The air in Aryan Kapoor's office crackled with tension, the blinding LEDs flooding the vast room with unbearable light. Amar stood at the threshold, shadows struggling against the glare, his golden eyes locked on Kapoor, who sat in his revolving chair, the wall of 400 monitors dark behind him. The three ministers—Gupta, Singh, and Reddy—huddled in a corner, their faces pale with fear. Both men were locked in a silent battle of wills: Amar, desperate to save the contracted villagers and fighters, and Kapoor, scheming to kill the God of Darkness before his own power crumbled.
Kapoor's fingers subtly tapped his watch, a faint click-click-click sending a coded signal to the other 25 proxies in his council. Whoever's listening, come, he thought, his Sound power vibrating through the device. He knew time was short—Amar's restraint was his only shield, but if forced to release his contracts, he'd be defenseless.
Amar, sensing the deadlock, plunged into his inner void, calling to the Darkness. The cosmic ocean stirred, its voice a deep rumble. "Amar, you face a choice. Lives hang in the balance. Speak."
"I won't kill them," Amar said, his voice urgent. "Kapoor's contracted hundreds—villagers, fighters. If I kill him, they die. Is there a way to save them? Break his Sound contract?"
The Darkness hummed, amused yet grave. "His contracts bind their souls. But you, my proxy, are no ordinary vessel. You can form contracts—any number—as long as they hear your call. Your Darkness grows with each bond, not weakens. Unlike others, you can claim them all at once. Take his contracted, bind them to you, then end him."
Amar's chaotic heart surged. "All at once? No limit?"
"None," the Darkness replied. "Your power is boundless. Call, and they'll answer."
Amar snapped back to the room, shadows flaring despite the light. He faced Kapoor, his voice a low growl. "Last chance, Aryan. Release everyone—villagers, fighters—or you die."
Kapoor stood, his goggles glinting, a fake smile masking his fear. "You're bluffing, Amar. You won't kill me—not while they're tied to me. I won't release them. Never. Do what you must."
Amar's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Kapoor lunged, his attacks powered by Sound—sonic booms erupting, air vibrating with force. Amar dodged, his fluid form weaving through blasts, shadows deflecting the worst. Kapoor struck again, fists and kicks at the speed of sound, but Amar's reflexes were sharper. With a single punch, shadows surging around his fist, Amar struck Kapoor's gut. The Man crashed against his chair, gasping, blood trickling from his mouth. "How… are you so strong?" he wheezed.
"You're just that weak," Amar said coldly, standing over him.
Kapoor staggered up, desperation fueling another sonic assault—waves of sound tearing through the room. Amar dodged again, landing another gut punch, sending Kapoor sprawling. "I gave you a chance," Amar said, voice icy. "You lost it."
At that moment, A hundred and fifty fighters stormed in, led by Rajan, the grizzled captain of the 1000. Their visors gleamed, rifles ready, Sound pulses humming. Amar reacted instantly, shadows surging to seize Kapoor, pinning him in a chokehold. "One step closer, and I snap his neck," Amar roared, his voice echoing with darkness.
The fighters froze, weapons raised but hesitating. Rajan, eyes wide at Kapoor's bloodied form, stepped forward cautiously. "What do you want, God of Darkness?" he demanded, voice steady but laced with fear.