The light did not vanish all at once.
It thinned—like mist retreating from a mountain at dawn—slowly withdrawing into the carved heavens above. The blue-white radiance that had flooded the hall softened, dimmed, and finally folded inward, sealing itself within the vast yantra etched into the temple ceiling.
For a long, breathless moment, the world seemed to pause.
The Awakening Hall stood suspended in silence.
Then—
WOOOOOOOMMMMM—
The deep, resonant sound of the Sankham echoed through the chamber.
It was not sharp.
Not violent.
It was ancient.
The vibration rolled across the stone floor, climbed the towering pillars, and sank into the bones of the temple itself—like the final breath of a god withdrawing from the mortal realm.
With that sound, the ritual ended.
The triplets remained seated in their lotus positions upon the stone platform.
They did not move.
They could not.
Something within them had shifted—fundamentally, irrevocably.
Aditya felt it first.
A warmth stirred deep within him, low at the base of his spine. It was steady and alive—not burning, not painful, but aware. Each breath he drew carried weight, as though the air itself acknowledged him. His heartbeat slowed, not from weakness, but from control.
Something ancient had awakened.
Sasi's fingers twitched lightly against his knees. His senses sharpened—every sound clearer, every presence more defined. His heart beat with restrained force, powerful and measured, like thunder waiting behind distant clouds.
Aryan appeared perfectly still.
Yet within him, awareness spread silently—like roots pushing through deep soil. His mind felt balanced, anchored, vast. He did not feel power rising.
He felt harmony forming.
Rishi Vedananda observed them without blinking.
The Sankham rested in his hand, its surface faintly humming with residual chakra. His robes did not move, yet the air around him felt heavier—as though the world itself acknowledged the completion of the rite.
He inclined his head once.
"It is done."
At his words, the final traces of divine light vanished from the ceiling. The yantra above returned to dormant stone, its celestial glow sealed once more beyond mortal sight.
That was when the air behind the triplets shimmered.
Not violently.
Not suddenly.
Softly.
Like moonlight forming upon still water.
Behind Aditya's back, a silver ring emerged.
It floated a short distance from his spine—perfectly circular, thin, and luminous. The metal-like glow was not reflective but radiant, etched with faint cosmic lines that seemed to exist half in the physical world and half beyond it.
The same circle appeared behind Sasi.
And behind Aryan.
Three identical silver chakra circles, suspended in the air, unmoving.
Along the lower rim of each circle, a single symbol ignited.
An Ashoka Chakra.
Small. Precise. Clear.
One mark.
One stage.
The first awakening.
A ripple of restrained awe passed through the witnesses.
Duke Varesh drew a sharp breath.
Even he—who had seen awakenings before—felt his chest tighten. Awakening at such a young age was unheard of. But this…
This was something far beyond ordinary.
Within the silver circle behind Aditya, crimson light gathered.
Not gentle.
Not decorative.
Molten red, deep and commanding.
Lines of starlight etched themselves into existence—slowly, deliberately—forming a vast shape that coiled and unfurled with measured majesty.
A dragon.
Its wings spread wide, its form outlined in burning constellation-lines. Though composed entirely of light, its presence was overwhelming—fierce, proud, and resolute.
Aditya gasped.
The constellation did not merely exist behind him.
It appeared within his mind.
Vast. Clear. Every star blazing with purpose.
A controlled flame surged through his veins—not wild, not destructive—but obedient. A fire that answered his will.
Beside him, Sasi's silver circle responded.
Blue light surged outward like a gathering storm.
Crackling lines of electric starlight raced across the inner surface of the ring, converging into another draconic form—sleek, sharp, and coiled with restrained violence.
Lightning traced its wings and spine.
The Thunder Dragon.
Brief flashes of cerulean light illuminated the hall as the constellation stabilized.
Sasi's breath hitched.
His heart thundered—not in fear, but exhilaration. Power hummed beneath his skin, restless yet disciplined, like lightning waiting for direction.
Then—
Green.
Soft at first.
Gentle.
But immeasurable.
Behind Aryan, emerald light bloomed—spreading with quiet certainty. Starlines wove together into the shape of a dragon entwined with flowing currents, leaves, and unseen roots.
The Nature Dragon did not roar.
It endured.
Its presence was ancient, calm, and endlessly patient.
Aryan felt it settle into his consciousness—not as force, but as balance. Like the earth accepting the sky without effort. The temple fell into reverent silence.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Rishi Vedananda finally stepped forward, his gaze passing over each constellation.
"Flame Dragon," he said, eyes on Aditya.
"Thunder Dragon," his gaze shifted to Sasi.
"Nature Dragon," he finished, meeting Aryan's steady eyes.
"These are not blessings," the Rishi continued. "Nor are they judgments. They are Constellations—manifestations of the cosmic element that responded to your awakened chakra."
He raised his staff slightly, tapping the stone floor once.
"In the Nirvan System, there are three pillars."
He held up one finger.
"Chakra—the inner spiritual engine of the body. It is awakened through discipline, meditation, and resonance."
A second finger rose.
"Constellation—the cosmic attribute that answers that awakening. It does not control fate. It does not decide destiny. It is a source of elemental resonance, nothing more."
The third finger remained lowered.
"That final pillar," he said calmly, "will be explained later."
The triplets listened, their eyes never leaving the glowing circles behind them. His gaze sharpened.
"The silver circle you see is the manifestation of your chakra system. The Ashoka mark upon it represents your current stage."
"One chakra opened. One mark revealed."
He gestured to the rings.
"As your chakra stages advance, more Ashoka Chakras will appear upon the rim. Four stages awakened—four marks visible. The circle records your growth."
The silver rings pulsed faintly, once.
As if acknowledging the truth.
"The constellation," the Rishi continued, "is your elemental resonance. It strengthens your chakra, reinforces your body, and allows interaction with elemental forces."
He paused.
"But remember this."
His voice deepened.
"A constellation does not act on its own. Without discipline, it is silent. Without balance, it is dangerous."
Duke Varesh stepped forward, placing a steady hand upon each of his sons' shoulders.
"They have entered the Nirvan system," he said quietly.
"Yes," the Rishi replied. "From this moment onward, they are no longer unawakened."
He raised the Sankham one final time.
A short, controlled sound echoed through the hall.
Firm.
Final.
The silver circles stabilized.
The constellations burned steadily within them.
And beneath the calm stone of the temple, the Nirvan System had taken root in three young souls—quietly, patiently, awaiting the day it would shake the heavens.
The journey had truly begun.