The night was long for many students.
For some, it was merely restless.
For others, it was a nightmare.
The Gurukul Forest was not a friendly place at night. Even from the safety of the camp, the occasional howl or distant roar echoed through the trees, reminding everyone of what lurked beyond the firelight. Sleep came in fragments, and the tension in the air never quite left.
At exactly 6 a.m., a sharp siren blared across the camp, jolting even the light sleepers awake. Moments later, an amplified voice cut through the crisp morning air:
"All students—assemble in the field within thirty minutes."
The announcement left no room for hesitation.
Tents unzipped. Students scrambled to wash, eat, and grab their gear. Boots were laced, jackets thrown on, weapons checked. By the time thirty minutes had passed, every remaining student was standing in the open field.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a decorated uniform stood on the stage ahead of them. His presence carried the weight of authority, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd like he could read each person's resolve.
He was the commander of the battalion stationed here.
He stepped forward, took the microphone, and began speaking.
"Most of what you need to know was already explained yesterday by Captain Nurp," the commander said, his voice steady and strong. "But there are details you are still unaware of."
He paused, letting the anticipation build.
"We've already connected your watch IDs to Gurukul's private network. In a few minutes, you'll receive the GPS coordinates for the school gates. Your watch compass will guide you there."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone sharpening.
"There are danger zones along the way. Avoid them. Some contain animals with chakra—and if you wander in, you'll be dead before help arrives."
The murmurs that started yesterday returned, this time tinged with unease.
"You will carry your own food and water," the commander continued. "While traveling through the forest, you may collect materials and deliver them at the finish line for additional points. We've also placed treasure chests in certain locations. If your watch pings you with a side mission, it means one is nearby. Collect them if you dare—you can sell them in Gurukul or keep them for personal use."
Some students perked up at the mention of treasure, though the commander's tone quickly dampened their excitement.
"There are also points for hunting beasts. If you have no weapons, you may take one from the supply tent over there." He gestured to a canvas shelter on the side. "Lastly, understand this: you will be monitored at all times. We will interfere only if the situation turns critical."
"Any questions?" he asked.
Arun raised his hand. "Sir, what's the highest chakra level of the animals in the forest?"
The commander's lips curved into a smirk.
"Level Five—Demigod state."
The effect was immediate. Silence spread across the field. Faces paled. The students who had been nervously optimistic yesterday now swallowed hard, exchanging uneasy glances. Some looked like they might faint on the spot.
The commander scanned the crowd, noting every reaction.
"If any of you wish to withdraw from the trial," he said, "you may board the jeeps parked over there. They will take you directly to Gurukul. But understand this—you will earn no points, and your fellow students will start far ahead of you."
A few students didn't hesitate. Relief flooded their faces as they rushed toward the jeeps, climbing aboard without looking back. Others lingered, caught between fear and pride, debating whether the risk was worth it.
The commander gave them no comfort.
"You have until 8 a.m. to decide. Make your groups. Maximum of four per group. Choose wisely."
With that, he stepped down from the stage and walked toward his tent, leaving the students to sort themselves out.
The moment he left, the field exploded with noise.
Students who had been whispering before now openly called out to potential teammates. Those from powerful families—especially the Rakshakas clan—quickly formed groups among themselves, pulling in allies and friends they had arrived with. The atmosphere was a mixture of urgency and calculation.
Arun, standing beside Om, didn't waste time.
"Let's team up," he said.
Om nodded and glanced over at Rudra, who was a short distance away. He walked over to her.
"Want to join us?" he asked.
Rudra hesitated for only a second before giving a curt nod. "Sure."
Just like that, they had three members.
Arun grinned at the addition, giving Om a subtle thumbs-up. Now all they needed was one more person.
They began scanning the field for a suitable fourth teammate, but the search was harder than expected. More than 60% of the students were from Rakshakas families, and most had already claimed their own allies. Many of the remaining independents had quickly formed their own groups.
Minutes passed, and still—no luck.
Arun regrouped with Om and Rudra, a slight frown on his face. "Looks like we're going to have to run this with just three."
Then, suddenly—
A heavy hand landed on Om's shoulder.
Om tensed, startled. He hadn't noticed anyone approach.
He turned—and found himself looking up at a boy built like a professional bodybuilder. Even at sixteen, the stranger stood a solid five-foot-ten, his frame packed with muscle. He wore a black shirt and track pants, and slung casually across his back was a massive gada—a traditional mace.
"Hey," the boy said, offering a genuine smile. "I'm looking for a group for the trail. You got room for one more?"
Om glanced at Arun and Rudra. Neither objected. He turned back to the newcomer and extended his hand.
"Om."
The handshake was firm. "My full name's a bit long," the boy said, "but you can call me Ghato."
Arun and Rudra introduced themselves as well.
With the team finally complete, Om looked over the group—four people from different backgrounds, different strengths, about to face the same dangerous trial.
And though the forest beyond looked calm in the daylight, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking straight into something far bigger than any of them realized.