The skies over the battlefield had darkened—not with clouds, but with fractures in time itself. Threads of causality twisted into knots as the rules of existence began to falter. The ground trembled under the weight of layered realities, and echoes of voices long gone whispered across the wind. The very air trembled, humming with a cosmic dissonance.
At the center of this temporal storm stood Velissara, the 7-Star Hell Gatekeeper—though even that title fell short of capturing her true essence. Her presence rippled across the field, cloaked in robes stitched from memories and forgotten fates, eyes glowing with seven hues representing the spectrum of time—past, present, future, parallel, possible, broken, and forbidden. She was both an omen and a goddess.
And in front of her, Satya fell.
Having unlocked the Monarch Touch, he had fought valiantly, unleashing a tempest of chakra and swordplay that had once lit the battlefield with celestial fury. His cracked Krantival Sword of Shivaji had channeled the forgotten legacy of India's greatest kings. But now, that sword lay shattered completely, its pieces scattered like history itself. His chakra gates were open, his soul burning with 70% of the Garud Power, but even that wasn't enough.
Velissara extended her hand, and with a delicate twist of her fingers, she folded the moment into an ancient memory. A pulse of chronomantic energy surged forth, striking Satya's chest. Bones broke. Blood spilled. His body flew through the air like a dying comet and crashed into the earth. A crater formed beneath him.
"SATYA!" Vaidehi screamed.
Yug, already unconscious, twitched from the echoes of magic warping around him. Vaidehi, despite her injuries, stood up. She bled from her lips, her skin scorched by raw aetheric flame. Her eyes locked on Velissara.
"You will not harm them!" she roared, summoning the Spirit Mandala—a burning wheel of divine geometry—and chanted a forbidden verse from the Rigveda.
"Narakantaka!"
The air itself burned.
A divine pillar of judgment launched toward Velissara, who only smiled. She snapped her fingers.
Time stopped.
Vaidehi was frozen mid-air. Her body petrified in a golden prism of timelessness. Even her voice was paused—her scream caught in her throat, unspoken.
"She will witness eternity," Velissara murmured.
All was silence, except for the low groan of Satya. He opened one eye. Blood crusted his face. His hand crawled forward, desperate to reach Vaidehi.
"She's too strong..."
"You must survive," Oorja whispered in his mind.
"You still have a future to create."
"But... they'll die," Satya responded. "Yug… Vaidehi… everyone…"
"Have faith in the one who watches over you all."
Then, the wind shifted.
A shadow moved.
Vayunanda had entered the battlefield.
The President of the DDA, master of a thousand battles, stood like a titan carved from lightning and silence. His hair danced with the wind, his cloak ragged with scars of time. In his right hand was the Trisula, humming with cosmic resonance—the divine weapon only granted to the chosen. Its edges cut both magic and karma.
Velissara turned slowly. "Ah... you."
"You are beyond your prime."
Vayunanda chuckled, stepping forward. "My prime is the war I live through, not the one I fight in."
She frowned. "You will die."
"I know," he whispered. "But not before I teach time a lesson."
The Last Stormbringer
Vayunanda raised his left hand. Ancient mudras formed in the air—each gesture unlocked spells from the beginning of creation. As if weaving from the threads of Brahma's own loom, he created an Astral Net, trapping Velissara's time-bending body between dimensions.
"Agni-Varsha!"
A meteor shower descended from the heavens, forged from the flames of tapasya. Velissara weaved between dimensions, blinking through timelines, but he followed. He had memorized her rhythm, calculated her chaos. Every flicker of her existence was like music to him, and he danced within it like an ancient sage-warrior.
Next came the Wind-Lock Seal—an enchantment that twisted space, freezing her temporal shifts.
She responded with Chrono-Eclipse, plunging the battlefield into void-light, trapping him in a paradox.
But Vayunanda shattered it with his Lightning-Forged Mantra, chanting, "Indra's Wrath: Twelvefold Thunder Roar!"
Velissara was hit mid-escape. She staggered. Time quaked. Realities flickered like broken mirrors.
"He's... holding his own," Vaidehi whispered mentally.
"He's more than that," Oorja responded. "He's rewriting the battle's fate."
Satya's blurry eyes watched, admiration blazing through pain.
"He's... a legend."
"Yes," Oorja said. "The last Rishi-Warrior of Bharat."
Then Vayunanda cast the Divya Raksha Mandala, a protective divine geometry to shelter Satya, Yug, and Vaidehi's frozen body.
He roared a thousand-year war cry, a battle sound heard only once every Yuga.
Velissara summoned her Timeline Loop—a recursive matrix that restored her every time she was wounded.
"Even gods cannot end me!" she cried.
Vayunanda smiled.
He planted the Trisula into the ground and chanted.
"Trimurti Sankalana... Maha Moksha Drishti."
His third eye opened.
"No..." Oorja whispered. "He's going to use it."
"What?" Satya asked.
"The blessing of Mahadev—the Third Eye of Destruction."
The world stopped.
Even Velissara's time magic bent in fear. Echoes fled. Dimensions cried. Every version of her across the timelines burned into white ash. Her loop cracked. Her form staggered. Her scream was both ancient and unborn.
"My backups... my future... everything... gone," Velissara choked.
"You were powerful," Vayunanda whispered. "But you forgot the cost of immortality."
His body trembled, weakened by the divine backlash.
But he smiled.
He whispered the last mantra of his life:
"Trimurti Sankalana—Trisula Moksha."
With his final strength, he hurled the Trisula like the thunderbolt of Rudra.
It pierced through Velissara's heart, consuming her in fire.
"He... is... coming…" she gasped.
Then she vanished. Disintegrated.
End of Time
Silence.
Satya lay in blood. Vaidehi collapsed beside him. Yug remained unconscious. Vayunanda dropped the broken haft of his weapon.
But they had won.
The Time Loops were no more.
Satya looked up.
"He... saved us."
Vaidehi cried, her voice hoarse. "He carried the weight... of all timelines."
Oorja whispered:
"This was not the end. This was only the passing of a flame... to you, Satya."
And from the ashes of the battlefield, destiny stirred again.