No one spoke.
Not even when Limbo collapsed. Not also when then the rageing URUMI lay silent in the dirt, still humming faintly like it remembered the dance. Not when the last Spark of lightning fades withing thin air, leaving behind scorched earth with lot of marks and the smell of iron and ozon.
The corpses of giants and small animals were disintegrating like earth was cleaning and rotten energy was returning to nature itself, as if they were finally freed.
Silence pressed down on the battlefield, it wasn't peaceful nor the calm.
It was heavy... That was hard too digest.
The kind of silence that always follows after disaster, when people are afraid that always invite to strange gossips.
She was weak itself but Ela held limbo tightly as his body went slack, his weight suddenly too much for her alone to handle. Ronan caught him before he hit the ground fully, he's arms was straining as he pulled his son closer with little tremble.
Limbo's breathing was uneven.
Too fast one moment, other too shallow.
Mana leaked from him in unstable pulses, visible as faint distortion in the air, like heat rising off stone.
"Don't touch him," elder chaya said sharply, stepping forward.
Her voice cut through the fog, snapping several villagers out of their stunned paralysis.
Why! No one said, but rather have expression.
"He's not bleeding," Ronan said, panic barely contained. "He's —he's just—"
Something wish to to counter him, but word was hard to guess.
"Overdrawn," chaya finished grimly. She knelt, staff pressed to the ground, runes flaring faintly. "And unanchored."
She took a look at the battlefield...behind him.
At the scorched bodies that were vanishing, at the blackened trees and land, at the absence where entire giants had stood moments ago.
Fear crept into her eyes, not from the beast.
Fear of what — or whom had stopped them.
"He didn't just fight," she whispered. "He unraveled, he goes beyond."
No one argued.
Everyone had witnessed what happened.
Villagers stood frozen at the barrier line, weapons hanging uselessly in their hands.
Some tared at limbo. Others stared anywhere but him.
A few were shaking.
Not from the exhaustion, but by the realisation itself.
It was hard to believe, the beasts were gone.
But something far worse had stood in their place.
"He saved us," someone whispered, "if he wasn't present...who knows what happened, voice trembling.
Another replied, barely audible, "yes..but at what cost?"
Ronan heard it.
So Ela, they didn't respond, just a look.
Ronan lifted his son carefully, every muscle screaming as he carried his son away from the scorched ground. Ela stayed closed, one hand never leaving Limbo's chest, as if afraid he might disappear if she did, though she's herself struggling to balance.
The walk back into the village felt longer than it should have.
People stepped aside instinctively.
Some not in respect, but gratitude.
...and some, in fear.
Doors closed quietly as they passed.
Shutters were lowered.
Children were pulled indoors without questions.
No one cheered. No one thanked them.
Even the village had been saved, but something scared had been broken.
Limbo didn't wake that night.
Or the next few.
He lay on his bed, skin pale, veins faintly glowing beneath the surface like embers trapped under ash. His breathing stabilized, but his mana... didn't.
It circled restlessly.
Like a storm with nowhere to go.
Chaya stayed near the doorway, warding seals layered thick around the room.
"I can suppress the overflow," she told to Ronan quietly, " but I can't fix this."
She had already given him the silver bloom serum, which works but didn't at the same time.
Ronan sat beside the bed, hands cleanched
Together.
"What did he do?" He asked.
Chaya hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"He stepped past himself."
Ela looked up sharply. "Explain."
Chaya explain while meeting her eyes. "There are forms of power meant to be invoked and others meant to be endured, till the right moment."
She swallowed.
"He didn't invoke the....Tandava," she said. "He became it."
Ela closed her eyes...Tandava?
She had felt it.
That moment when his touch had burned and frozen and cut at once. When rage had poured off him like a second skin.
"Will it happen again?" Ronan asked.
Chaya didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she looked at limbo, at the faint scorch marks on his arms. At the tremors still running through his fingers.
"Yes," she said quietly. "If nothing changes."
That night, the village did not sleep.
Guards were still doubled patrols, not at the forest edge, but inside the settlement.
Not to protect from beasts.
But to be ready ...just in case.
After a week...
Limbo woke before dawn.
Not with a gasp, nor with a scream.
With weight.
His body felt wrong, too heavy, too hollow. Every muscle ached like it had been torned apart and stitched back together poorly.
He turned his head.
Ela was asleep in the chair beside him, her hand was wrapped around his wrist, grip was tight even in the sleep.
Ronan stood near the window, arms crossed staring out into the dark.
LIMBO swallowed.
His throat burned.
"Dad..."
The word came out with efforts.
Ronan turned instantly.
Ela also woke with sharp intake of breath.
Their relief was immediate and restrained.
"You're awake," Ronan said, carefully neutral.
Ela leaned forward, eyes barely holding tears while scanning his face.
"How do you feel?"
Limbo thought for the right answer.
"I... remembered everything."
Silence, suddenly filled out.
Ela flinched.
Ronan closed his eyes briefly.
"That's not good," chaya said from the doorway.
Limbo's gaze snapped at her.
The elder stepped inside slowly, staff tapping once against the floor. Her expression was calm, but guarded.
"Yo crossed a line," she said gently.
Limbo looked away.
"I know."
"No," chaya said. "You don't."
She moved closer.
"What you did wasn't just dangerous," she continued. "It changed how the world looks at you."
Limbo frowned. "The beasts are gone."
"Yes," chaya agreed. "And something else noticed."
That landed harder than any accusations.
Ela's grip titghned, Ronan straightened. "Who?"
Chaya shook her head. "Not who. What."
She looked back at limbo.
"The Tandava doesn't echo quietly," she said. "It announces itself."
Limbo felt something cold settle in his chest.
Fear—not of enemies.
Of himself.
Outside, the village was alive again.
But it moved differently now, more careful and more distant.
The storm had passed.
And everyone knew...
...Could it return?
Will Tandava... occur again.
Meanwhile....
Someone snapped open it's eyes.
Hahah....hahah .h..
Its appeared.... finally....
Tandava....
Haha
..a smile that shook the surrounding.