The evening after their visit to the Krishna Mandir passed quietly.
Back in the Malhotra household, the chaos had simmered into normalcy — or, at least, something close to it. Dinner was warm and quick. Conversation was light. Shaurya tried sneaking extra gulab jamuns onto his plate while Arnav and Bhavesh mock-argued over which college event they were going to absolutely not attend. Meera and Kavita moved around the kitchen like clockwork, tired but content.
Karan sat silently through it all.
He wasn't one for small talk. And tonight, the usual tension in his jaw hadn't eased, not even slightly.
After dinner, most of the house shut down early. Monday loomed large and cruel, as it always did.
But Karan couldn't sleep.
He tossed. He turned. He stared at the ceiling fan like it had answers. It didn't.
His body felt… uneasy. Like something was off in the air.
He slipped out of bed and left.
---
Outside, the world had turned cold and indifferent — a sky smeared with steel and silence. Karan walked aimlessly through streets dimly lit by orange sodium lights, the city half-asleep around him.
This was one of the few times he had ventured this far on his own. The modern world had never quite fit him. Cars that blinked instead of roared. People glued to small glowing rectangles. Smiles that didn't reach eyes.
He crossed narrow lanes and empty parks, and somehow, his feet took him farther — all the way to the highway edge.
There, he stopped.
Engines screamed and headlights sliced through the dark like speeding arrows.
Karan just stood still, eyes following each passing vehicle like a man looking through time. Somewhere in his mind, Kurukshetra flickered. The clatter of hooves. The smell of sweat and blood. Screams. Silence.
And then —
a muffled cry.
His ears twitched.
It came from the far side of the overpass — sharp, desperate, half-choked. A girl's voice. Then: a scuffle. The thud of something hitting the ground. Laughter — not joyful, but coarse and cruel.
He followed the sound.
Around the shadowed edge of a boundary wall, hidden by the dark, he saw them.
Five boys. Maybe college-age. Their sneakers looked expensive. Their grins looked worse.
One of them had pinned a girl to the corner wall, his hand clamped tight over her mouth. The others stood around, cheering, filming, laughing.
The girl's eyes were wet and wide, her voice crushed into a gasp as she kicked out, scratched, fought to break free.
Something inside Karan snapped.
---
"Enough."
The word cut through the night like a sword unsheathed.
The boys paused, startled.
Karan stepped into the streetlight — tall, dark hoodie, fire burning in his gold-flecked eyes.
"Who the hell are you?" one of them barked. "Walk away, bro. This ain't your business."
Another added with a smirk, "Unless you want a beating."
Karan didn't reply.
He just kept staring — that calm, chilling stare. The same one that once froze armies.
They moved first.
He moved second.
And yet — it was over in moments.
The first came swinging a metal pipe. Karan sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and slammed him against the railing. The second tried to tackle him from behind — Karan kicked back, sharp and brutal. Another went for his neck; Karan ducked, elbowed him in the gut, and let him crumple.
The remaining two ran before they even reached him.
The one holding the girl now stumbled back, bleeding from the nose, and ran with a whimper. The girl slumped to the pavement.
Karan stood, breathing steady. Untouched.
"Go home," he said softly.
The girl — barely able to speak — nodded tearfully and ran.
---
Now alone, Karan leaned against the cold metal barrier and stared up at the sky. Empty stars. Empty street. Heavy heart.
"What kind of world is this, Vasudev?" he whispered.
His voice cracked just a little.
"In our yuga, you came for her. You saved Draupadi's dignity. And those of us who did the wrong or stayed silent … we paid the price. We were cursed, broken, scattered. The crime is the same. But who will save them now?"
A pause.
And then — a voice behind him.
"Draupadi called me, Radheya."
Karan turned.
No one was there.
But the voice echoed again, not in the air — in his mind. Familiar. Timeless.
"In this yuga, neither the sinner nor the victim calls out to me."
Karan closed his eyes, his fists tightening.
The silence that followed wasn't peace. It was fury waiting to burn.
---
FLASHBACK – Sia's POV
Earlier that evening, at the temple.
She hadn't joined in the loud chants or touched the flowers with too much reverence. But when she stood before the idol of Krishna, something inside her went very still.
She stared up at the serene smile carved into dark stone — and it wasn't just a god she saw.
It was her brother.
There was a quiet understanding between them. One that stretched beyond years and lifetimes. One that didn't need words.
"What's next,Kanha bhaiya?Is the end really near now?"she thought.
And maybe, just maybe, the wind rustled the chimes in response.
---
Back in the present...
Karan walked home silently. The streetlight flickered above him like a dying ember.
And far away, a shadow smirked.
---