The storm had passed.
But something lingered.
For three nights, the farmhouse remained unnaturally calm. No wind. No insects. Even the forest seemed to listen.
Aditya and Kabir sat across from each other in the study. A single lantern burnt between them, casting long shadows across the wooden walls.
Neither spoke at first.
Finally, Kabir broke the silence.
"You felt it."
Aditya did not pretend otherwise. "Yes."
"The storm wasn't weather."
"No."
Kabir leaned back slowly. "I've seen power. I've studied it. Controlled it. Broken men with it."
His voice lowered.
"That wasn't control."
Aditya's fingers tapped lightly on the table. "It wasn't chaos either."
Kabir's eyes sharpened. "You're already defending him."
"I'm observing."
The lantern flame flickered slightly.
Both men noticed.
Both ignored it.
"He's a child," Aditya continued. "Right now, that's all he is."
Kabir gave a quiet, humourless laugh. "Children grow."
Before Aditya could respond, the door opened.
Ishita stepped inside first, with Anaya close behind her. The air shifted instantly.
"You're discussing him like a weapon," Ishita said calmly.
Kabir's gaze flicked to his wife. "We're discussing responsibility."
Anaya moved to stand beside the table. "Responsibility begins with protection. Not fear."
Silence.
Aditya leaned back.
"What do you suggest?"
Ishita didn't hesitate. "We raised him together."
Kabir frowned slightly. "Together."
"Yes," Anaya said firmly. "No rivalries. No hidden agendas. If his power is unusual, then he needs balance from the beginning."
Kabir's jaw tightened.
"You trust him that much?"
Anaya's expression softened.
"I trust how he slept."
That answer stopped the argument.
Aditya closed his eyes briefly.
He remembered it.
The moment after the storm.
The stillness.
The child was breathing calmly while the world trembled.
Finally, Kabir exhaled slowly.
"If we do this," he said, "there are no secrets between our orders."
Aditya looked at him carefully.
"That would be a first."
Kabir's lips twitched faintly. "Then perhaps this child is already changing things."
In the next room, Mukul shifted in his sleep.
Meera sat beside him, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest.
The mark beneath his skin glowed once.
Softly.
Then faded.
Back in the study, Ishita rested her hand over her own stomach.
Anaya mirrored the gesture.
Their unborn daughters stirred.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just… responding.
Kabir noticed.
Aditya noticed too.
Neither commented.
"We train them together," Aditya said at last.
Kabir nodded slowly.
"No binding. No forced destiny."
"Agreed."
"They choose their own paths."
"Agreed."
The lantern flame steadied.
Outside, the forest finally exhaled.
The pact was not sealed in blood.
Not carved into stone.
It existed only in understanding.
Fragile.
Human.
For now.
Kabir stood first.
"If he becomes dangerous," he said quietly, "I won't hesitate."
Aditya met his gaze evenly.
"If he becomes powerful," he replied, "neither will I."
Across the hall, Meera felt something shift in the air.
Not a threat.
Not danger.
Alignment.
She looked down at her son.
"You don't belong to storms," she whispered.
"You belong to tomorrow."
Far away, in the Ahir mansion—
Savita woke abruptly in the middle of the night.
Her chest is tight.
Her pulse was racing.
For reasons she could not explain—
She felt as though something had just moved beyond her control.
And for the first time since Meera left—
Savita Ahir felt fear