The fire crackled gently in the hollowed cave beneath the obsidian cliffs of Trinetra Pass, where Lakshya sat cross-legged, his eyes half-closed. Though his body rested, his mind wandered — into stars, into voids, into echoes of a name he had not yet understood.
"Shunyaka..."
It came to him in dreams, as a vibration in silence. Not a sound, but a pressure — like a thousand souls exhaling at once into nothing.
He opened his eyes slowly.
The wind outside was howling now, though the fire didn't flicker. Around him, sacred runes he had carved glowed faint blue on the walls. These were protection seals, gifted by Rivantha, the wandering fire priestess he had saved in the Forest of Screaming Winds.
But even they began to dim, as the night turned strange.
⚔️ The Voice in the Void
A whisper slithered through the stones — not through the ears, but directly into his spine.
"He has awakened... The bearer of Shakti... the one they call Lakshya..."
He stood, back straight, his hand instinctively reaching for the vajra staff he'd been gifted by the Mahakaali monks in Bhairavdweep.
"Who's there?" he asked. His voice echoed oddly, as if the air was thicker than it should be.
Then the fire snapped black.
In that moment, time halted.
Birds froze mid-air outside. The wind silenced. Even the stars seemed paused. Lakshya stood in a world stolen from movement.
And from the center of the cave emerged a presence — not a man, not a ghost, but a shadow wearing time as a cloak.
He had no face, but bore the shape of one — a mouth without sound, eyes like holes punched into creation.
"I am a Herald of the End," it said. "The First Wind of Shunyaka."
🌑 The Herald's Truth
The being did not attack, nor threaten. It revealed.
"Seven of us were born when Creation tried to erase the memory of Nothingness," it said.
"We are not evil. We are not good. We are undoing — a necessary counterpart to everything you are becoming."
Lakshya tightened his grip on the vajra. "And what do you want from me?"
The Herald tilted its non-head. "To warn you. Asmaran is gone, yes. But I am not Asmaran. I am Kshya — the Herald of Time's Decay. And I do not test your illusions. I test your permanence."
The word hit Lakshya like thunder inside his ribcage.
"You will die again. Not now, but again. And again. And eventually, when you grow large enough to touch the heavens, you will see us there — waiting to erase you."
The void-shadow flickered — its body turning to smoke.
"But the war is not yet begun. Learn what you must. Gather your power. For we too are awakening."
And then… he vanished.
🌓 The Flame Reignites
The fire returned, and time resumed. Outside, birds flapped away. The wind returned with its mournful song.
Lakshya stood still, eyes burning with a new understanding.
There were forces far beyond monsters, empires, or even the limits of Mahakaal Lok. There were beings who unwove existence, who devoured destiny itself.
The Heralds were not just guardians of the Mirrors.
They were warnings.
🏹 The Scholar's Scroll
The next day, Lakshya returned to the floating monastery of Yugmantava, where the ancient blind librarian, Bhautik Rishi, awaited him.
Lakshya whispered the name: "Shunyaka."
The old sage froze.
"You heard it…?"
"Yes."
Bhautik took a trembling breath. Then he spoke of the Forbidden Chronicle, hidden in a scroll of fire-kept silk.
In it was written:
"At the birth of reality, the gods wept a single tear into the void. That tear became the First Flame, and with it came life, worlds, and dreams. But what remained… was Shunyaka — the void left behind, sentient, cold, inevitable."
"To balance the birth of gods, came their opposites. Seven Heralds. Seven unmakers. Each tied to a truth the universe fears."
🔓 The Seven Heralds of Shunyaka (Revealed)
Herald Name Theme of Unmaking Power Type
Asmaran Memory, Identity Maya, Dream-Eraser
Kshya Time, Decay Temporal Rot
Rashtor Rage, Chaos Elemental Wrath
Vantar Emptiness, Hunger Void Absorption
Zurnath Madness, Doubt Psychic Corruption
Silithra Silence, Denial Anti-Sound, Logic-Killing
Ugraan Cosmic Regression Anti-Shakti Collapse
🔮 A New Resolve
Lakshya stood at the peak of the temple, the sacred dagger of Rudra in his hand.
The sky above was calm, but he knew — somewhere, the next Herald stirred.
His journey had changed.
He was no longer just chasing power or dreams.
He was being tested by cosmic judgment — and the fate of the multiverse now had his name written in its stars.
"Let them come," he said softly to the sky. "I was born to rewrite my fate... even if I must burn through gods and voids alike."
And so, the wind carried his vow into the heavens, where even the silent watchers of Shunyaka paused… and listened.
To be continued....