(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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The moment stretched thin—Like the world itself knew what came next could not be undone.
Devara did not hesitate.
His hand rose as he called for his bow—And answered.
The Pinakodanda bow appeared.
-Flash!
Not summoned—Called by him.
The string drew back as he drew it back—And the air around him began to change as his intention reached his bow.
The sky twisted too on his side.
Clouds spiraled inward—Pulled into a violent, rotating storm.
A tornado of energy formed—Not wind—Will.
As the lightning struck all around.
From the ground—A pillar rose from the Pinakodanda bow.
Dark. Purple. Blue.
Yogic energy condensed into something vast—Something sacred—Something dangerous as equal or even more powerful than the Brahmastra.
Devara's eyes didn't waver.
Because he knew what he was calling.
And what it would cost—If left unchecked or not controlled.
