Several years passed.
King Pandu began to live with ease alongside his two wives and five children in the quiet forests of the Himalayas.
One day, overwhelmed by a moment of lust, he and Madri forgot the curse that hung over him. Pandu died in that instant.
Madri, unable to bear the loss, committed sati to follow him into the afterlife, leaving her two sons, Nakula and Sahadeva, in Kunti's care. When the news reached Hastinapura, the family was devastated. Bhishma himself traveled to the forest and convinced Kunti to return with her sons to the capital.
And so many more years passed.
Somewhere in the Himalayas, far from the eyes of kingdoms and cities, a 25-year-old radiant young man stood on the edge of a high cliff.
He stood tall, his presence calm yet commanding, as dark flowing hair fell loose down the back of his neck. Upon his forehead rested the faint half-sun mark, subtle yet unmistakable, as if dawn itself had chosen him.
His body was sculpted by years of battle and discipline, broad shoulders and powerful arms carrying strength without excess, every muscle resting in quiet control rather than boastful display.
His face was strikingly handsome, sharp lines softened by a natural grace, eyes deep and steady, holding both warmth and distance. There was a radiance about him that was as brilliant as the sun, as though the sun god's blessing lingered not only on his skin, but within his very being.
The village below lay barren with cracked earth, withered crops, and empty wells.
People moved slowly, children too weak to play, and elders sitting in doorways with hollow eyes.
Karna looked down at them for a long moment. Then he raised his bow, humming faintly in his grip and aimed not at the ground, but at the thick gray clouds overhead.
He drew the string back.
An arrow formed in his fingers, coated in shimmering water astras he had mastered under Lord Parashurama.
He released.
The arrow streaked upward, piercing the clouds like a needle through cloth.
Within moments, the sky rumbled. Heavy rain started pouring down in sheets, soaking the dry land.
Villagers ran out of their huts, faces lifted to the sky. Children laughed for the first time in months. Old women wept as water filled their empty pots. The earth drank greedily, cracks closing as if the land itself breathed again.
He then slowly lowered his bow with a small smile on his lips. The rain felt good. But before the smile could settle, an angry roar split the sky.
"Karna… how dare you!"
Lightning cracked as the clouds parted violently.
Lord Indra descended in a blaze of white and gold with his crown gleaming, the Vajra clutched in his fist, and his eyes burning with fury. He hovered above the cliff, thunder rolling behind him like an echo of his anger.
"Day by day, your antics cross every limit," Indra thundered. "I will not tolerate this behavior any longer. How dare you bless those people with rain... my rain?"
Karna turned slowly to face him.
He stood calm with his feet planted on the cliff edge, cloak fluttering in the wind, earrings glowing steady against the storm.
"O' Lord Indra… please forgive this mortal son of Lord Surya. Unless I do that, I cannot summon you right away. I request that you bless them with rain instead. The people in this barren land are dying without water."
Indra's laugh was sharp, cutting through the downpour. "No. I will not. Those who disrespect me... who do not pray to me… do not deserve my blessings."
Karna's expression did not change as he answered, "My guru taught me that respect is not given, but it must be earned by actions. And moreover, your authority was given by the Trimurthi for the sake of helping people. Why do you ask for respect in exchange for using those powers, like some merchant trading goods?"
Indra's face darkened. Lightning flashed behind him. "You brat… how dare you speak down to me like that? Not even your father dares lecture me. Today I will teach you a lesson in his place."
Karna frowned slightly. "I apologize if my words sounded disrespectful. But it is my duty to uphold dharma when there is injustice happening before my eyes. If you don't want to consider it a request, then consider it a demand, Lord Indra. Bless this land with rain again, or I will force you to do so."
Indra laughed again, louder this time, echoing across the mountains. "Hahaha! After learning under the tutelage of Lord Parashurama, I thought you would turn wise. But you are just a fool, hung on the arrogance of possession of celestial weapons. You want to challenge me, the King of Heaven?"
Karna's eyes narrowed.
His voice remained steady, almost gentle, as he replied, "Well… Lord Indra, you might have already forgotten, but should I remind you of how many times you ran away from Heaven every time an asura attacked? You are not invincible, Uncle." After a pause, Karna added, "And I won't disrespect my Guru's teachings by using such a celestial weapon against you, but that doesn't mean I would back down. Consider this the final request or warning."
Indra's laughter died.
His face twisted in rage, and the vajra in his hand crackled with white lightning. "So be it. Let us see if Parashurama's student can stand against the King of Gods!"
He hurled the vajra downward, a blinding streak of thunder aimed straight at Karna's chest.
Karna moved, stepping sideways, and raised his hand, dismissing the bow. A double-edged broadsword then materialized in his hand. He swung once. The blade met the vajra mid-air.
*Boom*
A deafening crack split the sky. Sparks rained down like falling stars. Vajra spun away, embedding itself in the cliff wall behind Karna with a thunderous boom.
Indra stared in disbelief. "You… deflected it?"
Karna lowered his sword. "I do not wish to fight you, Uncle. But I will not let these people suffer because of your pride."
Indra snarled.
He summoned storm clouds around himself, dark, swirling, laced with lightning. The wind howled across the cliff. Rain turned sharp, like needles.
He then raised both hands. Bolts of lightning rained down, not one, but a dozen of them, each aimed to strike Karna where he stood.
Karna closed his eyes for a heartbeat, accepting the lightning strikes.
The Golden Armor flared to life, absorbing the lightning strikes one after another. With each lightning strike, Karna was forced to push back a step, after step, but he remained unharmed.
Meanwhile, his divine vision flickered awake, showing him the consequences of Indra's pride. He saw it clearly: if it continues, many casualties will occur.
Karna snapped his eyes open in resolution. "Uncle…"
Meanwhile, Indra charged down with his body wreathed in lightning, vajra recalled to his hand. The sky itself seemed to bend toward Karna.
Karna raised Suryatej once more.
Golden light poured from his earrings, from the armor beneath his skin, from the sword itself. He did not chant. He simply stood and met Indra's charge.
Their weapons clashed.