Bhutala Outskirts – The Waking Dust
The city never truly slept; it only pretended to. The outskirts of Bhutara breathed in shallow gasps, wrapped in a haze of metallic smoke and the scent of rain that never came. Rusted roofs glimmered under a gray half-moon. Cracked neon signs flickered like dying stars, whispering the remnants of old commerce and older sins.
Aryan stood at the edge of a broken flyover, wind whipping through his jacket. The Aether hum beneath his skin pulsed in rhythm with the city's mechanical heartbeats.
"Feels different tonight," Abhi muttered, crouching near a burnt signpost, his gloved hand brushing through dust and glass shards.
"Different?" Aryan asked, scanning the horizon. "It's quieter. Even the dogs are gone."
Ahan adjusted the strap of his satchel, the faint metallic jingle from within betraying the presence of the proto-weapons — the Embryonic Relics of the Divya line. His eyes traced the path of an abandoned tram rail curving into the slums below.
"Quiet isn't peace," he said softly. "Sometimes it's the city holding its breath."
They descended into Bhutara's underbelly — a labyrinth of half-collapsed warehouses, temple ruins converted into shelters, and children running barefoot through puddles of oil. The rain began, thin and reluctant, streaking the shadows into motion.
Forgotten Arches
The trio moved through a corridor of forgotten gods — old temple pillars now plastered with propaganda posters from Outfit X. Faces of scientists, saints, and soldiers merged in a collage of ideology.
Ahan brushed a poster aside and found an engraving beneath — a half-erased carving of a haloed figure holding three distinct weapons. The stone shimmered faintly as droplets struck it.
"Look at that," Abhi said, lighting a flare. "That's not decay — it's reacting."
The light fractured into motes of gold, and the carving glowed like something alive. Aryan stepped closer, running a finger across the edge of the spear etched into the stone.
"It's the same frequency," he whispered. "Aether resonance."
And for a brief second — the city fell away. They saw flashes: a golden war field, arrows that burned like suns, celestial chariots ripping through the clouds. The vision vanished with a crackle, leaving only echoing silence and the thrum of distant generators.
Abhi exhaled. "Guess Bhutara's hiding more than smog."
Interlude: The Hollow Pulse
Later, inside a derelict foundry they'd made their temporary base, the rain softened to a steady rhythm. Aryan sat cross-legged, meditating over a small, circular construct — the Aether Modulizer. Its glow reflected off his eyes, steady and contained, unlike the storm in his thoughts.
Ahan's voice drifted from a corner. "You ever think we're just picking up where someone else left off?"
Abhi chuckled, cleaning the edge of his ember blade. "You mean the scientists, or the gods?"
"Both."
Aryan opened his eyes. "Doesn't matter who started it. We're finishing it."
A faint tremor rippled through the metal floor. The Modelizer flickered — then emitted a thin beam of light, striking a rusted locker on the far side of the room.
When the beam faded, a small panel in the locker had dislodged, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside — a single, charred notebook.
The Coordinates
The notebook's edges were burnt, its center fused into black glass. But between the damage, faint ink lines could be seen — circles, numbers, and a script that pulsed faintly with Aether light.
Ahan's eyes widened. "These symbols… They match Siddharth's journal. The final page."
Abhi tilted his head. "You mean the one that was torn out?"
"Yeah. This isn't just his handwriting. This is his frequency signature."
Aryan carefully turned the fragile page. Half of it disintegrated into dust. The remaining half revealed three coordinates — incomplete, jagged, like broken constellations.
At the bottom, a single line was scrawled in trembling ink:
"The relics sleep beneath the fractures of light — three veins, one pulse."
The Modulizer's glow intensified, resonating with the phrase. Aryan felt his breath catch.
"Three veins…" he murmured. "Three weapons?"
The ground shook again — heavier, deliberate. From outside, through the dripping eaves and rusted doors, came a faint sound — boots on water-logged concrete.
Abhi stood instantly. "We've got company."
Echoes in the Rain
Figures appeared beyond the threshold — silhouettes distorted by mist. They wore the insignia of Outfit X. Their visors glowed pale blue, scanning through the storm.
Aryan clenched his jaw. "They found us faster than expected."
Ahan snapped the Modulizer shut. "No mistakes this time."
Abhi smirked, flame licking across his blade. "Mistakes? I'm just getting warmed up."
The first bullet cut through the dark — a silver tracer splitting the rain. It struck a pillar and exploded into molten spray. Aryan lifted his spear, the Aether current erupting along its length, scattering droplets into streaks of light.
As the clash began — thunder rolled above Bhutara, echoing through the hollow bones of the city.
Amid the chaos, a single fragment of the notebook fluttered loose, carried by the wind into a gutter. The half-burned edge glowed once more before fading, revealing a hidden mark — a small insignia shaped like an eye inside a triangle.
Unseen by the trio, a drone hovered high above the scene — recording.
Somewhere, deep within Outfit X's central command, a figure watched the feed in silence, the reflection of the fight flickering in his pale gray eyes.
He leaned forward.
"Found you."