"You can't kill memory. You can only run from it."
---
8 Years Ago — The Divine Retaliation Begins
The heavens had grown uneasy.
A mortal had survived the Erasure.
A mortal had killed a divine executioner.
A mortal now walked the Pathway to Swarnalok.
And so, the gods didn't send warriors.
They sent avatars — extensions of themselves, forged in mantra and judgment.
Three figures descended upon the mortal realm from the heavenly rift:
Chaturmaas, god of seasons and decay.
Rijudhar, the bronze-armored adjudicator.
Kalikaali, the goddess of finality, draped in lotus-black flame.
They were not here to fight.
They were here to erase the mistake that refused to die.
---
Astha stood atop the Mirror Plains, a desolate place where every step echoed like shattering glass. He'd arrived days before, drawn by instinct — and something deeper. Smritidhaara pulsed violently around his arm, sensing what was coming.
The air changed.
Lightning in slow motion. Mantras whispered without breath.
Then they arrived.
Chaturmaas stepped forward first, smiling like autumn rot.
"You survived death. Admirable. But misplaced."
Rijudhar raised his bronze sword, glowing with the light of judgment.
Kalikaali didn't speak — her black flame ate sound around her.
Astha didn't move.
"Is this justice?" he asked. "Or cleanup?"
Chaturmaas laughed.
"Call it mercy. You are broken, boy. The flame will fade—"
"No."
Astha's voice thundered.
"The flame isn't borrowed. It's born."
---
The Fight – One Against Three Gods
Rijudhar moved first — instant. His blade cut through air like judgment.
But Astha's palm caught it. His eyes glowed. Muscles ripped beneath burned skin.
BOOM!
He flipped Rijudhar by the neck and slammed him through six glass ridges.
Kalikaali threw lotus-black flames — divine death. Smritidhaara pulsed, wrapping around Astha's back like a shield of memory. Each flick of her flame was met with chains that screamed.
"You think divine fire burns deeper than grief?"
"Then let me show you what I buried!"
Astha leapt, spun, and kicked Kalikaali through a mountain.
Then came Chaturmaas.
He aged the battlefield with a gesture — turned the trees to dust, cracked the skies, and tried to rot Astha from the inside.
Astha staggered.
His skin flaked. His breath shortened.
And then…
FWHOOOM.
The White Flame exploded.
Astha screamed not in pain—but in wrath.
His body erupted in radiant heat, not consuming — but reminding. The memories of Aaryavrat's death poured into his muscles. Every punch carried the weight of a name erased.
He struck Chaturmaas once.
And shattered his immortal mask.
---
Aftermath – Divine Retreat
All three avatars were either broken, stunned, or smoldering in defeat.
The gods did not expect this.
They had planned for resistance.
Not for revenge.
Astha stood alone amidst the wreckage, chest heaving, flame still glowing behind his eyes.
He looked to the sky.
"You erased my home.
But I will burn yours.
Brick by golden brick."
---
Return to Present
In the temple ruins, Naira stood frozen.
"You fought three gods... alone?"
"I survived," Astha said again, voice heavy.
"That was enough."
Luv sat silently, thunder curling in his hands like snakes. For once, no words.
The trio stepped away from the altar. The silence wasn't peaceful now — it was purposeful.
The past was no longer just Astha's burden.
It was now theirs to carry too.