The first light of dawn seeped through the rain-darkened clouds over Mumbai, casting muted gold across the narrow streets and damp rooftops. But Shiwang did not notice the changing sky. He had barely slept, and even if he had, dreams would have been irrelevant in the face of the storm raging inside him.
For hours, he had wandered his small apartment, feeling the hum of power coiling through his veins like serpents of ice and fire, writhing and ready to strike. It was not a dream anymore. Not a vision. Not a whisper from some hidden past. It was real, and it demanded action.
Shiwang closed his eyes and focused, centering his mind. The air around him trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly at first, then with a weight that pressed against his chest. He exhaled, slow and deliberate, and for a moment, the apartment seemed to vanish.
He was no longer just Shiwang, the playful yet serious student from India. He was a vessel of ancient Tapasyā, a spark of eternity given form in flesh. The power inside him—dormant for lifetimes—stirred, and he could feel the duality in perfect balance: Destruction, ferocious and untamed, and Ice, calm yet unyielding, a force meant not to destroy recklessly, but to protect and preserve.
---
Shiwang extended his hand toward the empty air. The effect was immediate.
A ripple of frost snaked along the floorboards, crawling outward in fractal patterns, freezing the small cracks and dust motes in its path. The cold was not bitter—it was alive, sharp and pure, like the first snow on a mountaintop. Then, with another movement, the air thickened, shimmering with an invisible heat, and streaks of fire sparked from his fingertips, dancing in wild arcs. The ice and fire existed simultaneously, opposing yet perfectly complementary, entwining around his body like twin serpents circling a pillar.
Shiwang laughed softly, a sound that was both playful and ominous. "Well… I guess I'm not exactly normal anymore."
The walls of his apartment vibrated with the energy, the windowpanes quivering, the very air charged with power. He was aware that even a single misstep could tear through this space, yet he felt no fear. Instead, he felt… alive. Truly alive.
---
For the first time, he spoke his own name aloud—not casually, not jokingly, but with authority and purpose:
"Shiwang."
The syllable echoed in the room, yet it carried weight beyond sound. It resonated through his very being, summoning memories buried deep in the layers of past lives: kneeling beneath endless starlit skies, chanting in temples carved from stone and crystal, meditating through decades of solitude and suffering. Every trial, every hardship, every moment of silence and pain had been preparation for this awakening.
And now, he understood: his powers were not simply for battle. They were not a prize, nor a curse. They were a responsibility. A means to protect the one he loved, to cross worlds and face any obstacle for her sake.
---
The manifestation of power, however, was not without consequence. The apartment shook violently as the room around him reacted to the sheer magnitude of his energies. The small plants on the windowsill trembled and froze, the light bulbs flickered as heat and frost collided invisibly in the air, and a faint hum reverberated through the walls, as if the building itself were aware of what had been awakened within him.
Shiwang raised both hands, then slammed them together in a single motion. A controlled blast of energy erupted—a vortex of frost and fire spiraling outward, curling around each other, not destroying but reshaping the space in impossible ways. The room, though small, now seemed vast, an endless void where his powers could stretch without limit.
And in that void, he felt it: the pull of another world. Subtle at first, like the faint tug of a string across oceans, but growing stronger with every heartbeat. It was the same thread he had glimpsed in his visions—the golden tether that connected him to Ma Xiaotao.
---
Shiwang stepped forward, focusing his senses. The thread seemed almost tangible now, winding around him, tugging at his very soul. "So… this is it," he murmured. "The way to her world…"
A voice, familiar yet distant, echoed in his mind. Shiv Ji.
"You have awakened, Shiwang. The powers granted to you are not mere gifts. They are instruments of fate. Destruction to clear the path, Ice to preserve what is precious. And the path you now walk will lead you beyond your mortal plane, to the world where your destiny truly begins."
Shiwang's heart skipped a beat. "Am I ready?" he asked aloud, though the answer already hummed in his soul. He had waited lifetimes for this moment, and nothing—no fear, no doubt—could stand in the way of what he must do.
"Yes," the voice responded softly, yet with infinite authority. "When your heart is fully committed, when your love for her transcends all else, the gateway will open. But remember: the path will not be simple. Many will challenge you. Many will seek to test the limits of your power. Yet none can rival the force that burns for love alone."
---
Shiwang closed his eyes once more, letting the energies within him calm, intertwine, and synchronize. Ice flowed around him like a protective shell, fire danced at his fingertips like a roaring companion. The duality was no longer chaotic. It was harmony. It was destiny.
And as dawn broke fully over Mumbai, the first rays of sunlight touched his face, glinting off the shimmer of frost that clung to his hair and the faint heat rising from his palms. Shiwang smiled—a smile that was playful, yet terrifying in its certainty.
"Time to test limits," he whispered. "Time to see how far I can go… for her."
---
He stepped outside into the early morning streets. The city seemed unchanged—yet everything had changed. Cars honked, vendors shouted, and people moved about their lives, unaware that a being of godlike power walked among them, one whose heart already belonged elsewhere, to a woman he had never met in this world but loved with every fiber of his being.
Shiwang's footsteps were deliberate. His mind was focused. And his soul… was already reaching toward the golden thread that spanned the dimensions.
He lifted his hands, and with a single motion, a small fragment of the street froze in crystalline ice. Then, almost instantly, it erupted in a controlled blast of energy, vaporizing the frost without causing harm to the surroundings. He tested his limits, felt the power flowing from within, and smiled again.
He was not just a man anymore. He was awakening, and soon, the world—or rather, the worlds—would know his presence.
---
Hours passed, and Shiwang sat upon the roof of his building, watching the sun rise higher. The city beneath him was unaware, mundane, ordinary. But for him, every moment counted. He could feel the cosmic currents stirring, the gateway between realms shifting imperceptibly, drawn by the awakening of a soul destined for love and destruction alike.
He whispered a vow to himself, and to the golden thread that called him forward:
"No matter the obstacles, no matter the cost… I will reach you, Ma Xiaotao. Across worlds, across lifetimes, across eternity… nothing will stop me."
And in that instant, as if acknowledging the sincerity of his vow, the thread tugged stronger, weaving a faint shimmer into the air around him—the first sign that the path to Soul Land 2 was opening.
To be continued....