Falling.
Aarav didn't know how long it lasted—seconds, minutes, eternity.
The golden-masked god's command had shattered the temple, and now he was tumbling through nothingness. No light, no sound, just an abyss that stretched beyond comprehension.
Then, he stopped.
Not by landing—he simply… ceased to fall.
His feet found something solid, yet it wasn't earth, stone, or anything recognizable. It was just—there.
A void that supported him.
Aarav exhaled, trying to steady himself. His mind screamed for answers. Where was he? What had they done to him?
Then, a voice.
"You stand at the Threshold."
Aarav turned sharply.
A figure stood before him, veiled in shifting shadows, neither man nor woman, neither old nor young. Its form constantly shifted, as if it had never decided what it wanted to be.
"Who the hell are you?" Aarav demanded.
The figure tilted its head. "Irrelevant. You are the one on trial."
Trial? Aarav's eyes narrowed. "By who?"
"By existence itself."
Aarav's fists clenched. "I didn't agree to any of this."
The shadow-being's presence didn't waver. "You did, the moment you defied a god."
Aarav's breath hitched. The fight. The chains. The moment his Law of Defiance had shattered them.
This was punishment.
No—this was judgment.
"So what, you're here to kill me?"
The entity didn't move.
"Death would be mercy. Your test is far worse."
Aarav's muscles tensed. He was done with gods, with higher powers playing their games.
If they wanted him to bow, they'd have to break him.
And Aarav Sen didn't break.
"Bring it on."
The shadow-being's form flickered. "Very well."
The void trembled.
And suddenly—
The world around Aarav came alive.
The void around Aarav rippled—not like water, but like reality itself was unraveling.
Then, it split apart.
Aarav staggered back as the nothingness around him transformed into a battlefield.
Corpses.
Piles of them. Twisted bodies, shattered weapons, rivers of blood soaking the ground. The air was thick with the stench of iron and death.
Aarav's pulse thundered. This… this wasn't just any battlefield.
It was familiar.
His eyes widened as recognition struck like a hammer.
This was Mumbai.
Or at least—it had been. The city lay in ruins, towers reduced to rubble, streets cracked open like festering wounds. And in the middle of it all—
Aarav saw himself.
His own body stood at the heart of the devastation. Blood-drenched, eyes hollow, expression blank. But it wasn't him.
Not really.
Because this version of him stood atop a mountain of corpses.
His hands were soaked in blood.
Aarav's stomach twisted. No.
What the hell was this?!
A voice whispered behind him. "The trial has begun."
Aarav spun, fists clenched—but the shadow-being was gone.
Instead, his other self turned toward him.
Their eyes met.
And the other Aarav smirked.
---
"You finally made it." The bloodstained version of Aarav stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. His voice was lazy, almost mocking. "Took you long enough."
Aarav stepped forward. "What the hell is this? Some illusion?"
The other Aarav grinned. "An illusion? No. This is just… an inevitability."
Aarav's teeth clenched. "You're not me."
The other Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Aren't I?"
The ground beneath them shuddered.
The corpses twitched.
And then—they started moving.
Aarav's heart pounded as the dead rose to their feet. Twisted, mangled bodies, their eyes empty, their mouths moving in silent agony. Some were missing limbs. Others were burnt beyond recognition.
And yet—they all turned toward him.
The other Aarav exhaled dramatically. "You see, this is your future."
Aarav's fists clenched. "Bullshit."
The other Aarav chuckled. "Is it? Then why do they all know your name?"
The corpses spoke in unison.
"AARAV SEN."
"AARAV SEN."
"AARAV SEN."
The sound was like thunder. The weight of their voices nearly drove Aarav to his knees.
Then, one of them lunged.
Aarav barely dodged as a twisted corpse, its face half-missing, its body broken, swung at him with inhuman speed.
Another attacked. Then another.
Aarav reacted on instinct—ducking, weaving, striking.
His fist obliterated the first corpse's skull. Another kick sent another one flying into the ruins.
But they kept coming.
The battlefield was endless.
And the other Aarav?
He just stood there, laughing.
"You can't fight fate, idiot." His grin widened. "You ARE this monster. You just haven't realized it yet."
Aarav wiped blood from his lip. "I am NOT you."
His other self's expression turned deadly serious.
"Then prove it."
The world erupted into chaos.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Aarav dodged a swipe from a corpse whose arms ended in jagged bone. Another came at him, its ribs splitting open like a bear trap. He twisted out of the way, but before he could counter—
More.
Too many.
He smashed through a group of them, his fists breaking bodies apart, but no matter how many he cut down, they kept coming.
