The rooftop trembled beneath Bhagya's feet. The wind clawed at his torn clothes, icy fingers dragging him closer to the edge.
The world blurred—Vishnu's memories tore through his mind like shards of glass, cutting deeper with every breath.
Don't look… don't look at them…
The voice hissed in the cracks of his skull.
But he saw them.
You might go… but you must be alone… so you contacted the glitch… he must die… he can't go there… his dying is inevitable… I thank god Bhagya is alive…
His knees buckled. His breath hitched, trembling like it would collapse into sobs.
"Father… stop… I can't—"
Tears slid down his face, glimmering like shattered jewels in the moonlight.
Bhagya's Thoughts
I can't take it anymore. I don't want to live. What even is living now?
I can't. I can't.
Then—
"You have to live, Bhagya…"
Vishnu's dying voice ripped through his mind like a thunderbolt.
But I'm not strong like you… not even capable of anything…
He ran.
A few staggering steps. The wind roared in his ears, deafening, as if the world itself wanted to see him fall.
And then he jumped.
The air screamed.
The night split open as Bhagya's body plunged, every second stretching like an eternity—like the universe itself was holding its breath.
But—
A shadow tore through the darkness.
A figure caught him mid-air.
Time froze. His heartbeat hammered. Then the moment shattered, and they landed on the rooftop with a heavy thud.
"Why did you save me?! Can't I just die in peace?!" Bhagya screamed, his voice breaking into sobs as he glared up at her.
Rina's cold eyes burned through him. She landed softly, still holding him like a burden, then tossed him to the ground.
Thud!
"Ahh! It hurts…" Bhagya groaned, the sting flooding through his spine.
"Feel that pain?" Rina's voice was steel—sharp, unyielding. "Death is worse. It doesn't end—it only spreads."
"But… but there's nothing after dying!" Bhagya's voice cracked, tears streaming down his face. "Just let me die already!"
"You didn't save Father… so why me? Why me?!"
Rina's face hardened. Without warning, she kicked him in the stomach.
"Who even wants to save you?" she spat. "You're pathetic. So damn pathetic. If you weren't so dear to Papa, I would've left you to rot."
She crouched, her whisper slithering like venom:
"Only if you weren't… the glitch."
The word echoed in his head like shattered glass.
The glitch.
Bhagya froze. His breath hitched, and suddenly the night wasn't silent anymore.
The glitch… you contacted the glitch… glitch… glitch… glitch…
The voices bled into his ears, a distorted chorus crawling through his skull like static.
He clutched his head, shaking violently.
"Stop… STOP!"
But they didn't.
He must die… the glitch cannot go there… glitch… glitch…
Bhagya's nails dug into his scalp as if he could rip the whispers out. His vision spun—
The rooftop rippled like water.
The moon fractured like a mirror struck by a hammer. The world itself warped, bending around him.
"Bhagya…?" Rina's tone faltered, unease flickering across her face.
His breathing turned wild, erratic. "Why… why is it calling me that?!"
The voices only grew louder, buzzing like broken machinery:
Glitch… glitch… glitch…
Rina's hand twitched, as if to reach for him, but she hesitated.
"So… it's starting." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Papa was right… You really are connected to it."
The rooftop door creaked open.
A tall, shadowed figure stepped out—his presence colder than the night wind.
Before Bhagya could react, the man knelt beside him, pulling out a syringe glinting under the fractured moonlight.
"What… what are you doing?" Bhagya's voice trembled. "What's that?!"
He tried to crawl backward, fear and rage tangling inside him.
"If that's poison, give it to me! Let me do it! I'll end it myself—just don't save me for no reason!"
The man's voice was calm, but sharp, like a blade grazing skin:
"Shut up, kid."
With one swift motion, he grabbed Bhagya's arm.
"No! Get off me—" Bhagya thrashed, his breath breaking into ragged gasps.
The needle pierced his skin.
A cold burn spread through his veins.
