Chapter 5 - Chapter 5:The Pulse of Destiny

In the boundless expanse of the multiverse, magic churns like a living storm, its currents weaving realms beyond counting. A tremor ripples through the cosmic tide—a pulse of destiny, raw and unformed, breaking free to carve a path through the stars. It surges past galaxies, drawn to a pale blue world spinning quietly in the void, its light narrowing as it pierces the dawn. On Earth, a universe crafted by Brahma devoid of magical power, that pulse flares briefly in the morning sky, a shimmer of otherworldly light dancing across the clouds. The coastal city below stirs, unaware, as sunlight spills over rooftops and streets. In southern India, where life hums with vibrant chaos, the gates of Suryan College creak open to welcome the morning crowd. Through a narrow lane, a young woman pedals her bicycle with reckless speed. "Outta my way! I'm late!" she shouts, weaving through pedestrians with the agility of someone far too practiced at this chaotic routine. Her name is Tanvi—twenty, sharp-eyed, and perpetually late. Her long black hair streams behind her like a silken banner, her beauty rivaled only by the relentless pace of her life. As she nears the college gate, the security guard sighs, shaking his head. "Can't you ever arrive early, Tanvi?" "Sorry!" she calls over her shoulder, already speeding past. The guard mutters under his breath. She always says sorry, but he's long given up expecting to hear it in time. Tanvi veers toward the entrance, nearly colliding with a boy standing motionless in her path. He's frozen, hands clenched at his sides, dark eyes flickering with hesitation. His tense frame radiates a silent urge to flee, yet his feet remain rooted. Tanvi brakes just in time, her front wheel halting inches from his legs. She frowns, puzzled, sensing a faint echo of that cosmic pulse lingering in the air around him. The moment passes. Shaking her head, Tanvi rolls past, parks her bicycle, and strides through the college entrance without a backward glance. The boy remains, staring at the ground, as if the weight of the universe holds him in place. Far away, in a divine realm untouched by time, great halls stretch across the sky, their pillars etched with the wisdom of countless ages. Within one such chamber, the god Orven steps slowly toward the great divine chair, his expression heavy. His body, restored by the goddess Virelya, keeper of restoration, bears no scars from the war with Dragonlord three days ago. But his spirit remains burdened. He sinks into the chair, eyes downcast, mind clouded. From the far side of the chamber, a calm voice breaks the silence. "What troubles you, Orven?" Brahma, the god of creation, sits composed, his long white hair flowing like light over his shoulders. Though he appears aged, his smooth skin and steady silver eyes defy time. He watches Orven with quiet intensity. Orven doesn't answer immediately. His fingers tighten around the arms of the chair. "I'm worried about Dragonlord," he says at last, his voice low and taut. Brahma's brow lifts, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "You? The one who fought him to your last breath? You wanted him nowhere near our universe." Orven meets his gaze briefly, then looks away. "I didn't fight him out of hatred. I fought to protect our realm from what he could unleash. I still fear it." Brahma's amusement fades, replaced by curiosity. "What do you mean?" Orven's eyes darken, haunted. "I saw the future." The air in the chamber grows heavy. Brahma leans forward, his voice steady but urgent. "Speak plainly." Orven hesitates, pain etching his features. "During the war, I saw it—a vision of what's to come. We were never meant to win. Our victory was only a delay." Brahma's expression hardens. "And?" Orven's voice drops to a whisper. "Dragonlord will die soon." Brahma freezes, his silver eyes narrowing. "Impossible." The word tears from Brahma's throat, a challenge to the cosmos itself. His fingers grip the armrest of his divine throne, the golden wood creaking under his tightening grasp. The sound reverberates through the celestial chamber, scattering motes of divine light like startled embers. "No power in existence can kill Dragonlord," Brahma says, his voice shaking the pillars. "You know this!" Orven stands unmoving, his gaze locked on Brahma's with terrible certainty. The silence that follows is heavier than any storm, the air between them charged with the weight of revelation. Brahma's breath catches. The fire in his eyes dims, replaced by dawning horror as the truth takes root. His lips form the word before his voice finds it: "Unless…" The throne room's eternal light seems to flicker as the unspeakable conclusion hangs between them. Orven gives the slightest nod. "It's his family." Brahma leans back, his eyes narrowing as he processes Orven's revelation. The weight of their words settles like a storm on the horizon. "So our realm falls under Aleron's rule now," he says, his voice thick with frustration. "Unless Aleron fights again, we cannot challenge him. It's maddening… and a pity that Dragonlord's end comes this way." Orven remains silent, his expression unreadable as the stillness lingers. Finally, he speaks, his voice low and uncertain. "I know a way to save him, Brahma. But I need your help. It might also help Dragonlord achieve what he seeks… and secure our realm's future." Brahma's interest sharpens. He leans forward, silver eyes glinting with curiosity. "Tell me your plan." Orven hesitates, then speaks softly. "There is a universe you created, isn't there? One hidden from most gods." Brahma's brow furrows, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "How do you know of that? It's a secret, known only to a few." Orven shifts uncomfortably. "Vishnu told me. It's his plan." Brahma's gaze sharpens, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I should have expected as much from him. You mean the Earth's universe, don't you? A realm I crafted without magical power, a delicate balance of mortal life. Sending Dragonlord there is no simple task. His immense magical essence could unravel its very fabric." Orven replies, his voice firm yet cautious. "I know that, but we have another plan." Orven glances toward the side of the entrance. Vishnu enters, his presence a quiet ripple in the divine hall. [End of Chapter 5]