The other Aarav stood atop the pile of corpses, watching. His golden eyes burned like fire, and his smirk remained infuriatingly intact.
"You're wasting time."
Aarav gritted his teeth, launching himself toward the fake. His fists blazed with power as he prepared to drive them through the bastard's skull—
But the moment his attack landed—nothing.
The other Aarav vanished.
Aarav's fist slammed into thin air.
A whisper brushed against his ear.
"Too slow."
Pain erupted in his ribs. Aarav was sent flying, crashing through the ruins of a building. He barely had time to recover before the corpses swarmed him again.
A blade-tipped hand sliced his shoulder open. Another corpse clamped its teeth onto his leg.
Aarav roared, ripping the creature apart. Blood poured down his body, but he forced himself to stand.
The other Aarav reappeared, grinning.
"You don't get it yet, do you?"
Aarav spat blood. "Screw you."
The fake clicked his tongue. "You're fighting the wrong battle, idiot. These corpses?" He gestured at the endless horde. "You can kill them a thousand times. It won't matter."
Aarav narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
The other Aarav's grin turned cruel.
"Because they're already dead. And you killed them."
Aarav's body froze.
The battlefield shifted.
And then—he saw it.
---
The corpses around him weren't just random bodies.
They were people he recognized.
He saw the old shopkeeper who gave him free sweets as a kid. The bus driver who used to scold him for hanging off the rails. His old schoolteacher. A street fighter he had brawled with years ago.
And then—he saw his mother.
She stood among the dead, her sari torn, blood dripping from a wound in her chest.
And she looked right at him.
"Why, Aarav?" Her voice was soft. "Why did you do this?"
Aarav's breath hitched. "No. This isn't real."
But the bodies kept speaking.
"You did this."
"You did this."
"YOU DID THIS."
Aarav staggered back. No. No. NO.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
The other Aarav stood before him, eyes glowing.
"Tell me, Aarav…" His voice was almost gentle. "How do you think this ends?"
The corpses charged.
And this time—Aarav couldn't move.
Aarav couldn't move.
His body was paralyzed, trapped in the weight of their gazes. His breath came in ragged gasps.
The dead charged at him. Their voices were screaming.
"Murderer!"
"You killed us!"
"You have no right to live!"
His mother's voice was the loudest of all.
Aarav squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his fists. It's not real.
He tried to breathe, to focus—but the doubt had already poisoned him.
A skeletal hand clawed his throat. Another corpse sank its teeth into his side.
Pain erupted through his body, but his mind—his mind was the real battlefield.
Because deep down, a part of him believed it.
A part of him believed he deserved this.
That's when the voice spoke.
"Are you finally listening?"
It wasn't the other Aarav.
This voice came from somewhere deeper.
Aarav gasped, his body burning. The world around him warped, and suddenly—
He was back in the black void.
The battlefield, the corpses, the screams—gone.
Only darkness. And the golden eyes staring at him.
The other Aarav stood before him.
But now, there was no grin. No mockery.
Only cold, merciless truth.
"You're weak because you still hesitate."
Aarav glared at him, fury clashing with confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The other Aarav took a step forward, his presence suffocating.
"You have power." His voice was steel. "More than most. But power means nothing if your mind is broken."
Aarav gritted his teeth. "I—"
The other Aarav snarled.
"You think you're strong? Then tell me—how many people will die because you refuse to accept what you are?"
Aarav froze.
The other Aarav's eyes bored into him.
"You hesitate. You doubt. You still believe in mercy."
He leaned in.
"Mercy is weakness."
Aarav's fists clenched. "No."
The other Aarav's voice turned venomous.
"Then why do the people you love keep dying?"
Aarav's body tensed. The memories rushed in.
His father. His sister. The street fights. The blood. The helplessness.
He had tried to be strong. He had tried to protect.
And he had failed.
Every. Single. Time.
"Shut up," Aarav hissed.
The other Aarav's golden eyes blazed.
"You know I'm right."
"SHUT UP!"
Aarav lunged. His fist drove forward—
—And sank into his own chest.
Aarav gasped. His body convulsed as fire ignited in his veins.
And in that moment—
He understood.
This was never about fighting the corpses. It wasn't about the voices.
This was about himself.
Aarav's eyes snapped open.
He was back in the battlefield.
The corpses were still there—but now he saw them for what they were.
Nothing but shadows.
Nothing but lies.
His mother's broken face. His past failures. The weight of guilt.
He let it go.
And the corpses vanished.
The other Aarav stood before him, watching.
A slow smirk curled on his lips.
"About time."
The golden light in his eyes flared—
And Aarav felt something unlock deep within him.
A power beyond limits.
A power that had been waiting for him to accept it.
---