Earth.
A silent blue sphere floating in endless darkness.
No one knew that on this day, something ancient had begun to stir.
Village of Rudrapur, India
Garud was eighteen.
His hands were covered in mud as he worked in the fields beside his parents. The smell of wet soil, the sound of birds, and the distant bells of the Shiva temple made the morning feel peaceful—almost sacred.
The temple stood on a small hill near the village, old and unchanging, just like the faith of the people who lived here.
Garud wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced at it, as he always did.
Something about it felt… heavy today.
The First Sign
The earth shook.
At first, it was light—like a breath beneath the soil.
Then—
GRRRRRRRR—
The ground cracked.
Garud lost his balance as the field split open. His mother screamed. His father grabbed her arm as huts rattled and stones fell from the temple walls.
"भूकंप?!"
"Earthquake?!"
The peaceful village turned into chaos.
When the Sky Changed
Dark clouds swallowed the sun.
Rain poured down violently, soaking the land in seconds. Wind howled like a beast awakened from sleep.
Then—
BOOOOM!
A massive bolt of lightning tore through the sky and struck the Shiva temple.
Fire exploded. Smoke rose into the storm.
The villagers ran.
Some cried. Some prayed. Some froze in fear.
Garud did not.
A Choice
He pulled his parents toward a safe house, his heart pounding.
"माँ, पिताजी—यहाँ!"
"Mom, Dad—this way!"
When they were safe, another thunder shook the sky.
Garud turned.
The temple was burning.
And something inside him… responded.
A pull.
A call.
This is not natural.
He clenched his fists.
"मैं देख कर आता हूँ," he said.
"I'll go see what happened."
His mother reached for him, fear in her eyes.
"मत जाओ, गरुड़!"
But Garud had already started walking.
Toward the storm.
Toward the fire.
Toward his fate.