The Call Beyond the Gate
The training ground was silent.
Only Garud's steady breathing could be heard.
The weight of the Muladhara still lingered in his body—not as pressure, but as presence. He felt rooted, firm, unshaken.
Drona Acharya stood a short distance away, eyes closed.
He was not looking at Garud.
He was listening.
To the world.
A Disturbance
Suddenly, Drona's brows tightened.
The air shifted.
A faint ripple passed through the gate-world, as if something far away had screamed and the echo had finally arrived.
Drona opened his eyes.
"Enough for now," he said calmly.
Garud looked up, surprised.
"Acharya?"
"I can continue. I feel stable. I'm ready."
Drona shook his head slowly.
"Power grows best when it is not forced," he replied.
"There is no rush."
Garud stood, confused.
"But you said the next chakra—"
Drona raised his hand, stopping him.
The Sense of Danger
Drona turned his gaze toward the empty horizon of the gate.
Though nothing could be seen—
Something could be felt.
"Your roots are strong now," Drona said.
"Strong enough to hear what the world is whispering."
Garud's chest tightened.
A strange unease rose within him.
An image flashed in his mind—
His village.
The fields.
The neem tree.
Karan.
Garud's fists clenched.
"My village…" he whispered.
"Something is wrong."
Drona nodded.
"I sensed it moments ago," he said.
"A disturbance near your origin point."
He turned to face Garud fully.
"Garud, your training can wait."
"Lives cannot."
The Choice
Garud lowered his head.
"Acharya," he said firmly,
"Send me back."
Drona studied him for a long moment.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Only resolve.
A faint smile appeared on the old master's face.
"Good," Drona said.
"A protector who ignores his home is unworthy of divine power."
He raised his staff and struck the ground once.
Gate Release
The world trembled.
Golden symbols formed beneath Garud's feet.
The system reacted instantly.
[Gate Synchronization Detected]
[Returning to Origin World…]
Garud felt his body lighten.
Before the light swallowed him, Drona's voice reached his ears.
"Remember this, Garud,"
"Training sharpens the blade—"
"But purpose decides where it strikes."
Transition
The gate collapsed behind him.
Darkness rushed in.
Then—
Wind.
Dust.
Heat.
Garud opened his eyes.
Return
He was back.
Near the outskirts of his village.
The air smelled wrong.
Burnt soil.
Fear.
Blood.
From a distance—
He heard screams.
Garud's eyes hardened.
The earth beneath his feet cracked as he took a step forward.
"I'm home," he said quietly.
And this time—
He was not the same boy who had left.