Om stood still, his gaze lingering on the crystalline reflection of his second self, before the shimmering figure finally dissolved into a thin thread of light and sank into the space between his brows. The presence was gone, sealed within him, but not erased. He could feel it — like a heartbeat not his own, like a second rhythm layered beneath his own pulse.
For the first time in days, his chest loosened, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Relief. A rare luxury.
"Zero," Om murmured inwardly, his voice steady but his thoughts racing. "You're sure… this body, this copy, it can't use Vajra Kaya? Or Grutva Akarshan? None of the inheritances?"
Zero's tone was calm, unwavering, like the toll of a great bell in his mind.
> [Affirmative. The clone body is a perfect cellular copy, but at a molecular level it is crystalline. The structure does not allow inheritance pathways. Only physical growth is possible.]
Om nodded faintly, almost to himself. "Good." He hadn't realized how much weight the possibility carried until it was lifted. The idea of someone — even if it was himself — sharing his inheritance, sharing the fragile, broken gift that had become both curse and salvation, gnawed at him. This truth, at least, was a comfort.
"Then what of others?" Om pressed. His brows furrowed. "How do I explain it? If someone sees… if this secret is dragged out—"
Zero interrupted with clinical precision.
[Solution available.]
[The clone body is similar to the Seismic Drum in essence like an artifact. It can be stored within your consciousness.]
[If revelation is required, you may claim it is part of your inheritance. Few will doubt it.]
The words carried a kind of cold finality, like a strategy already calculated and discarded countless times until only the optimal path remained.
Om's lips curled into a faint, weary smile. "You make it sound so simple."
[It is.]
The crystalline twin shimmered one last time in his vision before condensing into a wisp of golden light. The light swirled in intricate arcs — Sanskrit characters etched in radiant brilliance — before it sank into his forehead. A faint warmth settled there, and the sensation of two pulses beat softly in the back of his skull.
It was done.
.
.
.
.
He turned from the now-dry pond, its waters vanished, leaving only cracked stone and silence in its wake. Whatever had slumbered here, whatever had called the beasts to gather by the thousands, had fed him something he could neither name nor understand. Yet, instinct told him this was not an end. The pond was empty, but its secret remained.
Om shook his head. He could not linger.
Dawon lay sprawled near the edge of the cavern, his massive frame rising and falling with slow breaths. Dev was crumpled against the beast's flank, lips parted, face pale. Om approached, his steps quiet yet purposeful.
"Wake."
He placed a hand against Dawon's mane. Golden light pulsed beneath his palm, like warmth flowing from memory into flesh. Dawon stirred first. The lion's eyelids flickered, and with a low rumble that reverberated through the cavern, he opened his golden eyes. They locked onto Om immediately, recognition and loyalty glowing within.
"Up," Om commanded softly.
Dawon obeyed, stretching its scarred limbs and rising with deliberate slowness. Its presence had only grown heavier. Om could feel the subtle shift: Dawon's strength had edged higher, more stable, more dangerous. Perhaps it, too, had influence from the wellspring in this cave.
"Dev." Om turned, kneeling briefly beside the boy. His hand pressed Dev's shoulder, firm but not harsh.
The boy stirred, groaning faintly, before blinking awake. His first sight was Om, and relief washed over his tired face.
"You're awake," Dev muttered, half-dazed.
"How long…?"
"Long enough," Om replied curtly, pulling him upright. He didn't elaborate. There was no time to.
A sound cracked the air — not a growl, not a roar, but the collective stirring of a horde.
The cavern shuddered as tens of thousands of beasts, great and small, began to rouse. Their bodies shifted, their claws scraped stone, their wings rustled in agitation. One moment before, they had been silent, submerged in unnatural slumber. Now their eyes opened in unison, and chaos surged like a tidal wave waiting to break.
Dawon's head snapped toward them. With a deep, primal instinct, he raised his head high and unleashed a roar.
The sound shook the cavern walls. Golden Sanskrit characters erupted across Dawon's body, swirling like living fire. His roar carried the weight of command — absolute submission.
The cavern stilled. For a heartbeat, Om thought it might work. Tens of thousands of eyes flickered, wavered, hesitated—
Then the silence broke.
The beasts answered with a cacophony of snarls and bellows, their frenzy spilling over as they lunged at one another, at the cavern walls, at anything within reach. The air split with claws and fangs, with the thunder of bodies crashing against each other.
"Not working," Om muttered grimly, his eyes narrowing.
Zero's voice crackled in his mind, precise even against the chaos.
[Observation: Dawon's absolute submission ability may be limited by scope.]
[Against individuals or small groups, effectiveness is found high.]
[Against a mass of this scale, probability of failure exceeds ninety-nine percent.]
Om's jaw clenched. "Then it's useless here."
[Correction: Not useless. Insufficient.]
[Solution: Retreat before escalation exceeds survivability threshold.]
Om didn't need convincing. His instincts screamed the same truth. If they stayed, they would be torn apart, swallowed whole by the avalanche of violence.
He turned sharply. "Dawon — Dev. On your feet. We're leaving."
Dawon bent low. Om hauled Dev up, throwing the boy onto the lion's back before mounting behind. His hand gripped Dawon's mane, and his eyes flicked once more to the chaos spilling out across the cavern.
The beasts were tearing into one another, claws raking flesh, fangs snapping bone. The sound was deafening, a storm of violence that shook the air itself. Yet not a single one of them turned toward Om's small group. Not yet. But they would.
"Run."
Dawon lunged forward, paws striking stone with thunderous force. The lion's body was a blur of muscle and fire, weaving between beasts, leaping over carcasses, tearing past walls as the cavern erupted behind them.
The roar of battle faded, distance growing, but in Om's mind a question gnawed like an unhealed wound.
Why?
Why had every beast in the forest, from the smallest crawler to the greatest predator, gathered here in silence? Why had they all slept beside that pond? What force had called them, lulled them into stillness, only to release them in madness when the pond ran dry?
And why… why had the water created another him?
His fists tightened against Dawon's mane. The questions piled like stones in his chest, and the weight of them threatened to crush him.
"Zero." His voice was a low growl in his own mind. "Why were they here? What drew them?"
For once, Zero did not answer with its usual immediacy. There was a pause, long enough that Om felt the sting of silence.
When the reply came, it was simple.
[Insufficient data.]
Om's teeth clenched. He hated those words. He hated the cold emptiness of them, hated that even with Zero in his head, with his broken inheritance, with all the fragments of power he had clawed together, the truth still eluded him.
His eyes burned as he stared into the dark tunnel ahead, Dawon's stride carrying them out of the cavern's suffocating chaos.
For now, they had escaped. But the question remained, a blade hanging over his neck.
Why were all the beasts of the forest drawn to the pond?
The answer lay hidden still.