The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Mirrors shattered one by one, as if rejecting reality. Silver dust swirled into the air like smoke rising from ancient memories. Devsena instinctively unsheathed her sword. Avantika tightened her grip on the conch, the water around her fingertips rippling unnaturally.
The masked figure stepped out of the broken mirror—
Not a reflection. Not an illusion. But real. And powerful.
"I've waited long for this moment," he said, voice like thunder wrapped in silk.
"The fire and water… finally stand side by side."
Arjuna stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Who are you?"
The figure tilted his head, amused.
"Names are for the living. Call me… what your ancestors feared: Vritant."
Devsena's eyes widened.
"The one who was erased from the prophecy…"
"Not erased," Vritant growled.
"Buried."
He raised a hand. Instantly, the winds howled. The sea surrounding the island rose in violent waves. The conch in Avantika's hand turned hot, almost burning.
"He's trying to invert your powers," Vrinda's spirit whispered to Avantika.
"He feeds on imbalance."
Devsena stepped between Avantika and Vritant, fire coursing down her arms.
"If you want her, you'll have to go through me."
Vritant laughed, his cloak dancing like shadows.
"That's the plan."
He extended both arms — and suddenly, a circle of elemental energy engulfed them. The island responded. Flames burst from one side, tidal waves crashed from the other. The Dvandva Ritual had begun.
Somewhere beneath the island, in a secret crypt of scrolls, Arjuna found a stone slab glowing with ancient runes. On it:
"When Fire meets Water in rage… the Mask will rise."
"But when they burn for each other instead… the cycle ends."
Arjuna looked up, horrified.
"They can't fight. If they do, he wins!"
Back in the circle, Avantika's water struck Devsena's fire, not out of hatred — but confusion. Vritant laughed louder, twisting their powers.
But then…
Avantika looked at Devsena.
Devsena looked back.
"You're not my enemy," Avantika whispered.
"Neither are you," Devsena said, lowering her flames.
Suddenly, the conch glowed like a star. Fire wrapped around water. Balance returned. And Vritant screamed.
His mask cracked.
And just before he vanished into smoke, he whispered:
"You may have won today… but the second seal still holds. And when it breaks… the Tatva shall shatter."
🌫🌊🔥
The Mask was only the beginning.
Now, the real question remains —
Who sealed Vritant once… and who shall unseal him again?