The Himalayas stood silent beneath the veil of winter. Peaks taller than the imagination pierced the skies, their spines wrapped in endless snow, their roots sunk into forgotten time. The world seemed asleep, preserved in frost and silence. But above one peak—lonely, jagged, a place where few dared to breathe—storm clouds churned violently, as if the mountain itself was summoning heaven's wrath.
And at the center of it sat Ronnie.
Bare-chested, body sculpted like marble, his frame glistened with sweat that froze instantly into a silver sheen of frost. The biting wind gnawed at his skin, yet he did not flinch. His eyes were closed, his lips curved into the faintest smirk, as if daring the storm itself to test him.
Around him, the storm screamed.
Thunder clawed at the sky, lightning painted violent strokes across the black canvas of night. Every strike fell closer and closer, until the very air around Ronnie smelled of ozone and crackling power.
Then—
BOOM!
A bolt of thunder the size of a tree trunk crashed down onto him. Snow for hundreds of meters melted in an instant, exposing black stone. The clouds above swirled, forming a whirlpool of light, and from its heart poured a ceaseless rain of sparks.
The storm cleared.
From its center, Ronnie stood transformed.
Silver armor clung to his body, sculpted plates gleaming in radiant light, each etching of sparks glowing faintly as if alive. In his right hand, he held a weapon that pulsed with divine majesty—the Vajra. A double-ended thunderbolt, its core swirling with endless storms, lightning forever caged and unleashed at once.
The weapon's voice rumbled into the stormy silence. A deep, commanding male tone:
"You have done well, Ronnie. You have learned to control the inheritance of the King of Gods. Your body now bears Indra's mark. But one challenge remains—mastery of your territory and command of your celestial army. Only then will you be complete."
Ronnie rolled his eyes, exhaling frost into the night air.
"Tch. You sound ridiculous like this. What happened to your female voice? I preferred that one."
The Vajra pulsed, arcs of electricity crawling along its edges like veins.
"I am genderless, boy. My voice is but the shape of your mind's expectations. I can speak like this…"
Suddenly, the weapon's tone shifted into a soothing feminine melody.
"…or like this."
Ronnie smirked. "Much better. Stick with this one."
The Vajra crackled in protest.
"No. I'll talk the way I like. I will not bow to the whims of an arrogant brat."
Ronnie sighed, shoulders drooping as if already exhausted. "Fine by me. Do whatever you want."
For a long pause, only the wind howled around them. Then the Vajra's masculine tone returned, firm as thunder:
"Let's test your strength. Let us see how much closer you have come to bridging the gap between you and the man named Raj."
At that name, Ronnie's teeth clenched. His smirk faltered. Raj. The one who had humiliated him. The one whose inheritance carried the smell of death himself. Ronnie could still feel that humiliation he suffered wrapping around his soul, stripping him bare, making him bleed with shame. He also remembers the true depth of strength Raj showed.
That defeat was one thing, but the gap in strength between him and Om was one thing but between him and Ran still burned his heart hotter than lightning.
Ronnie raised his hand.
KRRAAAACK!
A seam split in the air before him. A jagged crack in space itself, lightning pouring from its edges like blood from a wound.
Thunder roared across the peak, shaking snow loose from distant cliffs. Where the bolts struck, the snow evaporated instantly, leaving molten scars of rock.
Without hesitation, Ronnie stepped into the crack.
.
.
.
.
Far away, several miles from the storm-wrapped peak, the earth opened again. The crack split above a wide riverbed—yet the river carried no water. It was dry, its stones exposed, as if some great disaster had stolen its lifeblood centuries ago.
The air itself trembled as Ronnie emerged, his armor humming, arcs of lightning crawling along his silver plates. His boots crunched against the dry stones.
The Vajra's voice echoed beside his thoughts:
"You fought him once, and you were obliterated. You know this. So tell me, how confident are you now?"
Ronnie's lips curved back into their arrogant grin.
"I've learned how to wield you properly. I can control my inheritance better than ever. Right now? We can beat that bastard."
The weapon hummed skeptically.
"Confidence and arrogance are different, Ronnie. One builds. The other blinds."
Ronnie ignored the warning. His eyes, sharp as blades, lifted toward the horizon.
From here, he could see the mountain peak where the river began—except there was no snow, no jagged stone, no peaceful silence. Instead—
A shadow moved.
A massive shape, coiling and writhing, each movement sending tremors through the land. It slithered along the peak, scales shimmering like frozen silver under moonlight, horns spiraling like glaciers, eyes glowing with venomous hunger.
It was a serpent.
But no serpent of mortal size. Its body stretched across the mountain like a living range, its coils wrapping around cliffs, its breath freezing the air itself. The very peak seemed smaller beneath its colossal form.
The riverbed trembled as the colossal serpent shifted its body, scales glinting like frozen obsidian beneath the pale light. Its molten-gold eyes locked onto Ronnie, unblinking, cold, and mocking. A deep hiss escaped its fanged maw, curling into the air like steam.
"So… the little lightning brat dares crawl before me again," the serpent's voice slithered into Ronnie's mind, layered with disdain. Its forked tongue flickered, tasting the storm still clinging to his aura.
"You've grown… louder," it sneered, circling slowly, its massive coils shaking the mountainside. "But strength? Hah… show me if you're more than sparks on snow. Entertain me, boy. Strike. Dance. Prove you're not just a pale shadow of that other one."
The hiss turned into a thunderous laugh, rattling the icy cliffs. Ronnie tightened his grip on Vajra, lightning pulsing in answer.
The serpent's eyes narrowed. "Good. Amuse me—or die."
Ronnie's grin widened. His heart raced—not with fear, but with savage thrill.
"Perfect. Let's see if all this training was worth it."
The Vajra pulsed, storm surging in its core.
"Then fight, Ronnie. Show me if you are truly worthy of the crown… or just another fool who mistakes pride for power."
Ronnie raised the weapon high. Lightning burst from it, splitting the night sky in two, painting the snowy mountains red and white with its brilliance.
The storm had come to the serpent.
The battle was about to begin.