Chapter 3
The pace of growth in the Brahmaloka was fundamentally different from the linear progression of the mortal plane. Time, to the gods, was merely a metric for observing the cycles of creation, and their children reflected this temporal elasticity.
In what Nitya estimated to be two weeks of subjective time since his small, successful test of the Prana Siphon ability, his physical form had stabilized to the approximate size and motor function of a three-year-old mortal child. This unnatural rate of growth was a direct consequence of his Insatiable Drive prioritizing cellular regeneration via the constant, low-level atmospheric Prana filtering, augmented by his calculated, controlled siphoning of energy from minor, ephemeral divine concepts—like the geometry butterflies or the passing thought-forms manifested by his father.
His voice, when it emerged, was not a child's falsetto, but a quiet, perfectly modulated baritone, devoid of any youthful inflection. It was the voice of a professional narrator.
Saraswati, seated on a cushion woven from golden silence, regarded him with the serene, accepting gaze of a being who understood that linear development was beneath the dignity of her bloodline.
"Nitya," she murmured, her voice a gentle echo of the universe's most perfect symphony. "The loom is ready. What thread do you choose to pull first?"
Nitya stood motionless, his small body clad in a simple garment of spun light, his gold-flecked eyes unblinking. His internal analytical engine, now operating at peak efficiency, recognized this moment as the start of the Knowledge Tree Acquisition Phase.
"Mother," he began, his voice flat, his question precise, "I require the foundational axioms of this reality. Specifically: Māyā. Define its parameters, its constraints, and the mechanism by which it can be bypassed or manipulated."
📊 The Database of Deception
Saraswati's smile deepened. The clarity and objective coldness of his request confirmed her earlier assessment: Nitya was not a child to be coddled, but a force of focus to be guided.
"Māyā," she replied, as a translucent, shimmering image of the cosmos—stars, galaxies, and mortal worlds—manifested in the air between them. "It is not mere illusion, my son. That is the simplification of the unenlightened. Māyā is the Architecture of Limitation. It is the divine art by which the infinite, formless Brahman allows itself to appear as the finite, multitudinous cosmos."
Nitya absorbed the visual data and the conceptual information simultaneously. His mind overlaid a filter: Māyā = The Game Engine. Brahman = The Code Base.
"Therefore, the entire material plane—Loka—is a system of applied constraints," Nitya stated, his brow furrowing slightly, a rare physical expression of intense mental processing. "The laws of physics, Karma, Dharma... these are all subroutines of Māyā. Is this correct?"
"Yes, my bright strategist," Saraswati affirmed, pleased. "And the more one is ensnared by the sense-data of Māyā—the desire, the ego, the attachment—the thicker the constraints become. You become a prisoner of the architecture."
Nitya's detached nature proved invaluable here. He had virtually no ego or sensory attachment to the material world, even in his previous life. His Emotionally Detached trait was, ironically, the perfect philosophical weapon for traversing the Hindu concept of reality.
"If detachment is the key to bypassing Māyā," Nitya continued, his analytical gaze fixed on his mother, "then what role does power play? If a being achieves transcendent power—say, the ability to rewrite the subroutines of Karma or manipulate the atomic constants—would that not be an alternative bypass? An Administrator Override?"
🩸 The Predatory Mindset
This question was the first moment where the Dracula Inheritance truly colored his divine quest. It wasn't enough to transcend the system through passive detachment; the Insatiable Drive of the vampire demanded mastery and consumption of the system's core resources.
Saraswati tilted her head, a movement that expressed the weight of a thousand Kalpas of contemplation.
"Power without knowledge is merely a larger cage, Nitya. The demons who seek only dominion over the physical laws still obey the laws of Māyā. They only change the wallpaper."
She paused, a thoughtful, silvery light emanating from her hands. "But I sense in you a different intention. You seek power not for ego, but as a tool for perfect information gathering. You wish to be detached, yes, but also to be the active observer with the highest possible privilege level."
Correct, Nitya thought. Detachment prevents system entrapment. Power ensures maximum data throughput and the ability to correct for critical errors. My vampiric nature grants me the drive for efficiency; my divinity grants me the access keys.
He took a controlled step closer to his mother. He didn't require comfort. He required transmission.
"Mother, demonstrate the architecture of a Varna (social class) subroutine. Show me the specific energy transfer loops between the physical act and the Karmic tally. I need the raw data, not the ethical framework."
As he spoke, his enhanced senses, the legacy of his predatory origin, focused on Saraswati's Prana Signature. He wasn't aiming to siphon her life force, but to metaphysically lock onto the data stream she was generating. He was using the vampire's targeting mechanism to increase his reception and bandwidth for divine knowledge. It was a silent, controlled act of intellectual predation.
Saraswati smiled, understanding the pure, beautiful efficiency of his mind. She raised a hand, and the cosmic image between them solidified. She didn't lecture; she broadcast the data.
An overwhelming, structured torrent of information—sociological, mathematical, and energetic—flowed from her to Nitya's mind. It detailed the complex, millennia-long feedback loops of duty, action, and consequence that governed the lives of mortals.
Nitya received it not with wonder or gratitude, but with the cold, focused intensity of a terminal downloading a massive, critical patch. His thirst, momentarily sated by this powerful, high-grade knowledge Prana, receded further. He had found a replenishing resource far superior to mere blood: Divine Truth.
"Understood," Nitya finally whispered, after a silence that felt like an eon. His eyes, devoid of emotion but burning with the fire of his Insatiable Drive, were already contemplating the next, higher-tier query. "Now, let us discuss the Samsara Loop. I need to know the escape condition."