The forest remained silent as the ring settled onto Rudranatha Siddhar's finger, its emerald core glowing faintly, as if it had finally found its purpose. For a moment, no one spoke. The weight of what had just happened lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Then one of the Divine Architects stepped forward, his voice no longer calm—but urgent.
"The weapon has already been found."
Rudranatha's eyes shifted slightly. "By whom?"
"Men," another replied. "Not seekers… not protectors."
"Users."
The third Architect continued, his tone colder now.
"They do not understand what they hold. They will not respect it. And when they fail to control it… the world will pay the price."
Rudranatha closed his eyes briefly, as if already seeing the outcome.
"And you believe I can stop them?"
"It is not belief," the first Architect said.
"It is necessity."
A pause followed.
Then the Architect raised his hand slightly, pointing toward the unseen distance—as if the weapon itself existed within his sight.
"Before you approach the Astra… you must not touch it directly."
Rudranatha listened carefully.
"Raise your palm," the Architect continued, demonstrating slowly. "Let the ring face the weapon."
"The ring will adapt first… not you."
The second Architect stepped in.
"If the ring accepts the Astra's aura… then, and only then… you may lift it."
Rudranatha looked at the glowing emerald on his finger.
"And if it does not?"
Silence.
Then the third Architect answered.
"If you fail the mission…or you die"
"…your soul will be bound into the ring."
The wind shifted.
"Trapped," he continued quietly.
"Not dead."
"Not alive."
"…Forever."
For the first time, the weight of the mission truly settled.
But Rudranatha did not step back.
He simply nodded once.
"Then there is no room for failure."
The Architects said nothing more.
Because there was nothing more to say.
Rudranatha turned slowly, his gaze lifting toward the sky. The clouds above had already begun to gather, thick and restless, as if responding to his will.
A faint rumble echoed in the distance.
"If they cannot leave…" he murmured quietly,
"…they cannot spread this."
His fingers tightened slightly.
The ring pulsed.
The sky answered.
Dark clouds rolled in unnaturally fast, swallowing the fading light. Winds picked up, bending trees, scattering dust, carrying the scent of rain before it even began.
Then—
Thunder.
Not natural.
Controlled.
Lightning cracked across the sky in violent streaks, followed by rain that fell harder than any storm before it, drowning the land in seconds.
Far away—
Inside a secured military camp—
Reya Hitler stood near a large observation window, watching the sudden storm with narrowed eyes.
"This wasn't in the forecast," one officer said nervously, checking the holographic display.
Reya didn't respond immediately.
Her eyes were fixed on the sky.
On the lightning.
On the intensity.
"…This isn't natural," she said quietly.
Another scientist stepped closer. "Ma'am, the flight is ready. We can leave within the hour."
Thunder cracked again, louder this time, shaking the structure slightly.
Rain slammed against the glass like waves.
Reya shook her head slowly.
"No."
The room went silent.
"The aircraft won't survive this storm," she continued calmly. "We don't risk the asset."
Her gaze shifted slightly—
Toward the open field outside.
There, suspended mid-air by controlled gravitational pads, the divine shotgun hovered in place, glowing faintly even through the rain, untouched by the chaos around it.
For a moment—
Even she seemed… cautious.
"Then what's the alternative?" the officer asked.
Another man quickly brought up a map, projecting it into the air.
"There's a route," he said, pointing across the terrain.
"If we move by ground… we can bypass this storm zone."
Reya stepped closer.
"Where?"
He zoomed in.
"A village region," he replied.
"Sathankulam."
He traced the path.
"From there, we can reach a stable airport outside the storm range… and fly back to Germany."
Reya stared at the map for a moment.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Then she nodded.
"Prepare the convoy."
Her eyes lifted once more—
Back to the floating weapon.
"…We move with it."
Outside, the storm intensified.
Lightning split the sky again.
Rain poured harder.
The convoy moved slowly through the narrow forest road, tires crunching over gravel and broken branches as the sky above grew darker with every passing minute. Rain clouds had already swallowed the sun, and distant thunder rolled like a warning no one wanted to acknowledge. Inside the lead vehicle, Reay Hitler sat silently, her fingers resting against the armrest, her gaze fixed ahead—but her thoughts were on the weapon behind them.
"You're certain it's stable?" she asked calmly.
A man seated across from her adjusted his glasses nervously. "Yes, ma'am. The gravonium pads are maintaining equilibrium. No direct contact has been made."
She leaned back slightly. "Good. That weapon… will change everything."
Behind them, in the secured transport van, the divine shotgun hovered mid-air, suspended by the soft hum of gravonium energy. It rotated slowly, golden and white aura faintly flickering around the barrel, the Sanskrit engravings glowing like something alive—something aware.
Far away, hidden between layers of forest and silence, the sage moved quickly.
His breathing was steady, but his eyes were sharp, focused. The ring on his finger glowed faintly, pulsing with warmth as if guiding him, pulling him forward. Every step he took felt urgent, like time itself was closing in behind him.
"…I'm close," he whispered under his breath.
The glow intensified.
Not random.
Not uncertain.
It was leading him.
The convoy came to an abrupt halt.
A massive tree had fallen across the road, blocking the entire path.
The drivers slammed the brakes, tires screeching slightly against the wet ground as the vehicles stopped one by one. Soldiers stepped out cautiously, scanning the surroundings while rain began to fall harder, soaking through uniforms and turning the road into mud.
Reay stepped out slowly, her expression tightening as she looked at the obstacle.
"This wasn't here before," she said, her tone sharp.
One of the officers spoke quickly, "Probably the storm, ma'am. The wind—"
"No," she cut him off. "This is deliberate."
