Dharma closes his eyes, the wind whipping through his uniform. The narrator's voice returns,
Narrator:
"He knew it from the start. The only way to save a broken world was to tear it apart."
The camera pans out, showing Dharma standing alone on the rooftop, the city's destruction reflected in his steely gaze. Above him, the storm clouds gather, heralding the beginning of the Parallel Split.
Dharma Pratap – Codename: Maheshwara
The screen opens with the rooftop of the ISS headquarters, bathed in the flickering glow of fires raging across the city below. Dharma Pratap stands motionless at the edge, his silhouette stark against the chaos. The camera pans as the sound of rotor blades fills the air, drawing closer.
Suddenly, a burning helicopter streaks into view, its blades failing. The side door slides open, and Vikram Saha, a hulking figure with a rugged face with a menacing beard with white streaks and a military vest, leaps out mid-air. He lands with a thud, rolling to absorb the impact, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. He rises to his full height, a rifle in his hands, a crooked grin on his face. His name flashes on the screen:
Vikram Saha – Codename: Agni
Vikram (grinning):
"If you've paged us, Dharma, it means the world's about to break apart... or burn."
As Vikram approaches, a swirling black portal opens a few meters away. From its shadowy depths steps Rowan Blackwood, his sharp features framed by the collar of a black trench coat. His eyes are cold and calculating, his every movement precise. His name flashes on the screen:
Rowan Blackwood – Codename: Shadow
Rowan (calmly):
"You always had a flair for the dramatic, Dharma. A burning world, a rooftop rendezvous... It's time, isn't it?"
From the staircase behind Dharma emerges Suzuki Shinzo, his haori coat fluttering in the wind, the gleaming sheath of his katana at his side. His expression is calm but carries a hint of mischief, his smile sharp as a blade. His name flashes on the screen:
Suzuki Shinzo – Codename: Silent Oni
Suzuki (smirking):
"Only a fool would call us all together. Or a man ready to end the world. Which are you, Dharma?"
Dharma turns slowly, facing the three men who have been by his side through countless battles. His gaze is steady, his voice calm but laden with gravity.
Dharma:
"If I've called you here, it's because the time has come. The split—the only solution to end this war—is ready."
Rowan (crossing his arms):
"So it's true. The Parallel Split. Two realities—one for Ascendants, one for Normies. Sounds like something straight out of a god's playbook."
Vikram (chuckling):
"Or a madman's. You've always been both, Dharma. But let's get to the point—if this is happening, what do you need from us?"
Suzuki (with a sly grin):
"He wouldn't call us unless he needed more than brute strength. Right, Dharma?"
Dharma (nodding):
"The split isn't something I can accomplish alone. The Sword of Creation holds the power to divide realities, but I have my limits. I'll need your abilities to stabilize the process and ensure both worlds remain intact. Otherwise..."
Rowan (finishing the sentence):
"Otherwise, we're looking at mutual destruction. Two realities collapsing into one chaotic mess. It's a dangerous plan, Dharma. You'd better have more than hope backing it."
Dharma:
"I don't expect hope to carry this. Only strength, precision... and trust."
As Dharma turns away, the scene shifts to a hidden chamber—dark, underground, lit by a single flickering bulb. Vikram, Rowan, and Suzuki gather, their faces hard, the air thick with unspoken intent.
Rowan (coldly):
"He's a dead man with this split. The Federation's waited for ISS to crack—now we take the worlds he's breaking. I don't dirty my hands; I just claim the spoils."
Suzuki (quiet, measured):
"When he falls, the board's ours. The sword, the realities—I'll carve them clean and silent. Japanese Sentinels don't waste moves; neither will I."
Vikram (grinning, savage):
"Always the loyal hound—'til now. ISS was his game, but war's mine. He shatters it? I'll rule the pieces. Revolution's my play."
Rowan (sharp, low):
"Careful steps, though. He catches wind, that blade's on us. I've seen him shred armies—EFS included. We wait 'til he's gone."
Their eyes lock, a silent pact sealed. The camera fades back to the rooftop, the trio behind Dharma, faces unreadable.
Back on the rooftop, Dharma holds the pager in his hand. The device hums softly as the camera pans to the three men standing behind him, their expressions unreadable.
Dharma (quietly, to himself):
"This is the only way."
The narrator's voice returns,
Narrator(heavy):
"While Dharma sought to save the world, those closest to him plotted its control. The balance of peace rested not in the sword, but in the hearts of those who wielded it. And even gods could not predict the storm to come."