Arav’s eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliar sight of a wooden ceiling. His head throbbed faintly, and the soft scent of herbs filled the room. He groaned, shifting slightly on the bed, trying to make sense of where he was.

“Well, look you finally woke up,eh?,” a voice sounded.

Arav turned his head to see a middle-aged man with streaks of silver in his tied-back hair, leaning casually against the doorway. He wore simple robes, but his sharp eyes and calm demeanor exuded confidence.

“Where... where am I?” Arav croaked, his throat dry.

“You’re in my clinic,” the man said, stepping closer. “Name’s Arpit, I am an alchemy master at the realm of Rasa-Vaigyanik, but that’s a mouthful, I’m the local spiritual alchemist around here.”

“Clinic?” Arav’s brow furrowed as he tried to sit up. Pain flared through his body, and he winced. “How did I—”

“You were carried in,” Rasa interrupted, setting a steaming cup of something on the bedside table. “By a very determined young woman, I might add. She practically threw a pouch of coins at me and demanded I patch you up.”

“Kimi,” Arav muttered, piecing the fragments together.

“Yeah, that one. scary one, isn’t she? Told me to make sure you didn’t die. Apparently, you’re good at making people worry.”

Arav let out a dry chuckle, though it hurt to laugh. “Sounds like her.”

“Here, drink this,” Rasa said, shoving the cup toward him. “It’ll help with the pain.”

Arav hesitated for a moment but took the cup. The liquid was bitter, almost unpleasant, but he drank it down without complaint.

“Good. Now let me get to the point,” Rasa continued, crossing his arms. “That girl left something for you.”

Arav’s curiosity piqued as Rasa walked over to a shelf and retrieved a small, ornate vial filled with shimmering golden liquid. He held it up, the light catching on the intricate design.

“This,” Rasa began, “is Surya-Bindu, or Sun’s Drop. It’s a rare elixir, powerful enough to heal you completely and restore your energy. But,” he added with a pointed look, “there’s a catch.”

Arav frowned. “What kind of catch?”

“If your soul isn’t pure—if you’ve got any malice or darkness hidden in there—it’ll burn you from the inside out. Permanently,” Rasa said, his tone serious.

“And Kimi left this... for me?” Arav asked, staring at the vial in disbelief.

“She did,” Rasa confirmed, setting the vial down on the bedside table. “Said you’d need it. I’ll be honest, kid—I don’t see why anyone would go to such lengths for someone who’s as reckless as you seem to be.”

Arav looked away, his jaw tightening. “She didn’t have to.”

“No, she didn’t,” Rasa agreed. “But she did. So now the question is—are you going to take it?”

Arav’s gaze lingered on the vial. The fight with Kimi replayed in his mind—her overwhelming strength, his own desperation, and that fleeting moment where something dark and unfamiliar had stirred within him. Did he deserve this gift? Could he even trust himself with it?

“I don’t have darkness in me,” Arav said firmly, though the memory of that dangerous energy flickered in the back of his mind.

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“Bold claim,” Rasa said with a smirk. “But it’s your choice.”

Arav uncorked the vial and drank it in one swift motion. The liquid was cool at first, but an intense heat soon spread through his body. He gritted his teeth, gripping the bedsheets as the warmth burned through him—not painful, but overwhelming, like fire refining metal.

“Breathe through it,” Rasa instructed, watching him carefully. “Don’t fight it. Let it work.”

Arav closed his eyes and focused, his breaths shallow but steady. Slowly, the heat subsided, leaving him feeling... lighter. Stronger.

Rasa let out a low whistle. “Well, look at that. You’re still in one piece. Guess you’re not as much of a mess as I thought.”

Arav swung his legs over the side of the bed, testing his strength. To his surprise, he felt no pain, no weakness. “It worked.”

“Of course it worked,” Rasa said, rolling his eyes. “But don’t let this make you cocky. Next time, don’t let yourself get beaten to a pulp in the first place.”

Arav gave a faint smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he stood and stretched, Rasa leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “One last thing, kid. That girl—Kimi—she doesn’t strike me as the type to do something like this for just anyone. Maybe think about why she did.”

Arav paused, the weight of Rasa’s words sinking in. He nodded quietly and stepped out of the room, the sunlight hitting his face as he took a deep breath.

The sacred tree stood tall, ancient, and imposing, its roots sprawling across the ground like the veins of the earth itself. The air around it shimmered faintly, as if it recognized the presence of something extraordinary. Standing in the shade of the massive banyan tree was a woman who radiated an otherworldly aura. Her features were ageless—she looked like she was in her mid-thirties, but her eyes told a different story. Within them seemed to swirl the vast expanse of the universe, stars twinkling and galaxies forming and collapsing in an eternal dance.

Beside her sat a magnificent white tiger, its fur glowing faintly in the soft light. Its presence was regal, and the way it held its head high made it seem as though it bore the wisdom of tens of millions of years.

The woman gazed into the distance, her expression contemplative. She finally spoke, her voice soft but resonating with an immense power, as if the very cosmos were listening to her words.

“So this is the boy,” she murmured, her tone laced with curiosity and concern. “The one I felt under this tree days ago. That destructive energy… so raw, so uncontrollable.”

Her gaze became sharper, piercing through the distance as if she could see Arav even now, far away in the capital. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Vishwaroop Kaal…” she whispered, the name carrying a weight that seemed to ripple through the air. The earth beneath her feet trembled ever so slightly, and the leaves of the sacred tree rustled despite the absence of wind. “It has reappeared. Kali yuga truly lives up to its name.”

The tiger beside her let out a low, rumbling growl, its voice clear and resonant. “You seem troubled, Nyima. Isn’t this the sort of chaos you’ve been waiting for?”

The woman, Nyima Lhamo—the first queen of Arunthari—let out a soft laugh, though it carried no mirth. “Chaos? Perhaps. But a being like him… after all this time?” She paused, her fingers lightly brushing against the bark of the sacred tree. “I wonder what will happen now. The balance of this world has always been precarious, but with him in play… the end of Kali yuga has begun.”

The tiger huffed, a puff of warm breath visible in the cool air. “You’re not worried. You’re intrigued. You always were, even when you ruled in the flesh. Now that you’re nothing but a soul, it’s easier for you to play the observer.”

Nyima turned her gaze to the tiger, a faint smile gracing her lips. “Perhaps I am intrigued. Perhaps I want to see how this unfolds. But can you blame me, old friend? Even in my prime, I never encountered such energy—so wild, so destructive, yet with the potential to be something extraordinary.”

The tiger’s ears twitched. “Don’t forget the cost of such power. The boy may not survive himself.”

Nyima’s gaze softened, though the intensity in her eyes remained. “That’s what makes it all the more fascinating. He stands on the edge of destruction and salvation. One misstep, and he could destroy everything—including himself. But if he treads carefully…” She trailed off, her smile deepening. “He could become something this world hasn’t seen in eons.”

The tiger stood, its movements fluid and deliberate, and its divine form seemed to shimmer faintly under the light. “You sound like you’ve already made up your mind about him.”

Nyima chuckled, stepping closer to the tiger. “Perhaps I have. But whether he succeeds or falls… that’s not for me to decide.”

She cast one last look toward the horizon, where she could sense Arav’s presence. Her expression grew solemn, and her voice, though soft, carried a weight that seemed to echo through time itself.

“May the heavens guide you, Arav Srivastava. The end of Kali yuga may be written, but how it unfolds… that’s up to you.”

With that, Nyima and the tiger vanished, their forms dissolving into the air as if they had never been there, leaving the sacred tree to stand as it always had—silent, ancient, and watching.