Bagul, tall and faceless, loomed like a torn silhouette against the dying sky. His body was unnaturally motionless, a twisted figure trapped in a corrupted painting. His long black hair flared wildly in every direction, though there was no wind.
Suddenly—
The air snapped.
A pulse of raw hatred and darkness erupted from Bagul, crashing outward like a shockwave. Distant villagers felt it in their bones. Birdsong ceased, the leaves on trees curled and withered, and even the sky seemed to recoil in silent dread.
From Bagul's feet, the very earth fractured. Jagged black lines spiderwebbed across the soil like living veins, poisoning all in their path. Then the shadows deepened, unnaturally dense, like ink spreading through water.
Bagul spread his arms, and his vast, amorphous shadow expanded rapidly—consuming light, devouring color, and swallowing the horizon.
Everything turned black.
It was no longer a nightfall—but a descent into a different reality.
The shadow veil became his gateway—his Netherworld Dimension.
Yan Sen stood at the center, his form slowly dissolving into the darkness.
But the darkness stopped.
A sudden golden glow surged from within.
Yan Sen raised his left hand, fingers gently folding into the Anjali Mudra—this gesture of pressing the palms together is a common sign of respect and reverence, and in exorcism, it can be used to invoke the blessings of deities for protection and strength during the ritual.
The gesture was calm. Unshaken.
"Vaishnavism..." Aleksander whispered from behind the protective barrier."He's using Hindu exorcism rites... ancient ones."
As he spoke the names of Narasimha, fierce guardian of dharma and protector of the faithful, the character "ॐ" (Om) flared to life on the back of his hand—burning orange-gold, glowing with divine authority.
Suddenly, a radiant burst of light erupted from his body, washing away the darkness like a rising tide against ash.
The air shattered—space fracturing like glass—and through it, emerged the towering golden form of Narasimha, calm yet commanding, his leonine face emanating infinite wrath toward evil.
The fourth avatar of Vishnu—part lion, part man—stood eternal behind Yan Sen, bathed in light, his claws curled with righteous fury.
From his body, a wave of radiant light burst forth, pushing against the suffocating dark. The very space around him shattered like glass, revealing a giant golden spectral image of Narasimha towering behind him—calm, eternal, and overwhelming in divine presence.Narasimha is the fourth avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu. He incarnated as a part-lion, part-man. As he is considered a fierce god who eliminates and vanquishes evil spirits
The shadow realm screamed, folding and crumbling like burnt paper caught in a cleansing wind.
Bagul let out an inhuman, distorted roar of fury, his form forced back into the mortal plane.
Yan Sen's eyes sharpened.
"Light Sword of Judgment."
Around him, dozens of glowing shards of light formed instantly—each etched with four parallel lines that gleamed like sacred seals. With a swift motion of his hand, the shards launched like divine spears.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The light-shards impaled Bagul's arms, legs, and chest, locking his form in a cross-like crucifixion. The deity of darkness thrashed and howled, struggling against the judgmental power of sanctified light.
Bagul's scream echoed across the sky—not loud in volume, but vibrating with rage, pain, and the fear of judgment.
Bagul screamed, struggling violently as the Light Shards held him in place. His body twitched, black ichor dripping from the wounds like living shadows. The air around him remained tense, corrupted.
But Yan Sen wasn't done.
He stepped forward, calm and resolute, fingers moving through a distinct set of mudra seals. His voice rang out with authority.
"Hōi—Target: Bagul."
"Jōso—Location: This field, anchored to the four cardinal points."
"Ketsu—Seal it."
At once, a blazing blue light erupted from the earth, forming a glowing circular array around Bagul. Symbols spun across the grass, each point etched with ancient Buddhist kanji and protective Sanskrit.
Then—with a thunderous crack—the Kekkai activated.
A massive transparent cube of shimmering energy dropped down from the heavens, enclosing Bagul like a divine prison. The structure hummed with spiritual energy, its walls shifting slightly like water infused with lightning.
Bagul hurled himself at the edge, slamming his hand into the inner wall. Sparks of light exploded where his touch met the barrier, and the air outside hissed with burning purification.
From within, Bagul roared, his voice distant yet still deeply wrong—like a chorus of suffering souls crying out at once.
Aleksander, watching from the protection of his own Kekkai, breathed in relief."It is done."
Yan Sen narrowed his eyes. His voice lowered."Now, to end it."
Raising his hand again, Yan Sen began chanting."Metsu."
The final command.
Suddenly, the Kekkai imploded, collapsing inward with a deafening vacuum-suck sound. All the light and matter within it—including Bagul—was crushed into a single point of glowing white.
Then—
Silence.
The light faded. The shadows lifted. The sky slowly returned to its natural dusk.
Where Bagul once stood—nothing remained.
Yan Sen slowly exhaled, the "Om" symbol on his hand dimming, and the golden Narasimha behind him fading like morning mist.
As the golden shimmer of the collapsed Kekkai faded into the earth, a heavy silence returned to the village.
Aleksander lowered his barrier.
Oldman John and his son William, no longer restrained, rushed into the house. Their footsteps were heavy with panic but filled with hope.
Inside, the boy still lay unconscious on the floor—but his breathing was steady, his color had returned, and no trace of darkness lingered on his skin. Relief flooded their faces.
Aleksander stepped forward, placing two fingers on the boy's wrist. After a moment, he gave a slight nod.
"He'll be alright. Just resting."
Tears welled up in William's eyes as he gently gathered his nephew in his arms.
Outside, Yan Sen stood still, gazing toward the distant sky, as if sensing the echo of something far beyond human perception.
John and William soon told there daughter/sister and her husband waht happened. They were shocked and kneeling deeply before Yan Sen, their voices cracking with gratitude."Thank you, Master Yan. Thank you for saving our bloodline…"
Startled, Yan Sen moved to pull them up.
"No need for this. Stand—protect your family. That's thanks enough."
The family bowed again, reverent and grateful, before watching as Yan Sen and Aleksander turned to leave.
Later, on the forest path.
The two walked side by side beneath the pale light of a rising moon.
"So, Master…" Aleksander finally asked, eyes narrowed. "Bagul—he's not truly gone, is he?"
Yan Sen shook his head slowly."No. He'll return—perhaps in a thousand years. Perhaps longer."
Aleksander frowned."Couldn't we seal him away? Make sure he never comes back?"
"Possible," Yan Sen replied. "But seals are temporary. Time, fate, foolishness... something always breaks them. And then the cycle repeats."
Aleksander was silent for a moment, absorbing the truth."So the Kekkai… is just temporary measure."
"Exactly," Yan Sen said.
But inwardly, Yan Sen left the deeper truth unspoken.
He could have ended Bagul completely. A single word—"Die"—spoken with absolute spiritual will, and Bagul's existence would've unraveled entirely.
But that wouldn't be enough.
Because as long as Greater Darkness remained—the metaphysical womb of all malice, fear, and forgotten myths—another Bagul would eventually take shape. Different from the one we saw. But same essence.
And Greater Darkness was not just a creature.It was a concept, an embodiment, source, and cause of all evil ever to exist. Having existed before the creation of the multiverse, it functioned as an antithesis to God himself and sought only to snuff out the light of creation. Beings of evil such as Darkseid, Trigon, Mister Mind, Superboy-Prime and the Anti-Monitor were all direct or indirect creations of the Great Darkness.
To destroy it would be to collapse the framework of reality.
So, for now, Yan Sen chose the more meaningful path: intervention, protection, and balance.
A quiet smile crossed his face thought."Besides… this way's more interesting."
And with that, the two exorcists vanished into the forest mist—onward to the next shadow.