Scene 1 — The Weight of Training
Deep inside the city—
Where neon lights never reached—
A slum breathed quietly.
A woman moved between broken houses, handing food to children, old men, and tired mothers.
No one noticed that she never ate herself.
After the last plate was given, she walked away.
Toward a tunnel.
Dark. Narrow. Forgotten.
She entered.
At the end of the tunnel, a hall opened—walls stacked with gold bars, silver bricks, old wealth, new corruption.
She smiled softly.
"I've arrived, Veere."
Far away—
Veere paused.
He felt it.
Someone familiar.
Someone dangerous.
Still—he stayed composed.
If I prepare them properly… they might defeat her.
No fear.
Only calculation.
Back to the present trial—
Vaibhav stood inside the void.
Veere faced him calmly.
"I can teach you how to use your stone."
Vaibhav smiled—anger hidden inside it.
"Can you free me from this instead?"
Veere exhaled slowly.
"If it was possible," he said,
"I would have taken this burden from all of you long ago."
"But it isn't."
"You have to carry it."
Silence.
Vaibhav nodded slowly.
"What choice do I have?"
The void shifted.
Sand.
Endless desert.
Blinding sun.
Heat pressing from every direction.
Dry wind cutting skin.
"Sit," Veere said.
Vaibhav stared at the burning sand.
"I'm not insane."
Veere released a controlled pulse of cosmic pressure.
Vaibhav dropped to the sand.
Pain exploded across his nerves.
But he didn't scream.
Time stopped meaning anything.
Days.
Or minutes.
Or years.
Inside training—
It was all the same.
Later—
Vaibhav hung from a broken metal pole.
Hands torn.
Feet ripped open.
One eye destroyed.
Breathing—barely.
Alive—barely.
Veere stepped forward.
Placed his hand near Vaibhav's chest.
Riddhox energy flowed.
Bones reset.
Skin rebuilt.
Vision returned.
But not comfort.
Never comfort.
Veere watched him silently.
"Again," he said.
The heat didn't change.
The pain didn't change.
Only Vaibhav did.
Slower.
Heavier.
Harder to break.
Scene 2 — Little High (Part 1)
The scene began with a memory—
The Masked Man's voice, from some time earlier.
"Am I really going to train him?"
Excitement.
Curiosity.
Something almost personal.
Then—
The memory ended.
Back to the present—
Shlokh stood inside a white void.
No horizon.
No direction.
Only stillness.
In front of him—
The Masked Man.
Black trousers.
A jacket shaded in black, blue, and faint red streaks.
He looked ordinary.
Like someone you would pass in a crowd.
"Shall we begin?" he said.
Shlokh understood immediately.
"How?" he asked.
The Masked Man snapped his fingers.
Mist formed—thick and fast—rushing toward Shlokh like a living thing.
Another snap—
And the man vanished.
Shlokh's fear rose—
But his mind stayed sharp.
He listened.
Felt.
Tracked movement.
Then—
Presence.
Behind him.
Before he could react—
A hand touched his back.
Warm.
Wet.
Channeling something through blood—
Not Riddhox.
Something older.
Something unfamiliar.
Shlokh froze.
Complete body lock.
No movement.
No resistance.
Reality bent.
The Masked Man removed his mask.
Shlokh's father stood there.
Not fully real.
Not fully illusion.
A mind-constructed presence.
His father moved through scenes—
Breaking.
Tearing.
Destroying pieces of Shlokh's world.
Not graphically.
But completely.
Every emotional anchor.
Every safe memory.
Distorted.
Controlled.
Rewritten.
Inside the Masked Man's thoughts—
Pain resistance.
Layer one: mind.
Layer two: body.
Train both.
Double intensity.
Shlokh could not tell what was real.
Only that he had to endure it.
Scene 3 — Not Calm
The Voice of Creation spoke—
"Vaibhav's training… lasted a month."
But outside—
Time barely moved.
Then—
They woke.
All three.
Same place.
Same floor.
Same world.
Vaibhav sat up first.
His body felt heavier.
Older.
Used.
"Bro…" he said slowly,
"Veere told me… for one month… we were gone."
"No presence. No trace."
"Like we didn't exist."
"And while we were gone…"
"…everything stayed normal."
Shlokh nodded.
He understood without asking more.
Shourya smiled.
But not the same smile.
Sharper.
Quieter.
More aware.
Vaibhav noticed.
He changed.
Before he could say anything—
Shourya suddenly spoke.
"Bro."
Pause.
"Oye bro."
Then louder—
"I need food."
Shlokh exhaled.
"This idiot will never change."
And strangely—
That felt normal.
CH-19-LETHARGY: FATUITY