A voice drifted through the noise.
"Hey, kid." spoke a mysterious figure wearing a hat, gloves, and a white mask
Bhagya turned, curiosity flickering in his eyes like candlelight.
Vishnu stood nearby, absorbed in the ticking of ancient clocks—unaware.
"Uncle... did you call me?"
A man crouched. His smile was too wide, too soft. His clothes—too clean for the slums. His voice dripped sugar, but no soul.
"Yeah, I did. What's your name, little one?"
"My full name is Bhagyavidhata, but everyone calls me Bhagya."
The man's smile twitched unnaturally, then returned.
"Well, Bhagya... ever had chocolate?" like he knew he never had one
"Chocolate?" Bhagya blinked.
"The sweetest thing you'll ever taste. Want one?"
A shiny wrapper shimmered between his fingers. A scent—rich, foreign—wrapped around Bhagya's nose.
"I like sweet things..." Bhagya whispered.
He leaned in, the tip of his tongue brushing against the candy.
A strange sweetness spread across his taste buds—too sweet, almost metallic.
He licked again, slower this time, as if testing something foreign and dangerous.
And then—
The world began to distort.
The ground rippled like water under his feet.
The sky bent inward, colors melting into one another like a dying canvas.
A deafening silence swallowed everything. His heartbeat slowed, echoing unnaturally loud in his ears.
His vision fractured—shards of light breaking apart, spinning around him like shattered glass.
A cold wave crawled down his spine. His knees buckled.
The air grew thick, impossible to breathe.
His body trembled, fingers twitching uncontrollably, and then—
The sky collapsed.
It felt like gravity flipped. The horizon folded into itself, pulling him down into a spiraling abyss.
The candy slipped from his hand, falling in slow motion, glistening like a cursed jewel.
His body gave out.
He crashed to the ground, vision fading to white, as if the entire world had been swallowed by nothingness.
"The last thing Bhagya saw was the man's smile—a crescent of shadow—and then the world went black as he was lifted like a broken doll."
The man walked away, calm and steady.
People saw.
They watched.
but No one helped.
A woman sold vegetables
A vendor counted coins.
A rickshaw driver adjusted his fare meter.
Only the street dogs barked—feral and furious, as if trying to raise the dead.
The man glanced at them.
"Loyal creatures... Maybe I'll play with you next."
He disappeared into the fog.
With fate in his hands.
— Darkness Falls —
Bhagya's Eyes Opened—Slowly.
The world around him was dim, choked in a thick, metallic stench. Every breath scraped against his throat like rusted iron.
His arms were numb. Cold. Bound by metallic ropes that coiled around his wrists and ankles like serpents of steel.
He shifted slightly, the chains rattling with a cruel echo.
And then... he saw them.
In the far corners of the room, slumped against the wall like forgotten laundry, were shapes.
A cracked skull, half-buried in dust.
A leg bone stripped clean but still wearing the faint outline of a child's sandal.
A ribcage—broken, as if something had clawed through it.
Bhagya blinked, confused.
"Why are there toys lying around...?"
He tilted his head. One shape had what looked like hair—dry, matted, long. But no face.
Something in him trembled, but his mind couldn't piece it together.
"These people must've... fallen asleep? Why didn't they go home?"
His lip quivered.
He looked away.
His small heart knew something was wrong.
But his innocent mind hadn't yet learned the language of death.
"Uncle... why am I here?" he whimpered. "Please let me go to my father..."
Two shadows emerged, men grinning with twisted delight.
"Should we kill you fast... or should we take our time?" one of them asked with a annoyed look.
Bhagya blinked, confused. His childlike innocence couldn't comprehend the danger.
"C-Can we talk after? I have to go back to my father..."
The response was a violent kick to his ribs.
He cried out—pain searing through his small body. His body was burning like someone took everything out of his body
"Why? Why are you doing this? I didn't do anything..." he sobbed.
"You were born. That's enough," one man sneered.
"You're a Non-Corruptor, aren't you?" the other growled, pressing his boot into Bhagya's stomach.
"I—I..... don't know what that is! My father's friend gave me these clothes...ahh my stomach, it hurts."
The men froze. Like statues and spoked
"Then we'll kill your father too," one muttered.
"Quickly. We need his organs intact," the other added, picking up a chainsaw.
"No! Please! I don't want to die!" Bhagya cried.
thoughts were filling his chest like he is carrying weight in it
— Inner Monologue of Bhagya —
What did I do wrong?
Why am I so weak?
I'm always being protected... never the one who protects.
It hurts. My chest feels like it's caving in.
My limbs are trembling. My mind—breaking.
Is this it? Is this where it ends for me?
I wanted to see my parents one more time...
I don't want to die.
Please... someone help... someone...
— Divine Intervention —
The glass window shattered.
Two figures burst through—tall, cloaked in fury.
Bhagya recoiled, trembling.
More people here to hurt me...? said Bhagya as he cried with full force
But then—
"Bhagya!!"
His eyes widened. Like someone gave medicine to his injuries
Hope returned.
"Father! Please—save me!" he sobbed.
From the shadows emerged Vishnu, the man who sought to defy fate—and Kira, general of the divine army.
They stood before the butchers.
The Rebels... versus the Rot.
The chainsaw dropped—not out of fear, but because the man's hand was already severed before he realized it.
"AAAAAAGHHH!! MY HAND—WHERE'S MY HAND?!" he screamed.
Blood sprayed. Panic rose.
Root Chakra: Activated.
The other man picked chainsaw and walked towards his partner— to help him
"Yesss..." the second man grinned, "Cut them. Crush their hopes!"
but instead, The blade pierced his partner's gut with brutal efficiency.
Vishnu's Inner Monologue
It's working... The Root Chakra—just like the voice told me.
Their minds... so fragile... I can touch them. Bend them.
The authority pulses through my veins—not like power, but like truth.
These people... they have no anchor. I can guide their will like drifting leaves.
No... like a storm.
But what does that make me?
— Revelation —
Vishnu, stunned, turned to Kira.
"Who are they? Why did they kidnap Bhagya?"
Kira replied, calm and cold:
"They're Non-Corruptors. They kidnap people... harvest organs... sell them."
But then—
The man, free of Vishnu control now bleeding, cried out:
"You really think this was just about organs...? You're more blind than—"
SHHK—
Kira decapitated him mid-sentence.
"You said too much, moron."
The head dropped like a stone.
Vishnu rushed to Bhagya.
"My son... I'm here."
But then—
SPLASH.
"Vishnu reached for his son, his fingers trembling with hope—
and fate answered not with mercy,
but with a spray of blood so warm it burned."
Blood sprayed.
Bhagya stared, dazed.
"Father...? What happened?"
His small voice trembled.
He had no idea what fate had just been chosen—for them both.
"He reached for his son with hands still warm with hope—only for fate to greet him not with mercy, but with the cold splash of blood."
To be continued....