"In unity, strength. In conflict, destiny."
Darkness.
Then light.
Then nothing.
Devsena and Avantika stood suspended in a vast, mirror-like realm — no sky, no earth, just endless reflections of themselves. But the reflections weren't… right.
One version of Devsena had blood-soaked armor, eyes burning with fury. Another Avantika stood serenely atop waves, but behind her, destruction followed like a shadow.
A voice echoed from all directions:
"To wield Tatva is to know thyself. To fight the storm within before facing the chaos without."
A circular arena emerged beneath their feet — half flame, half water. Opposites. Boundaries. Challenge.
They were not being asked to fight each other—they were being forced to fight their own inner selves.
Avantika's doppelganger sneered, her song warping into haunting cries that shattered the air.
Devsena's clone laughed, wielding dual swords of obsidian fire, radiating rage without restraint.
Both real sisters looked at each other.
"We're not enemies," Avantika whispered, clutching the pendant Arjuna had gifted her.
"But our fears are," Devsena replied, eyes focused, the flames on her palm intensifying.
The battles began.
Avantika fought the guilt of abandonment — the voice of the ocean roaring, "You left her. You were the weaker one!" But she sang — a melody not for victory, but for peace. The water calmed.
Devsena faced her wrath — the fire inside her asking, "Will you always destroy what you love?" But she lowered her sword and said, "I choose control. Not chaos."
The illusions cracked.
The arena collapsed into a thousand shards, and the sisters fell—into each other's arms, breathless but awakened.
As they landed softly back near the Pralay Kund, the voice returned:
"The Dvandva has passed the first trial. But the storm hasn't ended. It has only begun."
Above them, clouds swirled violently, forming a symbol they had seen only once before—in Vrinda's diary.
A prophetic seal—and it was broken.