The scream tore through the darkness like a jagged blade. Jaswant jolted awake, gasping for air, his body drenched in cold sweat. The world around him was an abyss — a black void so complete that even the faintest whisper of breath seemed swallowed whole. Silence pressed down on him, thick and suffocating, and every instinct in his body screamed danger.
And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the darkness melted away. The void receded, leaving him in a world that seemed normal, mundane, as though the nightmare had been nothing more than a fleeting shadow.
"Ah… no! Not again!" Jaswant's voice was raw with frustration, the words echoing in the empty room. "I can't… I can't keep doing this. Every day, this same pain, this same inner wound. A year has passed, and yet the memory of that… that accident hasn't faded. How long must I endure it? I cannot bear this suffering anymore."
His hands clenched, fingers digging into his palms. "I have to… I have to find a cure. Somehow, the Soul Essences of the Five Elements… I must find them. But where? After a year of searching, still nothing… nothing."
Even as he spoke, his mind slipped into the shadows of the past.
There, in the same eerie silence, he saw himself sprawled on the ground, drenched in blood, his life hanging by a thread. And standing before him was a figure — a goddess. Her eyes shimmered with a strange, unsettling light, her smile both comforting and terrifying. Jaswant, weak and trembling, reached for her, his soul screaming for salvation.
But before his fingers could touch her, darkness swallowed his vision. Memories flooded him — flashes of his life, distorted and blurred, slipping through his grasp as though someone had taken a broom to his past, erasing it.
Time halted. Everything froze, yet he remained — bloodied, fragile, counting the breaths he thought would be his last. Then, without warning, the world shifted. The very fabric of the dimension unraveled, and he was pulled into another realm.
When Jaswant opened his eyes, shock rooted him to the ground. His body was whole, intact — healed as if nothing had ever happened. The blood, the agony, the suffocating fear — all gone. He touched his face, his arms, his chest. Everything felt real, yet impossibly normal.
And yet he knew, deep in his heart, that the memories, the pain, the helplessness — they had been real. The goddess, the shadows of betrayal, the knife-edge of death — they were not figments of a dream.
A voice shattered the silence.
"The Ultimate God System is loading…"
Jaswant leapt to his feet, eyes darting across the empty room. "W-who's there? Show yourself!" His voice trembled, betraying his fear.
No one appeared. Only the echo of his own desperation remained.
Then it spoke again.
"System installation is completed."
Jaswant's heart hammered. His bed, his room — everything around him was unchanged, yet the world felt different. A strange window of light appeared, floating in midair like a screen he could not ignore. His scream tore from his throat before his body succumbed to unconsciousness.
When he awoke again, his eyes struggled to adjust. Two, three figures stood around him — strangers. Faces unfamiliar, voices unknown. His body still ached, fragile from the ordeal.
And then — a woman ran to him, throwing herself around him, crying. "My son! You're awake! What happened? Who did this to you?"
Her voice was thick with concern, yet it could not mask the questions in her eyes. Jaswant stared back, searching, confused. These people, calling themselves his family, were strangers to him now.
"My mother?" he whispered, uncertainty lacing his tone.
"Yes, Jaswant… it's me, Revati. And your father, your sister… we are here."
Before he could process, his vision blurred, and his body shut down again. His mind was overloaded — the shock of the world, the voices, the memories. He fell into a restless sleep, haunted by fragments of the past.
Emerging from the fog of memory and awakening, Jaswant stepped into the living area, desperate for fresh air, desperate to escape the suffocating echoes of his past. But there, on the sofa, sat Vihaan Maheshwari — his cousin, two months younger, who had always appeared to love him while secretly plotting his downfall.
The air between them crackled with tension. Vihaan's smile was too sweet, his eyes too careful. "Hello, big brother! How are you?"
Jaswant's heart stilled momentarily. That smile, that tone — they were a mask. Memories flickered: the poison, the betrayal, the confession whispered in his ear when he had thought himself dying. The desire to live, crushed.
Vihaan's voice shook. "Big brother… you… you're not angry with me, right?"
Jaswant let the question hang. Calm, controlled, measured. "No… I am not angry. But you never came to see me, did you? Not once in the whole year. Tell me… did you stop caring?"
Vihaan's composure crumbled. Sweat dripped down his brow. His mind raced — if Jaswant remembered everything, the world he had built would collapse. "I… I just… I didn't get the time… that's all!"
Jaswant's eyes never left him. He knew every secret, every deceit. But for now, he would wait. Let the pieces fall into place. The conspiracy would unravel, and the truth — the Soul Essences — would be his.
In this world, power ruled all. The strong, the wealthy, the gifted — they dictated reality. The weak obeyed, sold, or sacrificed. Jaswant had survived death. He had returned. And he would rise again.
The dark goddess, the system, the betrayal, the secrets of the Panchatattva — all awaited him. And now, Jaswant's journey had begun.
A soul torn between worlds. A destiny bound by the five elements.