At the Pratap Singh Mansion, the evening sky hung low and dusky, streaked with gold and crimson — a mirror of the anticipation swirling inside. The great hall was silent except for the faint hum of the ancient energies radiating from the golden kalash that now rested on a velvet-draped table.
Kiara stood beside Varun, her fingers still tingling from where she had held the divine vessel. Across from her, Mishka and Angad watched with wide eyes, while Yuvaan leaned casually against a pillar — his usual smirk replaced by quiet curiosity.
Varun exhaled deeply and brought out the golden key Swarnaprabha had entrusted him. "Let's end this," he murmured.
Carefully, he fitted the key into the kalash. The chamber filled with a low hum, the air vibrating with energy. For a moment, everyone held their breath — but then, click. Nothing.
Varun frowned, twisted the key, tried again. The kalash remained unmoved, as if mocking him.
"Maybe the key's in the wrong position?" Angad suggested.
Mishka shook her head. "No. The key's right — it just… doesn't want to open."
They tried again — once, twice, thrice. The kalash glowed faintly, then dimmed each time, refusing their touch. Finally, Varun stepped back, frustration clouding his features. "It's no use. It's locked beyond divine means."
Kiara sighed softly. "Baaldevi said this kalash holds the other half of Jishwa's powers… then why won't it open?"
In the corner, Yuvaan, who had been silently watching the entire ordeal, chuckled under his breath — a dry, amused sound.
"Maybe," he said, stepping forward with a smirk, "the problem isn't the key… but the one trying to use it."
Everyone turned to him, puzzled.
Yuvaan's eyes gleamed faintly, the flicker of his old, dangerous confidence returning. "Divine locks don't open to effort. They open to destiny."
Kiara looked at him sharply. "And what are you suggesting, Yuvaan?"
He shrugged lightly, gaze fixed on the kalash. "That maybe… the kalash is waiting for the one it believes in — not the one who believes they're worthy."
The room fell silent, the air thick with uncertainty. Varun exchanged a glance with Kiara, then slowly asked, "And who exactly does it believe in?"
Yuvaan smiled faintly. "That, brother-in-law, we're about to find out in the future."
The tension in the hall of Pratap Singh Mansion hung like a veil. The golden kalash still shimmered faintly on the table, mocking their every failed attempt to unlock it. Kiara sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Maybe we're missing something," she murmured. "If it truly contains Jishwa's powers, perhaps Father can help us decode it. He's studied the Reeva scriptures more than anyone."
Varun looked at her with hesitation. "Kiara, I'd agree—but Papa isn't here."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"He left early this morning," Varun said grimly. "He's gone to the Reevavanshi Council. There's been… unrest."
The room fell silent again. The name Reevavanshi always carried weight — a word heavy with centuries of duty,
Scene – The Reevavanshi Stronghold, The Council Hall
The Reevavanshi fortress stood proud atop the cliffs of Devgiri, a temple carved by warriors, not monks. Its walls were engraved with mantras of protection, and its corridors hummed faintly with the echo of divine resonance from weapons consecrated by the gods themselves.
Inside the great council chamber, the elders gathered — men and women clad in armor marked with sacred symbols of Brahmaastra and Trishul. At the center of the hall, Vikram Shetty stood firm, his hands clasped behind his back as the elders' voices clashed like blades.
"Your daughter married a cursed soul!" thundered Elder Bhadranath, rising from his seat. "Do you even realize who he is, Vikram? That boy carries the essence of Kaal — the same dark force that brought ruin upon the world twenty-five years ago!"
Another elder hissed, "No matter how human he appears, his soul belongs to the Abyss. He is its echo, its reincarnation. You brought that very threat into your home!"
Vikram's jaw tightened, but he spoke without flinching.
"Yuvaan Pratap Singh is my son-in-law — yes. But he is not Kaal. He may carry that soul, but he carries a choice as well. The gods themselves decided to give him another chance, in human form. If they believed in his redemption, who are we to deny it?"
The hall fell silent for a heartbeat.
Elder Bhadranath's eyes narrowed. "You think a man can fight what he is? Darkness does not change, Vikram — it only hides until the time is right."
Vikram met his gaze. "Then perhaps you have forgotten what the Reevavanshi stand for. We are not executioners. We are protectors — of balance. If Yuvaan tips toward light, he could be the key to ending Kaal's cycle forever."
Another elder, a woman draped in white and gold, interjected softly. "And if he tips toward the dark?"
Vikram hesitated only a moment before answering. "Then the blame is mine alone. If Yuvaan becomes Kaal again, let the name Vikram Shetty be erased from the Reeva scrolls. I will bear that sin."
The hall murmured — some moved, some still unconvinced.
Finally, the High Elder, Mahasena Dev, spoke gravely.
"So be it. But mark my words, Vikram. Should the Abyss rise again through that boy, your family will fall with it. And the Reevavanshi will not come to your aid."
Vikram bowed his head respectfully. "Then I accept that fate. But I still believe light runs stronger in him than shadow ever will."
The tension eased slightly as the discussion shifted.
"The matter of Jishwa's return remains unresolved," said another elder. "We've scoured every sacred archive, every battlefield, yet the divine signature of her power eludes us."
Vikram nodded. "It won't for long. My children are already searching — guided by the remnants of Jishwa's energy. Wherever her powers are reborn, they will find her… and when they do, we'll finally have our weapon of balance before Kaal's darkness rises again."
The elders exchanged wary looks, unsure whether to call it faith or foolishness.
Outside, thunder rolled across the mountains like a divine warning.