Cold night wind swept across the balcony, lifting Satya's long hair as it danced against the darkness. The city slept below, unaware of the storm quietly taking shape above it.
Satya stood still.
His mind was no longer divided.
The plan was set.
No matter the cost, the corrupt ministers had to fall. And above all, the Prime Minister. There could be no hesitation now.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Shunga entered the chamber and bowed lightly. "Your Majesty."
Satya turned.
Beside Shunga stood a young man, no more than twenty-four or twenty-five. He wore the simple clothes of a commoner. An orange dhoti. Metal bangles on both wrists. His eyes were sharp. Alert.
Satya studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"So," Satya said calmly, "you're the one who will pretend to assassinate me."
His gaze hardened."Tell me… do you actually have skill, or are you just brave enough to die?"
Before the words fully left the air
The young man moved.
A sharp dagger flashed toward Satya's chest.
In a blink, Satya reacted.
He caught the attacker's wrist mid-strike, twisted it sharply, and sent the dagger flying across the room. The metal clattered against stone.
The young man stumbled back.
Satya released him slowly.
"Hm," Satya said, almost amused. "Not completely useless. You do have talent."
Shunga stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat.
That attack was fast. Precise. Deadly.
Yet the king had countered it effortlessly.
So this is the truth, Shunga thought.He is no amateur. Not anymore.
Elsewhere- The Capital, Night
Torchlight flickered through narrow streets as a cloaked figure moved silently through the shadows. The city was quiet, but danger breathed in every corner.
A wooden gate creaked open.
The man stepped inside a secluded house, hung the torch on the wall, and sat heavily on a wooden bed.
He removed his cloak.
The firelight revealed his face.
Vishaal Maurya.
His eyes burned with ambition.
"Once I become king," he muttered to himself, "I will lead this empire in the right direction. I will not live like a puppet like him."
Flashback- Years Ago
"…and with the guidance of his teacher, he laid the foundation of Akhand Bharat," a scholar said proudly.
A young boy sitting cross-legged raised his hand eagerly.
"Guruji," the boy said, his eyes shining, "when I grow up, I will become like Samrat Chandragupta Maurya. I will reunite Bharat once again."
The scholar smiled.
The boy was Vishaal.
But reality arrived early.
He was not the king's son.
No matter how sharp his mind was, no matter how strong his ideals were, the throne would never be his.
To prevent future conflict, to ensure Brihadratha would never face a succession war, Vishaal's father sent him far away from Pataliputra.
Not because Vishaal was weak.
But because he was too capable.
Back to the Palace
Satya lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Thoughts churned inside him like a slow-burning fire.
Brihadratha's parents are already gone, he thought.In this generation, there are cousins. Siblings.
One name stood out.
Vishaal Maurya… his elder cousin.
While thinking like this, satya falls asleep.