A week went by, the lab air heavy with expectation. Dr. Rudra's machinery hummed, vibrating with a fresh intensity, a countdown to the arrival of the fabled "King of Street Fights."
Dr. Rudra remained at the entrance of his laboratory, an unusual sight for someone who spent all day in the inner parts of the mountain core. His stance was typically relaxed but now tense with anticipation. He glanced at his watch for the third time in three minutes, his nervousness conspicuous.
Dhruv and Anika waited a couple of feet behind him, their expressions combined of curiosity and amazement.
A black car, out of place in the barren landscape of the Aravalli Hills, drove up and stopped quietly. The rear door opened, and out came a short, very lean man with a long white beard and matching hair worn back in a plain bun. His skin was a topography of deep furrows, but his eyes sparkled with a lively, youthful energy. He was dressed in an old-fashioned, loose kurta-pajama, a stunning contrast to the trim, high-tech lab.
He walked with an elegant, silent tread that belied his fragile looks, a fierce energy tensed within him.
Dr. Rudra hastened to him. The two men didn't shake hands; they hugged like long-lost brothers, patting each other on the back with a comfort that betokened a rich, common history.
"Rudra, you old pup! Still cowering in this cave?" Yang Lee's tone was a low, thundering chuckle. "I thought you'd have found a new mountain by now."
"Only when you've finally mastered your temper, Yang," Rudra shot back, his eyes sparkling. He indicated Dhruv and Anika. "My young companions. This is the fellow I've spoken to you about, Yang Lee."
Yang Lee's eyes were keen, hawk-like, as he sized up the two children. He didn't say anything, but his eyes appeared to take in every detail, from Dhruv's fidgeting nervousness to Anika's calm determination. Then a slow, wicked smile crossed his face.
"I brought some bananas for you," he said, extracting a gigantic bunch of yellow bananas from a cloth bag over his shoulder.
The lab, with its high-tech glory, now smelled like a fruit stand. "All the fruit shops in India have only bananas, right?" he teased, grinning at Rudra with a smile that wrinkled his whole face.
Rudra rolled his eyes, a warm exasperation on his face. "Some things never change, Yang. Some things never change."
The initial hellos and laughter gave way, replaced by a subdued, easy cadence that only long-time friends can sink into. Dr. Rudra and Yang Lee eased into a couple of nicely padded, ergonomic chairs, their discussion a low hum of shared memories.
Dhruv and Anika listened in, picking up snippets of tales about bold exploits and foolish youth.
Soon, the talk became serious. Dr. Rudra's otherwise placid and measured tone fell sombre as he narrated the tale of Dhruv and Anika's experience. He spoke to Yang Lee of their horrific loss of their parents, their narrow escape, and the endless pursuit by the Dashanan. He mentioned Dhruv's abilities, the divine boon given by Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu, and the almighty responsibility they cast on the young boy's shoulders.
Yang Lee sat silently, his piercing eyes on Dhruv. When Rudra had finished, the room hung in silence. The "King of Street Fights," a man who had witnessed and encountered all manner of violence, was completely speechless.
"Powers? Gods?" Yang Lee eventually whispered, his tone incredulous. "Rudra, you're referring to myths and legends."
Dhruv, noticing the look of uncertainty in his eyes, moved forward. He shut his eyes and concentrated, his mind in an inward silence. The space around him seemed to ripple, bend for an instant.
In an instant, he was gone, reappearing three feet to the left, a puff of displaced air the only sign of his movement. The movement was so swift, so unthinkable, that Yang Lee tumbled backward in his chair, his face set in an expression of pure horror.
"My deepest apologies, my lord!" Yang Lee shouted, rushing to his knees. "Are you a god? You're one, I'm sure of it! Forgive me for all my evil acts! Give me only a good place in heaven when I die!"
Rudra exploded into a fit of laughter, not able to help himself. Yang Lee gazed up at him, a frightened and bewildered look on his face.
His friend's complete shock and fear made Rudra laugh all the more. Yang Lee, still on his knee, just gazed at Dhruv. Fright slowly changed on his face, turning to sheer, unadulterated wonder. He had no words, no clever retort, but a deep silence as he digested the impossible.
"I'm not a god, Yang," Dhruv told him, a faint, shy smile on his lips.
Yang Lee shook his head, still dazed. "Perhaps not," he said, glancing from Dhruv to Rudra. "But whatever you are, you've just demonstrated that some legends are truer than we ever have the courage to imagine."