(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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At the very edge of Gandhara—Where celebration had not yet fully reached, and shadows still clung to the earth—Two figures emerged from the forest.
Not as travelers. Not as guests.
But as survivors.
Their steps were slow. Measured.
Every movement carrying the weight of exhaustion that had gone beyond pain… into numbness.
They were none other than Devaki and Vasudeva.
Their clothes bore the story of escape.
Torn. Dust-stained all over.
Marked by branches, thorns… and urgency.
In Devaki's arms—A newborn.
Wrapped carefully. Protected fiercely by her.
Not a cry. Not a sound.
As if even the child understood—Silence meant survival.
Behind them lay the forest.
Ahead—Gandhara.
And with it—Light.