She turned slightly. "Clear it."
A supersoldier stepped forward, the gravonium suit around his body activating with a low mechanical hum. Blue energy pulsed along the suit's veins as he raised his hand slowly toward the fallen tree.
The air around it began to distort.
The tree trembled.
Then—slowly—lifted.
Not easily.
Not cleanly.
But it moved.
At that exact moment—
The sage arrived.
Hidden behind thick foliage, his eyes locked onto the convoy. The ring burned brighter now, almost reacting violently, confirming what he already knew.
"That's it…" he whispered.
His gaze shifted.
One van.
Different from the rest.
Guarded.
Protected.
He moved without hesitation.
Silent.
Fast.
Precise.
Slipping between shadows and rain, his body blending into the chaos of the storm as he reached the back of the transport van. His hand touched the metal door for a brief second.
The ring flared.
The lock clicked open.
The door creaked slightly as he pulled it open.
And there it was.
Floating.
Radiating.
Alive.
The divine shotgun.
For a moment, even he paused.
Not from fear.
But from presence.
The weapon felt… aware of him.
Watching him.
Judging him.
He slowly raised his hand, the ring facing the weapon as instructed.
The moment they aligned—
A surge of golden light burst outward.
The aura from the shotgun flowed toward the ring like a river finding its path, merging, syncing, stabilizing. The air vibrated softly, and the hum of energy deepened into something calm.
Something accepting.
"…It adapts," he whispered.
He stepped forward and grabbed it.
This time—
It didn't resist.
Quickly, he reached into his cloth pouch, pulling out two handmade shells—crafted from wood, layered with turmeric powder and sacred bindings. He loaded them carefully into the double barrels, his movements steady despite the urgency.
A breath.
A pause.
Then—
"STOP!"
Reay's voice cut through the rain.
Sharp.
Cold.
Dangerous.
The sage turned slowly.
Surrounded.
Supersoldiers.
Weapons raised.
Gravonium suits humming.
Reay stepped forward, her eyes locked onto him.
"You really thought you could just take it and walk away?" she asked, almost amused.
The sage didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he lifted the shotgun.
Not toward them.
But toward himself.
Placing the barrel vertically against his forehead.
The soldiers laughed.
Confused.
Mocking.
"Is he insane?" one muttered.
The sage closed his eyes.
Softly.
Calmly.
And began to chant.
A low Sanskrit mantra flowed from his lips, each word vibrating through the air, blending with the storm, with the thunder, with something far older than the world around them.
Reay frowned slightly.
"Shoot him."
Before they could react—
He aimed at the ground and he pulled the trigger.
BOOM.
The shot slammed into the ground.
Mud and water exploded upward.
Silence followed.
Then laughter.
"That's it?" one soldier scoffed.
The sage opened his eyes.
Slowly.
And pressed the trigger again.
BOOM.
This time—
The earth responded.
Golden vines erupted violently from the ground, glowing with divine energy as they twisted and coiled around the soldiers, binding their arms, legs, weapons—locking them in place instantly.
The forest came alive.
Roots cracked through soil.
Branches bent unnaturally.
Everything moved.
"Forbidden astra: Fourth Form — Sacred Forest Binding."
The soldiers struggled.
Panicked.
But couldn't move.
The sage lowered the weapon slightly, breathing steadily as he looked at them.
And then—
He smiled.
For the next few minutes, he spoke.
Not loudly.
Not angrily.
But with calm, cutting clarity.
"You chase power you don't understand."
"You think control means ownership."
"You think this weapon belongs to you."
His gaze rested on Reay.
"It doesn't."
Rain fell harder.
Thunder cracked.
Time slowed.
"You build machines… to imitate gods," he continued softly. "But you forgot one thing."
A small pause.
"Gods don't need machines."
Reay's expression didn't change.
But her eyes did.
The vines began to loosen.
Slightly.
Just enough.
And in that single moment—
She moved.
She pull out a handgun appeared from her belt.
She fired.
The bullet tore through the sage's shoulder.
His body jerked.
His teeth clenched.
But he didn't fall.
Instead—
His eyes sharpened.
For a brief second—
He imagined.
A vine.
Sharp.
Precise.
And instantly—
A golden vine shot forward—
Reay screamed.
Her arm—
Severed.
Silence shattered.
The sage didn't wait.
He turned and ran.
Through rain.
Through trees.
Through pain.
Blood soaked into his clothes, his grip tightening around the shotgun as his vision blurred slightly. Every step became heavier, his body weakening—but he didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
Finally—
The cave.
He stumbled inside, collapsing near the stone slab as the storm raged outside. His breathing slowed, uneven, his strength fading with every passing second.
With the last of his energy, he placed the shotgun onto the slab.
Carefully.
Respectfully.
Then he leaned back against the wall.
His eyes grew heavy.
"…I did… my part…" he whispered.
Silence.
And then—
His soul slipped free.
A faint light emerged from his body, drifting slowly toward the ring… and merging with it.
Outside, the vines loosened.
The soldiers broke free.
Reay, bleeding, furious, screaming orders—
"FIND HIM! FIND THE WEAPON!"
But the forest had already hidden it.
Vines.
Roots.
Shadows.
Everything sealed the cave.
They searched.
Fast.
Desperate.
But found nothing.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Finally—
Reay turned away.
"…Abort the mission."
The convoy left.
And the forest went silent again.
Darkness.
Stillness.
Time passed.
Then—
Blackness shifted.
A slow pull.
A deep void.
From veins…
To mind…
To memory—
Shiva's eyes open.