Vikram's fingers hovered over his phone, tension coiling in his chest like a live wire. He glanced at the fissure in the sky, the unnatural crack that seemed to pulse with some malevolent heartbeat. Every second counted.
"Everyone," he said, voice sharp, commanding, yet edged with urgency, "the situation has escalated. The one we feared—the mother of Kaal—is stirring. We cannot wait."
Yuvaan and Kiara exchanged a glance, the weight of impending doom settling over them like a shroud.
Vikram tapped rapidly, sending an encrypted message to the Reeva Council:
"Mobilize all hunters immediately. Female hunters born exactly twenty-five years ago must be on site tonight at the Paanchgiri camp. Ensure preparations for tomorrow are flawless. Danger has intensified. Locate Jishwa at all costs."
He didn't wait for confirmation. Every moment wasted was a step closer to catastrophe.
Mishka leaned in, eyes scanning the sky, voice quiet but fierce. "If even one hunter falters… the darkness will seize the advantage."
Kiara gripped Yuvaan's arm, her fingers tightening as her heart raced. "We've trained for this, right? We can find Jishwa before… before it's too late."
Yuvaan's crimson gaze swept the horizon, eyes reflecting a storm brewing far beyond the mortal realm. "We will. No matter what it takes, wifey. Darkness won't win—not this time."
The wind picked up, rustling the trees around the mansion, as if echoing the urgency in Vikram's command. Somewhere, the Reeva hunters would be receiving the call. Somewhere, destiny was moving. And tonight, the hunt for Jishwa had truly begun.
Kiara looked at the sky again. The crack had widened slightly, a reminder that the mother of Kaal's awakening was no longer a distant threat—it was imminent.
At the Pratap Singh mansion, the Afternoon sun filtered gently through the grand windows, casting golden patterns across the polished marble floors. Chandrika had already arranged the puja altar, incense curling in delicate spirals into the air, filling the room with a fragrant serenity.
Bhoomi, Susheela, Vinod, Aakash, and Riddhi gathered around, their expressions a mixture of reverence and quiet determination. The air was thick with both devotion and the weight of the battles to come.
Chandrika, her voice calm yet commanding, began the chants. "Om Namah Shivaya… May the divine light guide our paths, protect the innocent, and give strength to those who fight for righteousness."
Bhoomi placed her hands together, murmuring a heartfelt prayer, while Susheela whispered mantras she had learned as a child, her eyes closed in deep concentration. Aakash and Vinod joined in, their voices tentative at first, then stronger, weaving together a tapestry of faith. Riddhi, holding a small diya, placed it carefully on the altar, her youthful energy lending a subtle warmth to the solemn ceremony.
Kiara watched from the side, silently joining their prayers. Though she was young, the intensity in her gaze revealed the courage she carried. "May goodness prevail," she whispered under her breath, a fervent promise echoing in her heart.
The flames of the diyas flickered as if acknowledging the prayers, dancing in tandem with the hopes and fears of the family. Outside, the world continued unaware of the storm approaching—but inside the Pratap Singh mansion, a fortress of faith and unity had been built, ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead.
Chandrika concluded the puja, her hands raised toward the heavens. "May the gods bless our warriors, guide our loved ones, and illuminate the path that lies before us. The battle is coming, but we are not alone."
Kiara exchanged a look with her family, a quiet, shared understanding passing between them: they were ready.
The afternoon sunlight spilled across the grand hallway of the Pratap Singh mansion as Yuvaan descended the stairs, his usual black attire replaced by a striking shade of blue that seemed to reflect the calm before the storm. He moved with a measured grace, his eyes scanning the room until they rested on Bhoomi.
He paused before her, bowing his head slightly. "Mom," he said, voice low but sincere, "please bless us for what's to come."
Bhoomi placed her hand over his head, her touch gentle yet firm. "May courage guide your steps, Yuvaan. May your heart remain steadfast and your mind sharp. Return to us safely, my son."
Kiara stepped forward next, her palms folded in respect. "Moti Baa," she said softly, "please bless us."
Bhoomi's eyes softened as she placed her hand on Kiara's head. "May your spirit never waver, child. Fight with truth in your heart and love in your soul."
From the side, Angad straightened and said, "I'll come with you. You don't have to face this alone."
Chandrika, standing near the doorway, extended her hands over all three of them. "Go with the blessings of the divine. May the gods watch over you and bring you back victorious. Remember, strength lies not just in power, but in unity and faith."
Yuvaan nodded, a rare hint of humility touching his usually confident demeanor. Kiara squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his presence grounding her courage.
Together, the trio stepped out of the mansion, leaving behind the comforting walls that had seen so much love and struggle. The path ahead was uncertain, the shadows long, but they moved forward with the prayers of their family guiding every stride.
The world outside seemed to hold its breath, the wind whispering secrets of the trials yet to come.