The page tore.
Not cleanly.
Script fought him—letters writhing like worms, trying to reweave themselves mid-rip. The sound was wrong. Not paper tearing. Something wetter. Meat separating from bone.
Karan's face went white.
"You fool—"
The Codex screamed.
Not metaphor.
Screamed.
A sound that wasn't sound—pressure slamming into Bharat's skull like someone had fired a gun inside his brain. He tasted blood. Felt something warm drip from his nose.
Kept tearing.
The page came free.
And the world—
—
—
—stopped.
Silence.
Absolute.
Total.
Bharat couldn't hear his heartbeat. Couldn't hear Mira breathing. Couldn't hear anything.
Then:
Light.
Gold.
Pouring from the torn edge of the Codex like arterial spray.
It pooled on the floor—thick, viscous, alive. Started forming shapes. Letters. Words. Sentences that built themselves from nothing, rewriting reality stroke by stroke.
The countdown in Bharat's vision flickered.
22 days.
21.
20.
Reversing.
25.
28.
30.
It stopped.
30 days.
Reset.
Bharat exhaled.
Felt his ribs expand without screaming.
The shared-pain contract had… eased.
Not broken.
Just… diluted.
Like the Mark's extraction had bought them space.
He looked at Mira.
She was staring at him. Eyes wide. Not scared.
Awed.
"You actually did it," she whispered.
"Yeah."
"You fucking did it."
"Yeah."
"We have thirty days."
"Yeah."
"And the god is going to—"
The air split.
Not a sound.
A presence.
Vast.
Ancient.
Awake.
The Adjudicator moved.
Slow. Deliberate. Like a mountain deciding to walk.
It looked at Bharat.
"INTERESTING."
That word again.
"YOU CHOSE DEFIANCE."
"NOT SUBMISSION."
"NOT FLIGHT."
"DEFIANCE."
Its too-many-fingered hand reached out.
Touched the air where the torn page had been.
"THE COVENANT IS BROKEN."
"THE NAME IS FREED."
"BUT—"
It tilted its head. The motion was wrong—too smooth, too fluid, like its neck was made of water.
"—THE GOD REMEMBERS."
"Let it."
Bharat's voice came out steadier than he felt.
"I'm done being afraid of things that hide in temples."
The Adjudicator smiled.
"BRAVE."
"FOOLISH."
"BUT BRAVE."
It stepped back.
"YOU HAVE THIRTY DAYS."
"USE THEM WELL."
"BECAUSE ON THE THIRTY-FIRST—"
The smile widened.
"—I WILL COME FOR YOU MYSELF."
"Looking forward to it."
Liar.
Complete liar.
But he said it with a straight face.
The Adjudicator laughed.
"YES."
"YOU WILL DO."
Then it was gone.
Not fading. Not dissolving.
Just… gone.
Like it had never been there.
Karan staggered.
Fell to his knees.
Vomited.
Black liquid.
Script-laced.
Divine corruption purging from his system.
He looked up at Bharat.
Face pale. Eyes bloodshot.
"You have no idea what you've done," he rasped.
"Sure I do."
"The god—"
"Will come. You said. I heard."
Bharat crouched. Met Karan's eyes.
"But it's coming for me. Not Mira. Not my mother. Not anyone else."
"Me."
"And I've got thirty days to figure out how to kill it."
Karan laughed.
Bitter.
Broken.
"You can't kill a god."
"People have before."
"Not this god."
"Then I'll be the first."
Bharat stood.
"Where's Rajan?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to need his black-gold accounts to fund what comes next."
"He'll never—"
"He will."
Bharat held up the Codex.
"Because if he doesn't, I'll tear another page."
"And another."
"Until there's nothing left but covers and the god has no one to remember."
Karan stared.
"You're insane."
"I'm motivated."
"There's a difference."
Doors exploded inward.
Ayesha.
Temple security behind her—but moving with her, not against.
She'd flipped them.
Fast.
Efficient.
She saw Bharat. Saw the Codex. Saw Karan on his knees.
"We need to move," she said.
"Agreed."
"Temple's collapsing. Wards are down. Every spirit in a five-mile radius is going to converge here in—"
She checked her watch.
"—four minutes."
"Mira—"
"I've got her."
Ayesha moved to Mira. Helped her up. Mira's wrist was still leaking black, but slower now. Clotting.
"Can you walk?"
