conversation.
Before Shreesh could hang up, Drona's voice interrupted him again, this time with an edge that demanded attention. "I found someone who looks exactly like you."
Shreesh froze mid-stride, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected revelation. "Look like me?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Drona's words were chilling in their calmness. "He's just like me," Drona explained, his tone unshaken, even as the weight of the statement pressed down on both of them. "His name is Kriday."
Shreesh's breath hitched "So he's a Dweller as well… How is this relevant to me?" His curiosity was piqued, though confusion lingered beneath the surface.
Drona's response was sharp and to the point. "Get the box before it's traded. Don't waste time."
Shreesh's pace quickened, his mind racing with the new information, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something more was at play here. As he sprinted ahead, Drona's words echoed in his mind, but his focus remained on the mission. "That's what we're here for," he muttered, trying to brush off the growing tension. "But you didn't answer my question."
With a smirk, Drona ended the call, leaving Shreesh frustrated but determined.
Shreesh muttered under his breath, a mix of frustration and resolve in his tone, "Bastard loves to do things as he pleases…" But there was more to it than just annoyance. Drona had left him with questions, and he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that his path was entwined with the mysteries Drona was hiding.
As Shreesh pushed forward, his steps heavy but purposeful, he knew that whatever Drona had uncovered, whoever this "Kriday" was—could change everything. The air seemed thick with anticipation, and the stakes had never been higher.
Unbeknownst to Shreesh, the threads of fate were already beginning to unravel, and his role in the unfolding events had only just begun.
After Sometime they reached nearby the Kaloroos Caves..
The path through Kupawara district had been long and treacherous, but Shreesh's group had finally arrived at the caves. The atmosphere grew heavy as they approached one of the oldest cave systems in the area. Its ancient lore, linked to the fabled Oponskoye, was known only to a few, and even fewer understood its significance. But Shreesh was certain. This was the place where things would unfold, the point where secrets would be unearthed.
The group, consisting of sixty-seven individuals, followed Shreesh through the dark, winding tunnels. The walls were smudged with a deep red hue, almost as if the cave itself had witnessed centuries of bloodshed. Dripping water echoed in the silence, adding to the ominous aura that surrounded them.
"This will do," Shreesh said, his voice unwavering, as he stopped in the heart of the cave. "Let's discuss the formation." He knew that this would not be a typical strategy meeting. It was a moment of reckoning.
Jishnu, the strongest in the group, stepped forward, his sharp eyes piercing the gloom. He raised a torch, casting a flickering light that illuminated the faces around him. As he removed his cloak, his muscular build was revealed, and the light from the torch made his features appear even more imposing.
"I'll head to raid the palace along with you. Count me in for the main force," Jishnu said confidently, his voice steady and sure.
Shreesh nodded, his praise ringing clear. "I can't afford to leave you behind. You are our strongest, our only shot at taking on Vrisha."
Jishnu smirked, a hint of pride in his demeanor. "Don't flatter me too much. I'm good, but not invincible."
Shreesh's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your Tatva and Drona's technology are our best chance to defeat Vrisha. Don't underestimate what we can do together."
Before the conversation could go further, a young girl stepped forward, her sharp gaze directed at Shreesh. "I believe you didn't bring us all the way here just to talk," she said, her tone fierce.
"Behna, this is important. Without this plan, we won't be able to raid the capital," Shreesh replied, trying to calm her. Subha, his sister, was many things—intense, passionate, and perhaps a little too brash—but she was a leader in her own right.
"One of the underground caves leads directly to the highlands near the palace," Shreesh continued, eyes fixed on his sister, trying to explain the significance of the route. "We'll be traveling underground."
"Are you mad?" A young man from the group spoke up, his voice filled with doubt. "These underground tunnels have very low oxygen levels. We'll probably be dead before we reach there."
Shreesh's gaze hardened. "Do you have a better plan?" His words were sharp, a challenge.
"Why can't we just take the normal route?" the young man pressed. "It would be easier, faster."
"We are Nirvana!" Shreesh's voice rose, forceful and commanding. "We will be dead before we reach there if we take the normal route. This is our only chance."
"But you've lost it," the man shot back, his frustration mounting. "How do you expect us to survive these deadly caves?"
The atmosphere grew tense. The group was clearly divided, some unwilling to follow Shreesh's lead.
