"I asked something," Aaryan said quietly, bringing the severed head close. "Can't you hear?"
The look on Aaryan's face was cold, expressionless, like that of a statue looking at a person—lifeless.
The Rakshas wasn't dead yet. The look on its face showed shock—sure—but was it because its head was severed in an instant or because of the God it worships now holding its severed head?
The Rakshas suddenly started laughing loudly; its voice destroyed the whole silence of the district.
But that wasn't exactly a laugh. It was... something else. Something complex.
Aaryan was surprised when he saw the Rakshas laughing like a maniac, though he sealed the feeling of surprise inside.
"Why are you laughing?" Aaryan asked.
"You know the answer, don't you, God?" the Rakshas replied sarcastically. "I think I haven't introduced myself, right?" The Rakshas paused and looked at the hand by which he was holding its head.
"Well, I guess it's late but better late than never." The Rakshas let out a brief laugh.
"So, I am a Rakshas, as you know, God. My name is Amar. And the reason why I am here is—"
"Shut up!" Before the Rakshas could complete its words, Aaryan cut it off.
"I couldn't care less about who you are and why you came here, but what I do care about is why the hell did you do this?" Aaryan said. The emotions he tried to hide slipped into his words.
"You're saying like you don't care about me, but your eyes say otherwise," the Rakshas replied.
The look in Aaryan's eyes was void as always, but there was a flicker of something in that void—the flicker of emotion: pity.
Aaryan's biggest pride, his eyes—the eyes which see everything, hide emotion or weakness—but today, Aaryan learned that they reveal the very things and emotions they hide too.
"I didn't think I would feel anything other than hatred towards the likes of Rakshas.
Then, for what am I feeling pity for this piece of shit? I know it worked to become what it is, but is it really important or even holds any value against what it has done—killing thousands of lives, destroying livelihoods, turning this place of peace into a place of chaos," Aaryan thought.
Though not a single word escaped his mouth to answer the Rakshas, the Rakshas—Amar—took that very silence as the answer.
"The look in your eyes is clear as holy water, showing what's inside perfectly," Amar spoke, breaking the silence. Amar suddenly started to laugh again. "You're feeling bad for feeling anything towards the likes of me, aren't you, God?"
Aaryan was shocked when he heard Amar's words.
"I don't know why you're feeling like that towards me, but I really think you shouldn't," Amar said. The expression on its face seemed very unpleasant and strange to Aaryan. The look on Amar's face was as if it had completed its mission, even while being literally beheaded.
While Aaryan was thinking, something was moving. Aaryan felt something was off, but he didn't know what. "Yes, you're right," Aaryan said, agreeing. "So, think of my pity for you as an achievement for yourself, because it isn't every day that lowlifes like you get pity from someone like m—"
Stab!
Aaryan couldn't finish his words. His body became cold in an instant; he felt an intense pain in his chest. Aaryan's vision blurred, and he vomited blood. During this time of weakness, Aaryan's grip loosened, and Amar's head fell like a ball.
Aaryan realized that the head of Amar was no longer there in his hands.
"It's crazy that even now, you're trying to take your shallow revenge and not trying to save yourself," Amar said.
Aaryan ignored its words and reached out to the ground to pick the head up. But when he bent down, he noticed that he was stabbed by a giant sword.
"How come I didn't know that I was hit?" Aaryan thought.
The sword pulled back from Aaryan's body.
Thud!
Aaryan fell to the ground. His body felt numb and cold, his eyes heavy and vision blurred.
With his blurry eyes, Aaryan saw the one who stabbed him. Aaryan's eyes widened, his face turned pale. After all, the one who stabbed him was the beheaded body of Amar.
"I thought your body was decapitated. Then... how?" Aaryan asked, his voice hoarse.
"You thought beheading me was enough to kill me," Amar taunted.
Then, the eyes of Aaryan truly lost everything—the warmth, the rage, the desire—everything. At last, he reached his end.
Amar, with a huge grin, watched Aaryan's death as an accomplishment.