"Can you carry me if I can't?"
"Easily."
"Then I can walk."
Bharat looked at Karan.
"Come with us or stay. Your choice."
"Why would I—"
"Because Rajan will kill you for failing."
"And you won't?"
"I need you alive."
"For what?"
"To testify."
Bharat tucked the Codex under his arm.
"When this is over, I'm going to dismantle this temple piece by piece. Name by name. And you're going to help."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because the alternative is I leave you here when the spirits arrive."
Pause.
Karan stood.
Slowly.
"I hate you."
"I get that a lot."
"You're going to get us all killed."
"Probably."
"And you're still going to try."
"Definitely."
Karan wiped blood from his face.
"Fuck it. I'm in."
They ran.
Temple corridors twisting behind them. Walls bleeding script. Floors cracking. The building was dying—not collapsing, dying. Like a living thing hemorrhaging its last.
Spirits poured from cracks.
Formless.
Hungry.
Drawn to the Codex like moths to flame.
Ayesha fired.
Temple-blessed rounds. Each bullet a tiny exorcism.
Spirits shrieked.
Dissipated.
Kept coming.
"How many bullets do you have?" Bharat shouted.
"Not enough!"
"Plan B?"
"You're holding it!"
Right.
The Codex.
Bharat opened it.
Pages flipped themselves—fast, frantic, searching.
Found:
Covenant of Binding.
Spirits summoned must serve the summoner until released or destroyed.
Loophole:
Spirits unsummoned serve no one.
Bharat smiled.
Ripped the page.
The spirits stopped.
Mid-lunge.
Frozen.
Then:
They turned.
Not toward Bharat.
Toward the temple's core.
Toward the god.
The thing that had bound them.
And they screamed.
Rage.
Betrayal.
Freedom.
They dove.
Into walls.
Into floors.
Into the structure itself.
Tearing it apart from the inside.
"RUN!" Ayesha screamed.
They ran.
Exit in sight.
Fifty feet.
Forty.
Thirty.
The ceiling cracked.
Masonry fell.
Bharat shoved Mira forward.
"GO!"
She went.
Ayesha dragged Karan.
Bharat turned back—
—just as the corridor collapsed.
Dust.
Debris.
Darkness.
And through it all:
A voice.
Not the Adjudicator's.
Older.
Deeper.
The god's.
I SEE YOU.
Not ears.
Not mind.
Bones.
The voice spoke directly into his bones.
I KNOW YOUR NAME.
I KNOW YOUR SHAPE.
I KNOW YOUR SCENT.
Bharat's knees buckled.
THIRTY DAYS, LITTLE THIEF.
THIRTY DAYS TO RUN.
THIRTY DAYS TO HIDE.
THIRTY DAYS TO PRAY.
The dust cleared.
The temple was gone.
Not collapsed.
Gone.
Just a crater.
Smooth.
Glassed.
Like something had reached down and scooped it out of reality.
Bharat stood at the edge.
Codex still in his hands.
Countdown in his vision:
30 days.
He looked at Mira.
At Ayesha.
At Karan.
"We need to move."
"Where?" Mira asked.
"Somewhere the god can't reach."
"There is no—"
"There is."
Bharat opened the Codex.
Flipped to the back.
Found:
Places of Un-Being.
Where gods cannot tread.
List of three locations.
Two crossed out.
One left:
The Unmade City.
Where the first contract was written.
Where the first god died.
Bharat looked up.
"We're going to find the place where gods can be killed."
"And?"
"And we're going to learn how."
His phone buzzed.
Peacock.
[PEACOCK]: Saw the temple vanish. You alive?
[BHARAT]: Unfortunately.
[PEACOCK]: Good. Because I found something.
[BHARAT]: What?
[PEACOCK]: The god you pissed off?
[PEACOCK]: It has a name.
[PEACOCK]: A true name.
[PEACOCK]: The kind you can use to bind it.
[PEACOCK]: Or kill it.
Pause.
[BHARAT]: Where?
[PEACOCK]: Unmade City. Obviously.
[PEACOCK]: When do we leave?
Bharat looked at the Codex.
At the countdown.
At the three people who'd followed him into hell and somehow walked out.
He smiled.
Not nice.
Feral.
"Now."
Somewhere far away.
In a place that wasn't a place.
The god opened its eyes.
All of them.
And smiled.
FINALLY.
SOMEONE INTERESTING.