The sky wasn't supposed to bleed.
But as Astha, Luv, and Naira looked upward from the shattered law-tower, they saw crimson threads begin to seep through the white-gold veil of Swarnalok's heavens—like veins tearing through the skin of a dying god.
Each droplet that fell sizzled on contact with the air, burning through divine metal and silken sky as if the world itself were unworthy of its touch.
"That's not blood," Naira murmured.
"That's severed essence. Something's breaking through."
"A god?" Luv asked.
"No," Astha replied, tightening Smritidhaara around his arm.
"Something they locked away."
---
The Golden Chamber
Their ascent brought them to a vast amphitheater glowing in false sunlight, cast by artificial stars held within suspended spheres. The floor was layered with memory-sand—shimmering gold that whispered echoes of the past with each step.
Inscribed across the walls were thousands of names—gods, avatars, heroes, forgotten beings—each name carved into a bone taken from their remains.
At the center, floating in stillness, sat a monolithic disc: a seal forged by ten pantheons, infused with laws not just of divinity, but of reality itself.
"That's the gate," Naira said.
"The Sealed Sky."
"Behind it," Astha said, "...is something they don't want us to see."
---
As they stepped forward, a shadow peeled itself from the wall.
It didn't walk.
It glided, like silk floating through oil.
A figure emerged—seven arms, blindfolded face, no mouth, its body draped in time-touched armor woven from the feathers of fallen Garuda and the spines of naga.
In each hand: a different weapon from a different mythology—Mjölnir, the Staff of Moses, the Spear of Longinus, the Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi… each forged in divine myth.
"That's the Saptadhaari," Naira whispered.
"The Keeper of Locked Skies. It wields what gods left behind."
"Then we take it down," Luv said.
"No," Astha said calmly.
"We learn from it."
---
The battle began with a blur.
The Saptadhaari moved faster than thought. One arm struck with thunder, another with plague, another with memory. Each blow echoed with the voice of a different god.
Luv dashed ahead—his storm now honed, refined, no longer wild. He absorbed the thunder-strike, redirecting it through his armor into a railgun punch that shattered one of the guardian's blades.
But the severed arm simply vanished—replaced by another.
Naira moved through the golden sand, her footsteps silent. She whispered the First Scream into the Blade of Compassion and sliced through a gap in time, pausing the guardian for three seconds.
"Astha! Now!"
---
Ashvaanta gleamed with black fire as Astha summoned it from a tear in space. The sword didn't just hum—it howled, as if recognizing the challenge before it.
Astha launched forward, Smritidhaara coiling, Ashvaanta dragging sparks from the air behind it.
He struck—
—And Ashvaanta cleaved through existence.
The Saptadhaari's central core—a divine heart formed from crystallized prayers—shattered, releasing a wave of pure, ancient fear across the chamber.
The golden sand scattered.
The weapons fell.
The Sealed Sky began to crack.
---
As the dust cleared, a thin, spiraling fracture ran through the floating disc.
From within it, a sound emerged—not a voice, not a scream, but a vibration that made their bones ache and their thoughts blur.
A concept trying to enter language.
They all felt it.
"What... is that?" Luv asked, stepping back.
"A wound in reality," Naira whispered.
"Something predates the gods. Something they tried to bury."
Astha stared, silent.
Then… the seal burst.
The explosion was silent—no noise, only absence. A light too dark to see burst from the disc, warping the air.
A figure stepped through.
Not massive. Not glowing. Just tall, humanoid, draped in black robes woven from night.
No face.
Just a smooth, maskless void.
But the pressure was unbearable.
Even Ashvaanta vibrated.
"Is it a god?" Luv asked.
"No," Astha said, narrowing his eyes.
"It's the Herald."
---
The being raised a single hand.
The stars above flickered.
"You are trespassers," the Herald said, voice echoing in three layers—past, present, and what-should-not-be.
"You have unraveled what was sealed to protect you."
"You mean protect yourselves," Astha replied.
"Who are you to judge what we can know?"
"I do not judge," the Herald said.
"I only erase."
Its hand pointed forward.
The world shook.
The gods began to awaken.
---
Astha Doesn't Flinch
Ashvaanta hovered beside him, Smritidhaara wrapped around his waist like a viper ready to strike.
Astha stepped forward. Wind howled around him. Flames rose at his feet.
"You erased my people," he said.
"Their memory was a danger," the Herald replied.
"I don't care what they threatened," Astha said.
"I care that they mattered."
Behind him, Luv's armor surged with thunder again.
Naira's blade pulsed like a heartbeat.
"You erased wrong things," Astha growled.
"Now I'm erasing you."