Dharma: "To those who desecrate this land... your reckoning has come."
With a powerful swing, he sends a lightning bolt crashing into a squad of Pakistani soldiers. The ice beneath them shatters as they are engulfed in the explosion, their cries lost in the avalanche.
A lone Pakistani Ascendant survives, his body wreathed in flames. He charges at Dharma, shouting:
Pakistani Captain: "You'll pay for that, Indian dog!"
Dharma sidesteps the attack effortlessly, his sword crackling with energy as he slashes downward. The flames extinguish, and the captain collapses in defeat.
As Dharma pushes forward, he finds himself face-to-face with an entire battalion of Chinese Sentinels. Their captain, Lin Wei, steps forward. A towering figure with an air of calm dominance, Lin Wei carries a glaive infused with golden energy. His voice is cold but commanding.
Lin Wei: " Dharma Pratap. The Maheshwara of ISS himself. I've been waiting for this moment."
Dharma: [smirking] "I'd say the feeling is mutual, but I don't waste time on traitors to peace."
Lin Wei's battalion spreads out, surrounding Dharma. Earth erupts as one Ascendant manipulates the glacier to trap Dharma's feet. Another sends a barrage of ice shards hurtling toward him.
With a growl, Dharma shatters the ice beneath him, his lightning-infused sword striking in a wide arc. The shards melt before they reach him. He spins, summoning another bolt of lightning that arcs through three soldiers, dropping them instantly.
Dharma: "Is this the best the CSS can do? I expected more."
Lin Wei steps forward, spinning his glaive with precision. The ground beneath Dharma cracks as Lin Wei strikes with a surge of golden energy. Dharma deflects the blow, but the impact sends him sliding backwards. Snow swirls around them as the storm intensifies.
Lin Wei: "You're strong, Pratap. But strength alone won't save you."
Dharma: [gritting his teeth] "I don't have time to die today!"
The two clash, their weapons sparking with elemental energy. Dharma's sword channels bolts of lightning with each strike, while Lin Wei's glaive emits waves of golden energy that crackle and pulse. The ice beneath their feet shatters, creating a treacherous arena of jagged edges and deep chasms.
The battle is brutal. Dharma moves with precision, each strike of his sword a calculated blend of power and speed. Lin Wei counters with flawless technique, his glaive spinning like a deadly wheel. The clash of their weapons sends shockwaves across the battlefield, knocking nearby soldiers off their feet.
After a particularly fierce exchange, Lin Wei manages to land a devastating blow. His glaive strikes Dharma's sword with incredible force, shattering the blade into pieces. Dharma stumbles back, disarmed and bleeding from a gash on his shoulder.
Lin Wei seizes the moment, slamming the back of his glaive into Dharma's chest. The Chief stumbles backwards, teetering on the edge of a gorge. He looks up, his breath visible in the icy air, and meets Lin Wei's gaze.
Lin Wei: [smirking] "It's over, Pratap. Rest easy knowing you fought well."
Before Dharma can respond, the ground beneath him gives way. He falls into the gorge, disappearing into the swirling fog below.
The camera lingers on Lin Wei as he stands at the edge of the gorge, his glaive resting on his shoulder. The storm begins to subside, leaving the battlefield eerily quiet. The narrator's voice returns,
"And so, the Maheshwara fell. But in this cosmic drama, every fall is but the prelude to a greater rise. For even in the depths of despair, destiny weaves its threads anew."
The scene opens with the deafening sound of ice cracking and wind howling through the frozen gorge. Dharma Pratap's body plunges into the abyss, his uniform tattered, blood trailing behind him like a ribbon in the cold air. As he falls, his voice, strained and defiant, echoes in his mind:
Dharma (internal monologue): "Not today... not like this. I have my motherland to protect. My sentinels. My men. My family."
His words fade as his body crashes against jagged rocks, his spine snapping with a sickening crunch. The camera lingers on him lying at the gorges' bottom, snow and ice beginning to settle around his lifeless form. Dharma's hand, trembling, tries to reach upward toward the light streaming in from above.
Dharma (barely audible): "Only... if I had another... chance..."
His arm falls limp, his hand resting on the icy rock. The narrator's voice returns, a mixture of calm and intrigue,
Narrator: "But fate had other plans for him."
The camera zooms in as Dharma's lifeless fingers touch something hidden beneath the snow—a hilt wrapped in black and white fabric. The moment his hand makes contact, the faint glow of the sword intensifies. The ice falls of the sword, and a pulse of energy ripples outward.
The camera shifts to the Primordial Plane. Rudra sits on his grand throne of gold and black, his eyes closed in meditation, a faint smile of satisfaction on his face. Suddenly, his eyes snap open, blazing with fiery intensity. He leans forward, his voice laced with disbelief and excitement.
