Shakuni did not believe in omens.
He believed in control.
Yet control had begun to slip through his fingers—not dramatically, not enough to alert the foolish, but enough that a man who lived by certainty could feel the fracture.
The dice lay on the table before him.
Perfect.
Polished.
Obedient.
And yet—
They felt watched.
Shakuni rolled them again.
They landed wrong.
Not unfavorable.
Wrong.
The system observed from afar.
—
[Threshold Event Approaching]
[Key Node: Dice Hall of Hastinapura]
—
In the council chamber, Vidura stood alone.
The meeting had ended poorly.
Laughter had followed his warnings, dismissals wrapped in polite indifference. Yet what unsettled him was not their mockery—but Bhishma's silence.
Bhishma had listened.
And that changed everything.
"Vidura," Bhishma said quietly as the hall emptied, "you spoke as if certainty has… loosened."
Vidura met the old warrior's gaze.
"It has," he replied. "Because it was never righteous to begin with."
Bhishma exhaled slowly.
"I have served this throne my entire life," he said. "If the story is changing… tell me where I stand."
Vidura's voice softened.
"At the threshold," he said. "Where standing still becomes a choice."
The system registered the exchange.
—
[Witness Alignment Shift Detected]
—
That night, Dhritarashtra summoned Vidura privately.
"You are unsettling my court," the king said, voice edged with unease. "Why?"
Vidura did not bow.
"Because if I do not," he said calmly, "your sons will burn the world."
Silence.
Dhritarashtra's hands trembled.
"You speak treason."
"I speak consequence," Vidura replied.
The system logged the risk.
—
[Karma Debt: Accepted]
[Speaker: Vidura]
—
Far away, Rudra felt it.
Not as pain.
As weight transferred.
The system updated.
—
[Threshold Event Defined]
[Description: Moments where minor intervention causes major divergence]
[User Access: Indirect Only]
—
Rudra smiled faintly.
The story had reached its hinge.
Back in Hastinapura, Shakuni sought answers.
He summoned astrologers.
Interrogated priests.
Consulted forbidden texts.
All failed.
Finally, alone, he whispered—
"Who are you?"
The air did not answer.
But the dice refused to sing.
Bhishma stood at dawn, facing the rising sun, spear resting at his side.
"For the first time," he murmured, "I do not know if my oath leads to dharma."
And in Aryavarta, Rudra stood still.
He would not push.
Not yet.
Because thresholds did not need force.
They needed **witnesses who chose to act**.
-- chapter 25 ended --