"No… no… I don't want—" His words blurred, each syllable drowning under the pull of anesthesia.
The rooftop tilted, the world dimming like a dying flame.
His last sight was Rina's face—hard, unreadable—and the man's distant voice, heavy like stone:
"Sleep. We'll talk when you wake."
Then—darkness.
Bhagya woke up with a violent jolt.
"Huh? Where… what's going on?"
He scanned the dim room, realizing he was lying on an unfamiliar bed. His heartbeat quickened. He swung his legs off the mattress.
"I need to talk to them. What's happening to me?!" His voice cracked. "Why is everyone calling me… glitch?"
He staggered forward, feet dragging, and pushed open a heavy wooden door.
Heat slammed into him like a wall.
The hall ahead stretched endlessly, suffocating and thick with smoke.
Sacred Flame Lamps burned in endless rows, their flames flickering like hundreds of watching eyes.
The smoke twisted and curled like living shadows, painting the room in hues of red and gold.
In the center, a man sat cross-legged.
His face was hidden beneath a dark veil of shadow. His stillness was so profound it felt unnatural—like he wasn't meditating but listening to something beyond this world.
Bhagya froze. For a moment, a memory stabbed him—
He and Vishnu, sitting like this, were competing to see who could endure the longest. His throat tightened.
With clenched fists, he stepped forward.
The heat grew suffocating. The oxygen thinned. The flames hissed and lashed against his skin like claws.
Finally, he reached the man and yelled, his voice raw:
"Hey, mister! Who are you?! Why am I here?!"
The man's eyes slowly opened.
"Kid," he said in a calm, steady voice. "You're in Papa's house. You can call me that."
"Shut up!" Bhagya's voice cracked with rage. "Why should I call you father? You're NOT him!"
The man tilted his head slightly, unshaken.
"Here, I protect children whose parents… are no longer there for them."
Bhagya's eyes narrowed, anger boiling over.
"Hah! First, you kill them, then you take their kid? You're not a savior… you're just a kidnapper."
Bhagya's Thoughts
What's wrong with this man? First, he kidnaps me, then he does horrible things to Father, and now he pretends to be some saint?
But… could someone so spiritual also be that cruel?
No… no. It's Kira. Kira is the real monster.
I swear I'll kill him. I promise…
Papa was dressed head-to-toe in clothes, as if still hiding his identity.
"I have three questions," Bhagya said, his voice firm, less a request and more a demand.
Papa's calm eyes narrowed slightly. "Go ahead. Ask."
"Why? Just why? I exist? Without Father, there's nothing. Nothing!" Bhagya's voice broke, tears spilling down his face.
"Because you have to take revenge," Papa said, his tone flat but sharp.
Bhagya's Thoughts
Like I'll believe that.
Screw you and Kira. Both of you are equally responsible.
I'll find out everything about both of you—and I'll kill you one day.
"Any other questions?" Papa asked, tilting his head.
"Why does everyone call me glitch?" Bhagya demanded.
"Because you were never meant to exist," Papa said, his tone deepening. "But now, you're the only one surviving."
Bhagya's fists clenched. "What… what does that mean?"
"You'll understand in time," Papa replied. "Until then, practice your power."
The door opened silently.
A small girl walked in, carrying a tray of cups. Her white dress shimmered in the glow of the sacred flames, as though divinity itself had stepped into the room.
"Do you want tea, kid?" Rina asked, her tone sharp and mocking.
But when she turned to Papa, her voice softened instantly, her eyes glowing with joy.
"Papa… do you want tea? Or anything else?"
Bhagya frowned and asked his third question, but Rina interrupted, glaring at him:
"Hey, talk to him politely! He's the founder of the Non-Corruptors. He's divine. He's immortal, with a cursed gem on his forehead. He is—"
Papa raised a hand to silence her.
"My name is Ashwathama," he said, his voice echoing like stone grinding against stone. "Nice to meet you, kid."
The cursed one… with the glitched one.