"Are the rumours real?" Dhanudanda's voice broke the heavy silence that had settled in the chamber. His question wasn't directed at any single person—it lingered in the air, inviting speculation, fear, and denial.
"We don't know anything for certain," Rudra replied, leaning forward. "That temple is in ruins. What treasure could possibly remain?"
Savignya, seated calmly, tilted her head as if sorting through memories older than most wars. "The temple is said to guard a power so ancient, so immense, it could upend the reality of the mandala. A power beyond comprehension, not meant for ordinary hands."
Parashar, skeptical but attentive, asked, "Are you one hundred percent sure that this temple contains such a force?"
Savignya nodded slowly. "The source of the power was once housed within it. But it was stolen. Do you remember the massacre in Jangal Mandala? The assassination of their king?"
Kritipal sat up straighter. "Of course. That bloodshed was infamous. Are you saying that entire event happened just for this so-called power? Who took it? What even was it? And where is it now?"
Savignya exhaled. Her eyes didn't blink as she began to speak. "A shadow came for the temple, an intruder cloaked in purpose. The Vanmargi tribes resisted fiercely. They nearly overwhelmed the intruder. But then, King Aaranyak was slain by betrayal. Once he fell, their resistance broke. The enemy moved forward and laid waste to Aghorvan. The temple was desecrated in the process. And though the intruder took something... the temple's heart still pulses with remnants of that power."
She let that settle. "But retrieving it is not easy. There are layers, filters, conditions that must be met. Knowledge, technique, and something... deeper."
"You sound like someone who believes in the Great Puranas," Dhanudanda said with a chuckle, trying to break the tension.
Savignya looked at him. Dead serious.
The laugh in Dhanudanda's throat dried instantly.
"Wait. Are you saying those stories are real?" he stood up, pacing a little. "I've seen magic. I've seen the unnatural. I even believe in races people call myths. But this... this is too far. The Puranas are stories. They're meant to teach, to frighten, to inspire, but not to be believed literally."
Still, Savignya said nothing.
Kritipal moved closer to her. "Are you saying the Great Puranas—the ancient scriptures—are literal history? That they hold truth?"
"Maybe," Savignya said quietly. "Not in their entirety. But fragments. Glimpses of truths wrapped in fable. We've all seen what Rankriti can do on the battlefield. She is not alone. What do you think gives them such powers?"
Parashar rubbed his temples. "You do understand what you're implying? That our understanding of history and power is incomplete. If what you're saying is true, then someone like Sarthak—who's after that power—could rise beyond all of us."
"Not could. Will, if left unchecked," Savignya added. "And he's not working alone. Sarthak is no fool. He wouldn't make such a move without backing."
Dhanudanda folded his arms. "Let's say you're right. Let's say some of this is true. Then our entire world—the Yamsabha, Rankriti, the Triad—it's all built on a fragile lie."
Savignya smiled faintly. "Exactly."
There was a long silence.
Parashar finally broke it. "We need to stay grounded. We don't have the full truth yet. But if Sarthak is chasing a legend with a real trail, then this could reshape all power structures. Our focus, however, must remain practical. If he's after that power, he'll make more moves. And we'll be forced to respond."
He looked toward the twins and Ashvapati. "Raghav, Rudra, Ashvapati. You know what needs to be done. Our cities must be defended, and we must learn everything about Sarthak's movements. Where he is. Who's aiding him. What he's planning. Spread your networks. Activate Chorpatta. No loose ends."
The trio exchanged a glance and nodded. They were already ahead. Chorpatta was in motion.
Savignya stood up slowly. "If the temple still holds fragments of that power, Sarthak will not stop until he extracts them."
"And if he does?" asked Kritipal.
"Then Mandala will never be the same again," she answered.
The chamber fell into silence again, a silence no one dared to break easily.