Legends rarely announce themselves.
They begin quietly—through whispers, sideways glances, and stories told with a nervous laugh that pretends disbelief.
After the incident with the cart, Gokul changed.
Not dramatically. Not openly.
But subtly.
Mothers watched Krishna a little longer than before. Elders paused when he passed, eyes thoughtful. Even the animals behaved differently—cows lowered their heads, birds lingered near rooftops when he played beneath them.
Krishna noticed everything.
Awareness flowed effortlessly now, stretching across Gokul like a gentle net. He felt the emotional state of the village—confusion mixed with affection, curiosity tempered by fear.
This was acceptable.
Faith born too early could distort.
Fear left unchecked could rot.
Balance required ignorance—for now.
Krishna crawled across the courtyard, butter smeared across his chin, utterly unconcerned with philosophy.
Yashoda watched him fondly, kneading dough nearby. "Slow down," she warned. "You'll bump into something."
Krishna bumped into something.
A pot.
It tipped.
Butter spilled.
Yashoda sighed. "…Of course."
Krishna looked up at her, eyes wide.
Within his mind—
«Butter Theft Attempt Logged.
Execution: Sloppy.
Skill Assessment: Needs improvement.»
He crawled faster next time.
Later that day, dark clouds gathered suddenly over Gokul.
The air thickened.
Birds fled.
Krishna paused mid-crawl.
Anomaly detected.
Threat classification: High Mobility, Atmospheric.
Designation: Trinavarta.
The system chimed with faint irritation.
«Hostile entity approaching via weather manipulation.
Subtype: Wind Demon.
Note: Overdramatic.»
Krishna frowned slightly.
Wind manipulation meant collateral risk.
Children.
Animals.
Yashoda.
Unacceptable.
The winds rose violently, tearing through the village with unnatural force. Roofs rattled. Trees bent dangerously.
Villagers cried out in panic.
"What's happening?"
"A storm—no, worse!"
Yashoda rushed toward Krishna. "Krishna!"
Before she could reach him, a powerful gust lifted Krishna into the air.
"KRISHNA!" she screamed.
The villagers watched in horror as the wind twisted unnaturally, forming a towering vortex. At its center, Trinavarta revealed himself—massive, grotesque, laughing cruelly as he carried Krishna high into the sky.
"Finally!" the demon roared. "The child is mine!"
Krishna dangled calmly in his grip.
He assessed.
Altitude: dangerous.
Time window: limited.
Collateral risk: high.
The demon tightened his hold, expecting fear.
Krishna smiled.
Trinavarta faltered.
"What—?"
Krishna allowed gravity to reassert itself.
His weight increased.
Exponentially.
Trinavarta screamed as his arms strained, wings faltering under impossible mass.
"What are you doing?!" the demon howled.
Krishna grabbed Trinavarta's arm.
Squeezed.
Bones shattered.
Wind faltered.
The demon plummeted.
They crashed outside the village with earth-shaking force.
Dust billowed.
The winds ceased instantly.
Villagers rushed forward cautiously.
They found Krishna sitting atop Trinavarta's lifeless form, clapping happily.
Yashoda reached him first, collapsing to her knees as she pulled him into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Don't ever do that again," she cried. "Don't ever leave me!"
Krishna hugged her back.
Her fear echoed deeply within him.
He marked it.
«Demonic Threat Neutralized,» the system reported.
«Method: Weight Adjustment.
Collateral Damage: Psychological trauma to witnesses.»
Krishna glanced at the villagers.
They stared at him with awe bordering on reverence.
This… was a problem.
That night, whispers turned into prayers.
Some villagers lit lamps outside their homes.
Others bowed instinctively when Krishna passed.
Krishna felt the shift immediately.
Faith was forming.
Prematurely.
Yashoda noticed too.
She held Krishna close, her voice firm. "He's just a child," she told everyone. "No more stories."
Krishna approved.
Within his awareness, Mathura stirred violently.
Kamsa felt the death of Trinavarta like a hammer to the skull.
"A child," he whispered hoarsely. "A child cannot do this."
But destiny did not care for denial.
Krishna lay awake that night, staring at the stars.
Legends were forming around him.
Uncontrolled legends were dangerous.
He needed control.
Soon.
--chapter 9 ended--