Rudra: "Impossible... another wielder? At this time?"
He raises his hand, summoning the Orb of the Universe. The orb swirls with images of galaxies and stars, zooming in rapidly on Earth and then the gorge where Dharma lies. Rudra narrows his eyes, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
Rudra: "What is this strange power I sense? Who has awakened?"
Back in the gorge, the storm clouds above twist and churn violently. A blinding bolt of golden lightning descends from the heavens, striking Dharma's motionless body.
The force of the impact sends a shockwave through the glacier, shaking the very foundations of the battlefield. The Chinese captain, Lin Wei, turns sharply, his golden glaive at the ready.
Lin Wei (in Chinese): "What sorcery is this?!"
The camera shows Lin Wei squinting through the blinding light. A silhouette begins to form—Dharma Pratap, now standing tall, illuminated by the golden aura of the bolt. His tattered uniform clings to his body, but his wounds are gone, and his form more powerful than ever. He grips the Sword of Creation, its aqua-blue edge glowing with the power of lightning.
Lin Wei (in Chinese): "You should be dead!"
Dharma steps forward, his boots crunching the snow beneath him. His voice is calm but firm, carrying the weight of his renewed purpose.
Dharma: "I told you. I don't have time for that."
Dharma raises the blade high. The trapped Cosmic Storm within it erupts as a surge of lightning, twisting and crackling through the air. The storm fuses with Dharma's ascendant powers, transforming into a tempest of unimaginable energy. He swings the blade, unleashing a shockwave of lightning that cascades down the glacier.
The shockwave obliterates the advancing Chinese battalion. Entire squads are buried under collapsing ice as the glacier quakes. The sheer force sends Lin Wei stumbling backwards, his expression a mix of fury and disbelief.
Lin Wei (roaring): "Impossible! What are you, Dharma?!"
Dharma's silhouette steps closer, the blade glowing brighter with each step. He takes a traditional quick-draw stance, his body aligned with the sword. His voice, steady and resolute, echoes through the gorge:
Dharma: "Wake up, Tomoe."
[Tomoe is the name of the technique Dharma uses to control his powers]
The blade pulses with immeasurable energy, the Cosmic Storm within it now fully unleashed. Lightning arcs around Dharma, illuminating the battlefield. With a single, precise slash, he sends a colossal bolt of lightning hurtling toward Lin Wei. The golden armour protecting Lin Wei splinters as the bolt cleaves through it, and his head is severed in a spray of blood.
Lin Wei's lifeless body collapses into the snow as Dharma lowers his blade, his aura still crackling with power.
Back in the Primordial Plane, Rudra leaps from his throne, laughing like a man possessed. His voice carries both madness and ecstasy as he watches the events unfold in the Orb of the Universe.
Rudra: "Yes! After aeons and aeons, finally... finally! The true power of the blade is unleashed!"
He points at the orb, his laughter echoing through the plane.
Rudra: "Show me more! Dharma Pratap! Show me what you can do with the powers of gods in your hands!"
The camera shifts back to the gorge, where Dharma stands among the fallen—both his comrades and his foes. His uniform is shredded, exposing his now-transformed body, muscular and glowing faintly with golden veins of energy. He touches his chest, realization dawning on his face.
The screen flashes to a subconscious plane, where Dharma is surrounded by swirling lights and ethereal whispers. A disembodied voice, calm and commanding, speaks to him—it's him.
Rudra (voice): "You are my chosen wielder, Dharma Pratap. The enforcer of my will. Through you, I shall ensure that peace reigns across the universe. You will be my hand, my sword, my fury."
The camera shows the power creeping through Dharma's veins as the memories of the Primordials and the blade's creation flood his mind. He sees flashes of the gods, the wars they waged, the chaos they unleashed, and the knowledge they left behind. His body absorbs the essence of the blade, his ascendant powers amplified beyond mortal comprehension.
Back in the present, Dharma lifts his radio, his voice steady and commanding.
Dharma: "This is Chief Dharma Pratap. Requesting extraction. The battle is over."
He glances at the blade, its glow reflecting in his eyes. His lips curl into a faint smile as he murmurs:
Dharma: "Enforcer of will, huh? Let's see if I'm worthy of that title."
The camera zooms out, showing Dharma standing alone in the gorge, surrounded by devastation. Above, the storm begins to clear, the golden light of the blade shining brighter than the sun.
The narrator's voice returns, calm but charged with anticipation:
Narrator: "And so, a new chapter began. With the blade of gods in his hands, Dharma Pratap would face not only the battles of men but the trials of destiny itself."