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The jungle, once thunderous with the roars of war and clashing powers, had fallen into a deep and solemn silence.
Broken trees stood like weary warriors, their limbs scorched and bowed. The ground bore scars—gashes in the earth where divine energy had ripped through darkness. Ash drifted lazily through the air like remnants of forgotten prayers, and the burnt stench of malevolence still lingered faintly.
Shivansh sat quietly upon a fractured stone slab near the ruined temple steps. His breath was slow and deliberate, his body marked by bruises, cuts, and dried blood. But it wasn't just his body that was weary—the true weight lay in his eyes. A silent exhaustion, not of muscle, but of soul.
Beside him hovered the divine chakra, still circling loyally yet dimmed, its radiant power muted after its devastating release in the battle. Shivansh stared at it, as if lost in a memory that wasn't his alone.
A few paces away, Lucky leaned against the blackened trunk of a half-burnt tree, one hand pressed against his ribs as he winced with every breath. The divine blade—the Flame of Lakshman—rested sheathed beside him, its edge humming faintly like a heartbeat. Despite his battered frame, there was a strange glimmer in his eyes—part fatigue, part pride.
They had won. For now.
Yogi sat cross-legged near them, his gaze turned skyward. The orange hues of dusk bled across the sky, bathing the battlefield in warm gold and crimson, as if the very heavens were honoring the end of a chapter.
But Yogi's expression was unreadable—still and contemplative. Something weighed on his thoughts.
He rose slowly, each step deliberate, and approached the two boys.
Shivansh looked up, divine aura faint but steady, his shoulders squaring as Yogi drew near. Lucky tilted his head, curious but silent.
Yogi exhaled, a slow, grounding breath.
"I can't say with certainty whether this is the end… or just the beginning," he said calmly, his voice laced with wisdom and weariness. "But for now, we've been given time—time to think, to understand."
Shivansh gave a small nod, the pain in his jaw making it stiff. Lucky wiped a streak of dried blood from his cheek, attempting a smile, though his body protested.
"We should return home," Yogi continued, his tone gentle but firm. "Some rest… some reflection. You're no longer just boys. You now carry the weight of a legacy—burdened by history, entrusted with responsibility."
He turned his gaze directly to Shivansh.
"Your powers have grown. But with great strength comes greater restraint. Every step you take, every choice you make… must now be measured. Before using any weapon, divine or not—think."
Shivansh lowered his head slightly, voice quiet. "I know. I'm not who I was before. But I won't stray from the path."
Yogi gave a small nod of approval. "Good. Always remember— a true warrior never seeks battle. But he is always ready when it comes."
The words hung in the still air like an ancient verse, timeless and sacred.
Shivansh held his gaze. "That… that's stayed with me. Maybe all of this happened for a reason."
Lucky chuckled, despite the pain flaring in his ribs. "Getting all philosophical now, are we? Does every post-battle moment turn people into poets?"
Yogi's lips curled into a soft smile. The golden edges of his robe shimmered faintly with divine light. "Sometimes… silence births the deepest thoughts."
He stepped back, lifting a hand toward the open space behind him. With a soft chant, golden runes sparked in the air and swirled into a shimmering portal. Beyond its radiant veil lay a world separate from theirs—distant yet forever bound.
"I'm returning," Yogi said. "But when the time comes—you'll find me."
Shivansh stood, ignoring the soreness in his legs. He bowed slightly, fists clenched with gratitude. "Thank you… for everything."
Lucky raised his hand, managing half a grin. "Next time you come, bring some snacks. Your training sessions are energy vampires."
Yogi let out a rare laugh. "I have faith in both of you. But remember—this was only the beginning."
With that, he turned and stepped through the portal. Light flared around him once, then folded inward with a sigh, disappearing into the twilight.
Silence returned. But this time, it wasn't heavy.
It was peaceful.
Shivansh exhaled, a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His body hurt in places he didn't know could ache, but in that moment, he felt a strange lightness.
Lucky limped toward him, nudging him playfully with a bruised shoulder. "So… what now? Should we head home?"
Shivansh gave him a deadpan look. "No, let's just build a resort here in the middle of the jungle."
Lucky snorted. "Wow. Look at you, cracking jokes now."
"You taught me how to chill after a battle," Shivansh replied, smirking.
They shared a soft laugh. It felt natural. Real. As if they'd reclaimed something more than just victory—perhaps even a piece of themselves.
As they began walking the shattered jungle trail, Shivansh asked, "When you picked up the sword… what did you feel?"
Lucky's expression turned serious. "It was like… something ancient awakened inside me. As if a forgotten soul stepped into my bones. Every move felt instinctive. Memories that weren't mine—Lakshman's fury, his devotion to protect… they all came alive in me."
Shivansh nodded slowly. "Same. When I held the chakra… everything changed. I saw time, kingdoms, destinies. I wasn't just a warrior—I felt like a guardian of time itself."
Lucky groaned. "Ugh, there you go again—philosophical mode, on. Can we save the divine epiphanies for after dinner? My mom's gonna think I got married in the jungle."
Shivansh burst into laughter, this time genuine, unguarded.
"And what if we did marry a jungle villain?" he teased.
Lucky feigned shock. "I thought you were just a divine warrior. Now you're adding plot twists to the story?"
"Plot twist," Shivansh said with a wink.
Their laughter echoed softly through the jungle as the trees thickened around them, no longer oppressive or threatening. The forest, though scarred, had found serenity once more.
Eventually, they reached the clearing—the same place where their journey had begun.
Shivansh paused, looking back toward the temple ruins, the battlefield, and the path of awakening that had changed them forever.
Lucky clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey… you alright?"
Shivansh looked forward.
"Not me… us. We're alright."
And together, they stepped out of the jungle—not just as survivors, but as brothers-in-arms, guardians of a future still unwritten.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the world beyond waited—ready to begin again.