They say an ant can lift fifty times its own weight. They say an ant never gives up. They say an ant will fight until its body breaks.
But an ant is still an ant.
And an elephant is an elephant.
The elephant does not need to be fast. Does not need to be clever. The elephant simply exists. And that existence is enough to crush. Enough to destroy. Enough to make the ant remember that size is not just a number. Size is power. Size is truth. Size is the difference between standing and being ground into dust.
Veda looked up at the Asura.
Five heads. Fifty eyes. Six arms. A body that blocked out the red moon. The creature was not big. Big was a building. Big was a mountain. This thing was beyond big. This thing was a force of nature made flesh.
Veda had seen dinosaurs on television when he was a child. The old documentaries his mother used to put on while she cooked. The ones with the shaky puppet effects and the dramatic music. He had wondered what it would be like to stand next to a creature that size. How it would feel to look up and realize you were nothing.
Now he knew.
His heart pounded. His chest heaved. Blood dripped from his nose, his mouth, the cuts on his arms and chest. His body was screaming. Every muscle burned. Every breath was a war.
But his face showed nothing.
No fear. No pain. No doubt.
The killer's mask. The ghost's face. The expression he had worn for thirteen years while he hunted and killed and burned the world down.
Inside, beneath the mask, something trembled.
Fear.
Not the fear of dying. He had died before. On a rooftop in South Delhi. In a hospital corridor while his wife flatlined. On a muddy riverbank while his mother's ashes floated away.
This was different.
This was the fear of not being enough.
The Asura's giant eye moved. Focused on Veda. The fifty smaller eyes blinked in sequence, slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey.
The creature smiled.
Five mouths. One expression.
And then he raised his six arms to the red moon. His heads tilted back. His voice became a chant, deep and resonant, shaking the ground beneath Veda's feet.
"Ohhhh, almighty God. The Father of all creatures. The One who watches over everything. Heavenly Lord."
The Asura's eyes turned white. Empty. Soulless.
"Your slave bows down to you."
He opened his mouths wide. The sound that came out was not a voice. It was a prayer. A scream. A declaration of ownership.
"All creatures are the Heavenly Lord's slaves. All creatures are the Heavenly Lord's dirt. All creatures' lives belong to the Heavenly Lord. AND ALL MUST GIVE THEIR LIFE TO THE HEAVENLY LORD. THE ALMIGHTY."
He closed his palms together like a man praying. Like a man begging.
"No death. No life. ONLY HEAVEN IS ALIVE."
He spread his six arms wide. The red moon behind him seemed to pulse. The black smoke around him swirled faster.
"ONLY... HEAVENLY LORD IS ALMIGHTY."
He screamed.
And then he attacked.
His arms swung in every direction. Buildings exploded. The ground shattered. Cars flew through the air like leaves. People inside the buildings. People who had hidden behind metal shutters. People who had prayed for rescue.
Veda saw them. Saw the bodies thrown from windows. Saw the blood spray across the walls. Saw the shadows disappear under falling rubble.
He moved.
His body was broken. His arm hung at a wrong angle. His lungs burned with every breath. But he moved.
He jumped toward his house.
An arm came down. Veda blocked. The impact sent him flying. He crashed through two buildings. Concrete and steel tore at his skin. He hit the ground, rolled, came up bleeding.
He jumped again.
Another arm. He dodged this time. Barely. The wind from the swing cut his cheek.
He reached the house. The metal shutters were still intact. His parents were inside. Alive. For now.
The Asura's fist came down.
Veda caught it.
His arms screamed. His legs buckled. The ground beneath him cracked and sank. He held the fist above his head, his teeth clenched, his eyes glowing, blood pouring from his mouth.
"Not... my... house..."
The Asura laughed. Swung another arm. Veda could not dodge. The punch caught him square in the chest. He flew backward, hit a wall, collapsed.
He tried to stand. Could not.
The Asura grabbed his leg. Lifted him. Slammed him into the ground.
Veda screamed.
