There were questions people asked aloud.
And then—
There were questions that lived in silence.
This one had waited long enough.
The evening court in Hastinapura was unusually quiet. No petitions. No debates. Just the low hum of oil lamps and the soft footsteps of servants withdrawing.
Krishna sat near a pillar, relaxed, watching the world breathe.
Vidura stood at the center of the hall.
He did not bow.
He did not hesitate.
"My lord Krishna," Vidura said clearly, "I have a question."
Every head turned.
Duryodhana stiffened.
Bhishma's fingers tightened on his staff.
Yudhishthira looked concerned—not for the question, but for the courage it required.
Krishna smiled gently. "Then ask."
Vidura inhaled.
"You guide kings," he said. "You prevent injustice before it blooms. You stop wars before they begin. Yet you claim neutrality."
Silence deepened.
"How," Vidura continued, "can one who changes outcomes still claim not to choose sides?"
The system chimed, amused.
«Ah. Philosophy Boss Fight.»
Krishna rose slowly.
Not to command.
To meet the question at eye level.
"I don't choose sides," he said calmly. "I choose thresholds."
Vidura frowned slightly. "Explain."
"When strength bullies," Krishna continued, "I intervene.
When pride blinds," he said, glancing briefly at Duryodhana, "I correct.
When virtue hesitates," his eyes met Yudhishthira's, "I steady."
Bhishma spoke quietly. "That still sounds like choosing."
Krishna nodded. "It is."
The room held its breath.
"I choose dharma," he finished.
The system chimed softly.
«Answer Clarity: Maximum.
Ego Damage: Distributed Evenly.»
Duryodhana laughed once, sharp. "Convenient."
Krishna looked at him calmly. "Is it?"
"You stop me when I push," Duryodhana said. "You guide them when they waver."
"Yes," Krishna agreed.
"So you favor them."
"No," Krishna replied. "I restrain you."
The difference landed hard.
Duryodhana's jaw tightened—but he said nothing.
Vidura bowed his head slowly. "Then tell me this."
Krishna waited.
"If both sides believe they act justly… what happens?"
Krishna's voice softened.
"Then dharma stops being about belief," he said, "and becomes about consequence."
The system chimed approvingly.
«Moral Framework Updated.
Audience Comprehension: Surprisingly High.»
Yudhishthira stepped forward. "And if we fail?"
Krishna met his gaze.
"Then I will not abandon you," he said gently. "But I will not carry you."
Relief crossed Yudhishthira's face.
Elsewhere in the hall, Karna listened intently.
"What if the world forces a choice?" Karna asked quietly.
Krishna turned to him fully.
"Then," Krishna said, "I will stand where the line was crossed—not where banners fly."
The weight of it settled over everyone.
No promises of rescue.
No declarations of victory.
Only responsibility.
Radha's presence brushed Krishna's awareness—far away, steady, grounding.
The system chimed one final time, subdued.
«Core Philosophy Established.
Neutrality Misconception: Resolved.
Future Conflict: Meaningful.»
Krishna returned to his seat.
The court slowly resumed breathing.
That night, Hastinapura slept differently.
Not afraid.
Aware.
Because the question had finally been asked—
And answered.
--chapter 29 ended--