The skies turned ink-black. The dagger, once glowing with unity, now lay split into two jagged halves — one engulfed in embers, the other dripping with spectral water. The moment the Oath was sealed, something ancient had stirred.
Avantika staggered back, her heart racing. "What was that shadow?"
Vrinda's voice was hoarse. "Not what… who."
She looked up, her face pale with fear. "Kaalchakra… the timeless warden. The guardian of fate. The one who was never meant to return."
Above the Temple
The shadow took form — a cloaked figure with no face, only a swirling vortex of sand and stars where his head should be.
Time itself warped around him. Flowers bloomed and withered. Stones cracked and reformed.
"The Dvandva Prophecy has been triggered," the figure boomed.
"You seek balance, but balance cannot exist without chaos."
Devsena stepped forward, sword drawn, defiant.
"We made the vow. We will not let you destroy Tatva."
But Kaalchakra raised his arm, and in an instant, time bent — Devsena froze mid-step, her body suspended like a puppet in glass.
Avantika screamed, "Let her go!"
The shadow turned to her. "Only one twin may rewrite fate. The other… is meant to fall."
The Visions Begin
As Devsena was released, the dagger fragments flared — burning into their hands, pulling them into separate visions.
Avantika found herself in a realm of endless ocean. The water whispered her name. A giant wave rose, taking the shape of a woman with her face.
"You are not just water," the wave said. "You are memory. You are song. But will you drown in it or rise above?"
Devsena stood in a battlefield of ash. A thousand versions of herself fought — some victorious, some fallen. One looked at her with dead eyes and whispered:
"To save your sister… you may have to burn everything."
The Countdown Begins
Back in the real world, Vrinda held the prophecy scroll — new lines now glowing.
"Three trials await the daughters of flame and tide.
One of heart, one of blood, one of time.
Fail, and Kaalchakra shall bind the world in eternal dusk."
The temple bells rang without wind.
The ground cracked.
And far away, in a forgotten forest…
Arjuna awoke with a start, a mark glowing on his chest — the shape of an eclipse.
The war was no longer coming.
It had already begun.