Centuries ago… the skies bled fire, the earth crumbled beneath shadows, and the age of peace was devoured.
It was an era remembered in fear — an era named:
"The Rise of Devouring Hands."
Holy men collapsed into hollow corpses, their souls torn away by an unseen hunger. Kingdoms fell silent. Temples stood abandoned. And behind it all was a single figure:
Pralayakar — the Dominator of Dimensions.
But his hunger was not for land, nor thrones. He sought something greater: to challenge the preserver of universes, Lord Vishnu himself.
Yet, Vishnu did not descend. Instead came the guardian of this realm alone — Aarah, god of the mortal world.
Pralayakar's laughter shook the heavens. His disappointment became rage.
Thus began a war that burned through six million centuries.
Seventy percent of heaven crumbled. Sixty-five percent of the mortal world was erased. Seventeen percent of hell itself was scarred.
And at the end… Pralayakar fell. His body broken, but his spirit unyielding. His weapon shattered, but his words sharper than ever.
Pralayakar (smirking through blood):
"Oyi… what do you think you're doing? Nothing different than me."
[Aarah's eyes narrow. Silence.]
Pralayakar (mocking, yet steady):
"Confused? Let me explain.
You claim to be a god. But gods… true gods… do not kill for dominance. They do not kill for greed.
And yet you? You tried to kill me only to silence those who would rise against you.
You tried to kill me because you wanted mortals to chant your name freely, without fear of opposition.
That… is greed. That… is domination.
Tell me, Aarah… how are you different from me?"
[Panels: heaven in ruins, mortals crushed, screams fading into ash.]
Pralayakar (eyes glowing brighter):
"Gods are meant to be mercy. But you destroyed more than half of heaven.
You turned most of the mortal world to dust. You slaughtered millions of innocents who never raised a hand against you.
Look at yourself. You are drenched in more blood than I."
[Aarah falters. His divine light flickers.]
Pralayakar (pointing to himself, voice steady, almost proud):
"And me? Look closer. The heavens despised me. The mortals feared me. But those who placed their hope in me… I protected them.
Seventeen percent of hell — that is all that fell.
Because I guarded those who believed in me.
That, Aarah… is what a god does."
[The battlefield shakes. Aarah's hand trembles on his weapon.]
Pralayakar (final words, echoing like scripture):
"If you cannot accept your fault… then what you hold is not divinity. It is ego.
What you wield is not holiness, but false pride.
And gods… real gods… are nothing like you."
[Silence. Aarah stands frozen. The divine glow fades into shadow. The world trembles not from the battle — but from the weight of those words.]
And so, history did not remember the god's triumph.
It remembered the gaze of the demon who questioned the heavens.