Kanchipuram. Present? Past? Future?
The road to Kanchipuram wasn't made of stone or sand—it was carved from forgotten timelines.
Aarav and Nyra walked across a shifting path of memories, where every step echoed with things that never happened but should have. Dead kings whispered through the dust. War drums beat from cities that never existed.
> "We're close," Nyra said, tightening the wrap over her golden eyes. "But it's not the Kanchipuram you know. That city's gone. This one was left behind… by the gods."
They arrived at dawn—or what passed for it in a sky cracked by centuries. The gates loomed high: silver pillars inscribed with Brahmi script, glowing faintly with a light that no longer belonged in the world.
Aarav felt the Wheel inside his hand vibrate. It was scared.
---
The Sleeping Citadel
Kanchipuram was silent.
Not abandoned—but waiting.
The streets were lined with statues of celestial beings—Devas, Asuras, Yakshas—all frozen mid-motion, eyes hollow, mouths agape. Some looked like they were running. Others were reaching toward the sky.
Nyra touched one. "These aren't statues."
> They were people once.
Aarav stepped forward and whispered, "What happened here?"
Nyra looked up at the massive temple in the center of the city—the Ekambareswarar Temple, but twisted, melted, reformed into something not entirely human-made.
> "This was where the fourth Regalia was sealed. To protect the gods. And to protect us… from them."
---
The Regalia's Tomb
Inside the temple, the air grew colder. Not the cold of ice—but the cold of nothingness. A void that hated time and life alike.
At the center of the sanctum lay a pedestal carved from obsidian. Resting atop it was a shard, hovering an inch above its base, pulsing with a sickly white glow. It didn't shine—it devoured light.
> The Shard of Soul.
Aarav stepped forward. The Wheel in his hand began spinning uncontrollably. Blood poured from his nose. His knees buckled.
> "Don't touch it!" Nyra screamed.
But he already had.
The moment his fingers grazed the shard, the temple shuddered.
---
The God Who Never Slept
The stone beneath them cracked.
The statues outside wept dust.
And then… it spoke.
A voice that didn't echo, didn't whisper, didn't roar.
It simply existed in every cell of their being.
> "WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLEEP?"
The walls peeled back, revealing an infinite chamber of spiraling time and broken reality. From it emerged a being of lightless form, wrapped in saffron and shadow.
He had no face—only a golden halo of shifting masks.
Nyra gasped. "No… not him…"
> "The Sleeping One… the Watcher of the Unborn."
This wasn't a god from the scriptures.
It was older.
A Forgotten Creator.
---
A Trial of Soul
The god stared at Aarav.
> "You wield the Cycle. You bear the Wheel. You seek to undo the Ending."
> "Then prove you are not the fool who caused it."
Without warning, Aarav was ripped from his body and thrown into a soul mirror—a realm where time didn't matter, and identity was shredded.
He saw:
Himself, failing to save Diya.
Himself, choosing power over mercy.
Himself, killing Ashvra in cold blood.
Himself, becoming Ashvra.
The god's voice spoke:
> "You are every version of you. Every choice, every failure. Can you live with that?"
Aarav screamed. "I don't care what I become… as long as I bring her back!"
Silence.
Then—
> "Accepted."
---
The Regalia Awakens
Aarav collapsed onto the stone floor, gasping. The Shard of Soul had fused with the Wheel, completing the fourth arc.
Suddenly, the Wheel stopped spinning.
A new symbol appeared: a glowing spiral of infinity wrapped in flame.
Nyra helped him up, shaking. "You survived the Trial… no one ever has."
The god's form receded. "One Regalia remains," it said. "But be warned. The fifth… was never meant to be found."
Aarav nodded. "Then that's the one I need."
As they stepped outside, Kanchipuram—once frozen—breathed again.
The city was awakening.
And far away, in the Dominion, Ashvra felt it.
> "The final key is in motion," he muttered. "And with it… the end of us all."
---
⚡ To be continued…