"Tattva," Shreesh said, his voice firm as he spoke the word that bound them all. "We'll use our respective Tattvas, and nature's healing properties will carry us through. This route was used by the Oponskoye Empire. Your hesitation reveals your lack of commitment to Nirvana."
Kirkash, a tall man with a grim expression, spoke out, his voice laced with frustration. "Oponskoye or no Oponskoye, I know my limits. This is madness. I joined Nirvana to avenge my sister." His voice broke with emotion, a deep yearning for justice.
"I support Kirkash!" another voice called out, and soon twelve voices joined in. They were not afraid to defy Shreesh, unwilling to trust in the cave's treacherous path.
Shreesh didn't speak immediately. His eyes scanned the faces of the dissidents, his mind calculating. His gaze flickered to Subha and Jishnu, who were busy lighting the torches to ensure every face was visible. The light from the torches flickered as the cave slowly became illuminated. The oxygen in the cave was still fresh, and the group could breathe without difficulty for now.
Finally, with a smirk that sent chills down the spines of those who watched him, Shreesh spoke. "How do you know about the low oxygen levels in this cave?" His voice was calm but carried a dangerous edge.
A long silence followed. Kirkash, who had been the most vocal against the plan, stammered, clearly caught off guard. "I... it's just a cave. That's given, isn't it?"
Shreesh's gaze turned icy. "You were born and raised in Hastinapur District. There are no caves that deep, no limestone to cause oxygen problems. And this is your first time here, isn't it?" His voice grew sharper with every word. "You don't know the cave, but you speak like you've studied it. Why?"
The pressure on Kirkash grew unbearable. His face drained of color, and he could no longer hide his guilt. "You joined Nirvana to avenge your sister's death... using Nirvana or from Nirvana?" Shreesh asked, his voice cold as ice.
With that question, all twelve traitors leapt into action. Their faces twisted in fury as they revealed their true intentions. Each one engaged their Tattvas, weapons of power designed for death, as they rushed at Shreesh.
Kirkash lashed out first, his Wind Slicer Tattva aiming to cleave through Shreesh's defenses. But the strike passed harmlessly through Shreesh's afterimage, a mere trick to buy him time.
The traitors attacked one by one, each trying to take down Shreesh. But they were no match for Jishnu, the strongest in Nirvana. From the shadows, he emerged, his Glock raised, and with precise, deadly shots, he eliminated the traitors, one by one.
The sound of each shot was a gruesome reminder of their failed rebellion. Brain matter splattered across the cave floor, and their bodies crumpled lifelessly. In seconds, all twelve traitors were down, their ambitions extinguished.
The cave fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the faint dripping of water. The group stood still, their eyes wide, no one daring to speak.
Shreesh, ever watchful, stepped forward. "Well done, behna," Shreesh praised Subha, his voice authoritative but filled with approval. Subha's Tattva, the ability to control perception, had played a vital role in keeping everyone under control. But the strain of using her abilities had taken its toll. She faltered, her energy drained, and collapsed to the ground.
Jishnu was the first to reach her, followed by Shreesh and the others. They gathered around her, ensuring she was safe, though the stress of the situation had clearly exhausted her.
Amid the chaos, a figure emerged from the shadows—someone with a familiar face, someone who resembled Shishta. She moved forward, her presence commanding attention.
Shreesh paused, recognizing her immediately. "Saanvi?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and recognition.
Saanvi nodded, her face unreadable. She pulled a bag from her side and handed it to Shreesh. "Drona sent these," she said flatly.
Shreesh took the bag and looked inside. Gas masks, neatly packed and ready for use.
"You knew this would happen," Saanvi added, her voice devoid of emotion.
Shreesh's gaze softened as he processed her words. "I was certain of it. But... lately, my intuition has been stronger. I don't know why, but something's shifting."
Saanvi smiled, a rare glint of warmth in her eyes. "It's for your good, Shreesh. Don't doubt yourself now."
Shreesh nodded, his resolve hardening. He turned to the remaining members of the group, the loyal few who had survived the chaos.
"Only seven of us will perform the raid," Shreesh announced, his voice resolute.
The others hesitated, their uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick fog. But the tension in the cave was palpable, and Shreesh knew that this was the moment of truth.
"The rest of you have roles to play in the setup. The trade will happen on the night of the 30th of Jyestha. Let's pour our hearts into this, and let Shambhala echo our names for centuries to come."
A surge of energy coursed through the group as they prepared for what lay ahead. The battle was not over—it had only just begun.