Chapter 2: The Broken SealWord Count: ~1,050
[Varanasi – 11 Minutes After the First Gate Opened]
Ashura sprinted through the alleys.
He didn't have a plan. He barely had control over his legs, which were moving faster than they logically should. His heart was a thunder drum. Every breath was fire. His glowing arm pulsed in sync with the three crimson pillars now shining across the city skyline.
Three Gates.Not one. Not two.Three d*mn Gates. In India. In one morning.
What kind of karma did I build up in my last life?!
He ducked under a rickety archway, nearly tripping over a toppled fruit cart. A group of onlookers huddled by a tea stall, eyes glued to their phones.
"Another one opened in Kolkata!"
"No no no, there's one near the Delhi Metro station too—look, LIVE footage!"
"What the hell is this? A terrorist attack?!"
They don't see the creatures… yet.
Ashura skidded to a stop at the next corner and leaned against the wall. He glanced down at his palm.
The red glow hadn't faded. Instead, it had spread. His veins were lit like lava lines across his wrist, crawling toward his shoulder now.
Is it spreading? Or evolving?
He'd had this mark his entire life. His mother used to say it was a divine blessing. The neighbors thought it was cursed. Someone once called him the "Doom Child."
He always thought it was just a weird birthmark.
Guess the neighbors won that argument.
Suddenly, something clicked in his head.
No sound. No warning.
Just a pulse—like static behind his eyes.
He turned instinctively to the rooftop above.
And saw her.
A figure in a black cloak stood against the skyline, her silhouette blurred slightly—like reality was trying to erase her and failing miserably. Her face was covered by a cracked white mask, shaped like a half-moon.
She didn't speak.
She didn't move.
She just watched.
Creepy ninja girl? Assassin? Government agent? Spectral stalker?
Ashura blinked—and she was gone.
Cool cool cool... So I'm hallucinating now too. Just fantastic.
He resumed running, making his way toward the second Gate—the one near the old temple district.
It was quieter here. Too quiet.
The birds were gone. No dogs. No sounds of traffic.
And then…
The chanting began.
Low. Repetitive. Like a broken prayer stuck on repeat. It echoed from inside the temple—an abandoned structure nobody had entered in decades.
Ashura crept up the stone steps, swordless now but still glowing. He peeked through the shattered wooden doors.
And saw a nightmare.
Seven figures in crimson robes stood in a circle around the second Gate, which floated above the temple altar like a vertical scar in the air. Unlike the first one, this Gate wasn't dormant.
It was feeding.
Smoke and light poured out of it, siphoning toward the cultists. Their bodies twitched unnaturally. One of them floated three inches off the ground, neck bending backward in an inhuman angle.
In the center of them stood a tall man—shirtless, scarred, with tattoos that looked disturbingly similar to Ashura's glowing markings.
But his weren't glowing.
They were burning.
"They're not just random crazies…"
"They're connected to the Gates."
"They're feeding off it."
The man at the center turned around as if he'd heard the thought.
And locked eyes with Ashura.
His irises were entirely black.
"You're late," the man growled, voice like gravel. "The Seal is broken. The Gatekeeper is awake."
He knows who I am?!
Ashura took a cautious step back.
"Yeah, hi, that's me. The Seal. Apparently. Sorry for crashing your cult meeting. I didn't bring snacks or matching robes."
The man smiled—too wide.
"We've been waiting for you. You're the final lock. And once we kill you—"
The second Gate shrieked.
Like it didn't like that idea.
Wait... it's... protecting me?
Ashura didn't have time to process that because suddenly the cultists began to convulse. One by one, they collapsed—and something crawled out of them.
Twisted shadows. Limbs. Fangs. Creatures made of hate and smoke.
Six monsters. One Gatekeeper.
Ashura's fingers curled into a fist. The red glow surged again—and this time, his entire right arm erupted in energy.
A blade formed again—but now it was longer, jagged, like a broadsword formed from condensed starlight.
"Okay," he muttered. "Let's test round two."
The first beast lunged.
Ashura pivoted, dodging under its jaw and slicing through its torso. Black ichor splattered across the floor. The second came from behind—he spun and stabbed upward, impaling it through the head.
Two down. Four to go.
The tall man watched in silence, lips curled in amusement.
"You're still bound by the old code. Still obeying the balance."
Ashura dodged another swipe.
"I don't care about your balance," he hissed. "I didn't sign up for this d*mn role."
"You were born into it."
Another cultist exploded into smoke. Another creature formed.
Ashura leapt back, breathing hard.
Can't keep this up. Need a boost—need something else—
"Gatekeeper Protocol: Unsealed Memory Available. Unlock?"
"What? Now?! Why not twenty minutes ago?!"
"WARNING: Memory may cause psychological collapse."
"…Cool. Let's do it anyway."
He braced as a flood hit him. Visions.
A battlefield.
Dozens of ancient warriors—tattoos glowing, blades made of red flame—fighting across a shattered dimension. And him. Ashura. Not this version—but older, battle-hardened, eyes glowing like dying suns.
He was one of them.
A Gatekeeper.
A Warden of the Boundary.
His job wasn't just to seal the Gates.
It was to kill what came out.
Back in the temple, Ashura's eyes snapped open.
His blade shimmered—stronger, denser, now burning white-hot at the edges.
The remaining creatures hesitated.
Ashura cracked his neck.
"Round two's over.""Let's start the real fight."
End of Chapter 2
🔮 Teasers for Chapter 3:
A mysterious agent appears.
Ashura meets someone who knows more about his past than he does.
And something very, very big is about to crawl out of the next Gate.