The Asura punched. Once. Twice. Four times. Six arms, each punch faster than the last. A machine of destruction. The ground cracked open. The area shook. Buildings collapsed in the distance.
Veda's body bounced with each impact. Blood sprayed from his mouth. His ribs cracked. His vision blurred.
The Asura stopped.
Veda lay in a crater. His arm was broken. His leg was broken. Blood covered his face. He could not see out of his left eye.
The Asura laughed. Five heads tilting back. Five mouths open wide.
"I crushed you like an ant, human."
Veda's lips moved. The sound that came out was weak. Broken. But the words were clear.
"Stop laughing... you ugly stuck shit."
The Asura's laughter stopped.
The fifty eyes narrowed. The giant eye pulsed.
"What did you say?"
Veda smiled. Blood filled his mouth. He spat it out.
"Did that hurt your feelings, you overgrown lizard?"
The Asura roared. His arms came down again. Again. Again. Each punch drove Veda deeper into the earth. The crater grew. The ground shook. The red moon watched.
When the Asura stopped, Veda was still alive.
Barely.
His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes were half closed. But he was alive.
The Asura stared at him. Something shifted in those empty white eyes. Respect. Confusion. Hunger.
He raised his arms. Dark energy gathered around his hands. Vines shot from the ground. Thick. Black. Covered in thorns. They wrapped around Veda's body. His arms. His legs. His throat. They lifted him from the crater and held him in the air, spread eagle, helpless.
The Asura turned.
Looked at the house.
The small building with the metal shutters. The house where Veda's mother and father waited. The house Veda had been protecting.
The Asura smiled.
That demonic smile. The smile of something that had found exactly where to hurt.
Veda's eyes opened wide.
"If you touch that house," he said, his voice raw, cracking, "I will fucking kill you."
The Asura tilted his head. Mocking.
"You will kill me? Look at yourself, little ant. You cannot even move."
"TRY ME."
Veda screamed. He pulled against the vines. The thorns cut into his skin. Blood ran down his arms, his legs, his chest. The vines did not break.
The Asura jumped.
His massive body rose into the red air. The moon framed him like a halo of blood. He came down.
On the house.
The building exploded. Metal shutters tore apart. Walls crumbled. The roof collapsed inward. Dust and debris flew in every direction.
Inside, Veda saw them.
His father. His mother.
His father had thrown up a barrier. Some kind of energy shield. It flickered around them, weak, desperate. His mother clung to his father's arm. Her face was white with terror. His father's face was hard with determination.
The Asura reached through the rubble. His massive hand closed around them. Both of them. In one fist.
He lifted them into the air. Held them in front of Veda.
"AHHHHH! FOUND YOU!"
Veda's world stopped.
His mother was crying. His father was shouting something Veda could not hear. They were so small in that giant hand. So fragile. So breakable.
The Asura laughed.
"Look, little ant. Your family. So small. So tasty."
Veda pulled against the vines. Harder. The thorns ripped through his skin. He did not feel them. He did not feel anything except the fire in his chest.
"LET THEM GO!"
"Or what? You will kill me?" The Asura squeezed. His father's barrier flickered. Cracked. "You cannot even save yourself."
Veda screamed.
Not a battle cry. Not a roar of anger.
A scream of helplessness. A scream of a man watching the world burn again. The same scream he had screamed when Gita died. The same scream he had screamed when his mother's hand went cold. The same scream he had screamed on the rooftop in South Delhi.
His eyes glowed brighter. Blood poured from his nose. From his mouth. From his ears.
The vines trembled.
The Asura's smile faded.
"What..."
Veda's body began to glow. White light leaked from every wound. Every cut. Every crack in his bones.
"I said..."
The vines snapped.
One by one. The thorns broke. The black ropes fell away. Veda dropped to the ground. Landed on his feet. Stumbled. Caught himself.
He looked up.
His eyes were not human anymore.
They were white. Pure white. Burning like stars.
"LET MY FAMILY GO."
The Asura took a step back.
For the first time, the giant felt something it had never felt before.
Fear.