For a fleeting moment, it felt like victory.
The crimson moon had begun to lift, glowing less fiercely under the combined might of Gauri and Vihaan. The earth rumbled, the air shimmered — hope finally felt within reach.
But then, in the blink of an eye, the light changed.
The moon shuddered… and fell.
A deafening boom echoed across the valley as the crimson moon crashed back onto the Kothari mansion's rooftop, sending waves of force rippling through the ground.
"Vihaan!" Gauri shouted, shielding her face from the dust and shockwaves.
Inside the mansion, chaos erupted. The walls cracked, and the floor split apart. Everyone was thrown off their feet — Dadi's prayer beads scattered across the floor as Veena and Urvashi rushed to steady her.
"Hold on, Maa!" Veena cried, gripping her mother-in-law's hand tightly.
Upstairs, Raani and Charvi screamed as the tremor threw them off balance. They tumbled across the floor — the medicine box slipped from Raani's grasp, clattering down the stairs as bottles shattered against the marble.
Dust filled the air; lamps fell; the once-glorious mansion groaned like a living thing under pressure.
Outside, Gauri and Vihaan stared in horror as the moon returned to its original place — glowing fiercer, almost mocking them. The red light reflected in their tearful eyes.
Vihaan dropped to his knees, his voice breaking. "No… not again. Maa, Yug, Raani… everyone…"
Gauri's tears fell silently as she touched his shoulder. "We'll find a way, Vihaan… we have to."
But even as she spoke, despair gnawed at her heart.
---
Scene: The Vision of the River
Far away, in the tranquil yet mystical valley of Pratham Vansh, the river waters rippled with images of Gauri and Vihaan's struggle. The women of the lineage, draped in sacred silks, gathered around the glowing riverbank.
One of the younger women gasped. "They tried… and the moon fell again! Can they still save their family, Guru Maa?"
The river glowed crimson beneath the reflection of the blood moon.
Pratham Vanshi, her silver hair gleaming under the moonlight, remained calm, her ancient eyes fixed on the rippling image. "The blood moon is not an ordinary curse. It thrives on despair and fear. The more they lose hope, the stronger it becomes."
Another woman knelt beside her, anxious. "Then… what must they do?"
Pratham Vanshi closed her eyes, speaking with measured gravity.
> "To destroy the blood moon, they must unite their full essence — the divine and the mortal, the light and the shadow. Gauri must awaken her true self once again — the Jalpanchi, the sacred guardian of the divine waters. The same form that defeated Sarp Daayan Kamini, Vihaan's birth mother."
The women murmured in awe, the name of Kamini stirring fear even now.
Pratham Vanshi continued, her gaze unwavering.
"And Vihaan… he must embrace the aspect of Sarvansh he has never dared to take — the form that holds both creation and destruction within him. Only when their souls merge in divine balance can the blood moon be undone."
The river rippled more violently, reflecting Vihaan and Gauri's sorrow.
Pratham Vanshi's voice grew softer, almost like a prayer.
"But if they fail to do so before the moon's third descent… the Kothari bloodline will be lost to darkness forever."
The crimson reflection flickered — the river darkened.
And far away, beneath that cursed red sky, Gauri and Vihaan stood hand in hand before the mansion ruins, unaware that their greatest transformation was about to begin.
Veer stood at the ruined edge of the lawn, sunlight slicing through the haze of dust and the faint red wash still clinging to the sky. Around him the world trembled with fear; inside him, something colder than the wind uncoiled and smiled.
He watched Gauri and Vihaan below, hands locked, faces streaked with sweat and salt, muscles trembling as they fought to lift the impossible crescent. He watched the way hope rose and fell in their every movement, how each time the moon lofted a fraction higher their faces lit with a new, brittle courage — and how quickly that courage was snuffed.
Veer let a slow laugh escape him, soft enough that the others would not hear but loud enough for his own ears. "Perfect," he said to no one, the single word sharp in the bright air. "You don't know how lucky you are, Vihaan. Either way I win."
He bowed his head, pretending to mourn; the act was flawless. Then he straightened and the smile returned, less a smile than a blade.
"You know the game I'm playing," he told the empty garden. "If Vihaan fails — despair will swallow him, and broken men are easy prey. If they succeed… the price of breaking that red moon is a story only I hold. Either ruin or a ruin with a different name — it's all the same for me."
Sunlight gilded the blood-sheen on the horizon as Veer's mind reached farther than the ruined lawn. In a vision he alone could touch, a lunar fortress rose: towers carved of frost, banners of silver, and on the highest battlement a frozen princess sat motionless, a staff of moonlight gripped in her hands. At her feet two white wolves, statues until commanded, watched the distant earth with unblinking eyes.
Veer's lips curled. "Soon," he murmured. "Soon the pieces will fall into place."
He lowered his voice, conspiratorial to the air. "Let them fight for their little light. I've already learned how cold victory can be."
Then he turned, one dark figure framed against the ruined silhouette of the mansion, and walked away — every step measured, every smile a promise that the game was only just beginning.