The rooftop wind howled like a wounded beast.
Rain hammered the concrete, washing blood into dark streams that slipped toward the edges of the building.
The bodies of the masked assassins lay scattered across the rooftop.
But Aarya could barely see them.
Pain consumed everything.
His right shoulder burnt as if molten iron had been driven into his flesh.
The black veins spreading beneath his skin pulsed like living serpents.
Every heartbeat sent another wave of fire through his body.
Arya Malhotra caught him before he collapsed.
Her hand gripped his arm firmly.
"Aarya!"
For the first time since they had met, her voice carried something beyond control.
Fear.
Karan Veer Rathore knelt beside him, silver eyes narrowing as he tore open the fabric around Aarya's shoulder.
The moment the wound was exposed, Arya's expression darkened.
A symbol had formed around the strike point.
A crescent of living shadow wrapped around a dragon's eye.
It pulsed faintly in violet-black light.
"The Shadow Mark," Karan said grimly.
Aarya gritted his teeth.
"It feels like something is moving inside me."
Karan's jaw tightened.
"It is."
The older man looked at him carefully.
"Mahakaal didn't attack your body."
His voice lowered.
"He attacked your soul."
A cold silence settled over the rooftop.
The dragon mark on Aarya's chest suddenly flared.
A violent heat spread through his entire body.
His vision blurred.
The city lights melted into streaks of gold and purple.
The storm clouds twisted above him.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
Aarya stood inside an ancient stone temple.
It was vast.
Endless pillars rose into darkness.
Each one was engraved with dragons, warriors, and crescent moons.
Purple flames burnt in floating braziers.
The air felt heavy.
Ancient.
Alive.
At the far end stood a massive obsidian dragon statue.
Its violet eyes glowed.
Watching him.
Aarya slowly looked down.
He was no longer in his hospital clothes.
Black-gold armour covered his body.
A spear rested in his hand.
Its shaft pulsed with violet fire.
A voice echoed behind him.
"So you finally arrive."
Aarya turned.
A man stood in the centre of the hall.
Tall.
Powerful.
Clad in the same black-gold armour.
His face was his own.
But older.
Harder.
Ancient.
Aaryaveer Dev.
Aarya's breath caught.
"This…"
His voice echoed strangely in the temple.
"A dream?"
Aaryaveer's lips curved slightly.
"No."
He stepped forward.
"This is the Dragon Mind Realm."
The temple floor trembled.
Darkness pooled beneath Aarya's feet.
It began to move.
A black mass rose from the ground.
Twisting.
Expanding.
Until it took the form of a massive serpent-dragon made of shadow.
Its crimson eyes glowed with hatred.
The Shadow Mark.
The corruption.
Its hiss echoed through the temple.
"Submit."
The beast lunged.
Aarya barely moved in time.
Its jaws crashed into the pillar behind him, shattering ancient stone.
Aaryaveer did not move.
His voice came calmly.
"Fight it."
Aarya glared.
"Helpful."
The beast struck again.
This time, Aarya's body reacted instinctively.
He stepped aside.
Twisted.
His spear came up naturally.
The movement felt familiar.
Remembered.
He drove the spear forward.
The violet blade pierced the creature's shoulder.
It screamed.
Black smoke erupted from the wound.
A voice roared inside his mind.
"Again!"
Aarya moved.
Faster.
One step.
A turn.
A slash.
Each strike came smoother than the last.
As if his past life was guiding his body.
The serpent lunged from above.
Aarya rolled beneath it and drove the spear upward.
The shadow beast shrieked.
Its body cracked.
Violet fire spread across its form.
Aaryaveer's voice thundered.
"Dragon Art: First Flame."
The words surfaced in Aarya's mind like a forgotten memory.
He thrust the spear forward.
The flames exploded.
The serpent-dragon shattered into black smoke.
Silence.
Only the purple braziers remained.
Aaryaveer stepped closer.
His eyes held something between approval and warning.
"The corruption is suppressed."
Aarya exhaled.
"Suppressed?"
Aaryaveer nodded.
"The Shadow Mark allows Mahakaal to sense you."
His voice lowered.
"And if it fully spreads, he can consume your soul."
The words chilled the air.
Aarya clenched his jaw.
"Then I'll kill him first."
For the first time, Aaryaveer smiled.
A warrior's smile.
"Good."
The temple began to dissolve.
The braziers dimmed.
The dragon statue's eyes glowed brighter.
Aaryaveer's voice echoed one last time.
"Kurukshetra awaits."
Aarya's eyes snapped open.
He was back on the rooftop.
Rain struck his face.
Arya Malhotra's hand still gripped his arm.
Her dark eyes searched his face.
"You were unconscious."
Aarya slowly sat up.
The pain in his shoulder had lessened.
The black veins had stopped spreading.
But the Shadow Mark remained.
Burning faintly beneath the skin.
Karan's expression sharpened.
"What happened?"
Aarya looked at his own hand.
For a moment, dark violet flames flickered between his fingers.
Then vanished.
His voice lowered.
"I saw him."
Karan's eyes narrowed.
"Aaryaveer?"
Aarya nodded.
Arya Malhotra stared.
"You're saying your past life talked to you?"
Aarya looked toward the storm clouds.
"Yes."
The rain began to lighten.
Dawn was approaching.
The city below slowly brightened.
But the storm inside him had only deepened.
His eyes lifted toward the horizon.
Kurukshetra.
The battlefield of destiny.
The place where blood, memory, and fate would collide.
He slowly stood.
The violet flames returned briefly around his fist.
This time steadier.
Controlled.
His voice turned cold.
"Get the car ready."
Arya looked at him.
"We're going now?"
Aarya's eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
"Yes."
His jaw tightened.
"Before the Red Moon rises."