"May your eyes open again in the afterlife," Amar taunted at Aaryan's dead body.
After that, Amar's decapitated body bent down, picked up its head, and placed it back. Amar's head healed in an instant.
"But still, I didn't think that I could kill you. But guess what, no one knows what happens," Amar said to Aaryan's corpse, laughing like a child who had won its imaginary battle.
Snap!
A sound came.
Hearing the sound, Amar looked in the direction and blinked. Amar was trembling—but this time not with excitement, but with something primal—fear.
When Amar opened its eyes again, the very first thing it saw was... its own body burning.
Amar couldn't process what happened.
Amar realized that its head was still floating—but the question was how?
"Am I beheaded again? But who did that? Or who could do that? Most importantly, who is holding my head?" Amar thought, its mind a mess, head trembling tremendously.
Then a chill ran down Amar's spine as it realized something it was trying not to notice. "Could it be... Aaryan, the God?"
"But how could it be?" In Amar's eyes, it beat Aaryan, and there was no room for doubt. "What am I thinking? The dead don't come back," it consoled itself.
"Yes. The dead don't return."
An awfully familiar voice rang in Amar's ears. The same coldness, the same tone, the same voice... and the same God—Aaryan.
Amar's head was lifted up, and it saw its biggest nightmare—Aaryan, with a straight, expressionless face, was looking directly into Amar's eyes.
"How—how are you alive?" Amar asked, lips trembling, panic clear as day.
"How, you ask?" Aaryan replied. "I wasn't even dead to begin with."
As soon as those words struck Amar's ears, its mind went on a rampage. "What do you mean you weren't even dead to begin with? I literally saw you die, getting pierced by my beheaded body. Then how?" Amar lost its mind and asked Aaryan.
"You saw me die. So, what of it?" Aaryan asked.
When Amar heard Aaryan's words, it instantly got its answer. "It was all an illusion," Amar said. Even though it sounded unbelievable, the man in front of Amar was even more unbelievable.
As Amar thought this, its mind became clear. Amar felt strange—but not the kind that is disturbing, rather the kind that puts you at ease, strangely. Amar felt happy and content. Amar itself didn't know why, but even being a fly to its God now felt like a blessing.
"You used your sin on me, right, God?" Amar asked. Its lips curled beautifully upwards, forming a smile full of fulfillment and acceptance.
Seeing that smile, Aaryan felt something unfamiliar. He chuckled softly, mocking himself. "So, this is what a smile of content and acceptance looks like."
Amar saw Aaryan's smile but didn't say anything—not because it had nothing to say, but because there was so much that the God of Amar was revealing with a smile that he couldn't with words.
Aaryan took a deep breath and replied, "Yes. I did."
Aaryan's words were small and brief, cold and indifferent to everyone—but that coldness of his was what made him a God to others.
"I see," Amar said. "Then, the next time, whenever or wherever we meet, I want to be a person, not an insect, to you."
After Amar finished its words, Aaryan instantly burned its head with his Mayav.
The fire burned the head completely. It didn't even look like it was burned—it looked like it was erased, as if it was never there. Aaryan felt strange for a moment but didn't give it much thought. After all, the job of the strongest wasn't just to kill the oppressor but to protect the oppressed too.
"I think I got my revenge," Aaryan said, looking at his failure—the corpse of the child. Aaryan's face was gloomy, but he recovered fast. "I couldn't protect him, and because of that, he is lying there, lifeless. But what I can do now is stop whining and save the others."
With that, Aaryan touched the child's lifeless, eternal resting body. "Why were you so weak? Why were you not like me? Why, just why?" Aaryan asked. His words were irrational, illogical, and sounded cold at the surface, but all of this was proven wrong by just a single drop of water—the water from Aaryan's greatest pride, his eyes' tears.
Aaryan stood up, steeled himself, wiped his tears, gave a final look to the boy and left.
With the last tear he wiped, he removed this burden of past from himself but the redness was still there to remind him that how painful is a cry.
"If I couldn't save one, I will prove myself by saving hundreds," Aaryan mumbled.