It was a moonless night. It was also called the night of Amawas, when the devil powers were in their peak.
Within the inner sanctum of the Ashram — a place once reserved for prayer and peace — an enormous ritual circle had been carved into the earth.
Symbols etched in ash and bone pulsed with a demonic energy, glowing faintly red under the flicker of torches.
In the center blazed a massive Yajna Kunda, a pit of living fire fueled by cursed wood and blood-soaked offerings.
And in the middle of fire circle there was 100 of spears, which shape were like the dick, but they were sharp.
Swami Vairagyanand stood before it in dark ceremonial robes, eyes closed, chanting from a forbidden scripture—the Granth of Narka, a tome sealed away for centuries.
Surrounding him were his most loyal—and most corrupted—disciples. Men who no longer bowed to gods, but to something older and far more sinister.
And then came the victims.
There were 100 of girls, and in between them, their were also Leela and Rashmi, dressed in ceremonial red, were dragged forward by ash-covered acolytes.
Their hands were bound with sacred thread, tight enough to cut through skin. Their faces were pale, streaked with tears, but they did not scream. Their voices had already been worn thin by hours of weeping.
"Please," Rashmi begged, voice hoarse. "This... this is madness. You promised peace... you promised union with the divine!"
Leela collapsed to her knees. "You said we were chosen," she whispered. "Not for this. Not like this."
But the Swami did not flinch. His voice thundered through the chamber:
"When the fire of purity meets the blood of union, The gates of Narka shall part, And the Lord of Flame shall rise. Death shall kneel. And the world shall burn clean again."
As the chant echoed, the acolytes drew their ceremonial daggers—long, curved blades blackened by countless rituals.
The women were led to the edge of the fire circle, and soon, their red ceremonial dress was removed from them. They become totally nude in front of these devils.
The acolytes pushed them the down, and make the 100 of girls sit on the cock shaped spear.
Through it the spear reach inside their pussy, and but it not only stopped there. It directly touched the womb of them.
All the woman screamed in pain, while the blood flewed through their pussy because of the sharp spears.
And one by one the crimson drop, drip onto the earth.
The fire screamed—like a thousand lost souls wailing in unison.
For every drop of blood that touched the cursed symbols, the flames grew higher, more frenzied, twisting into shapes that didn't belong to this world.
Rashmi clung to Leela, both shaking violently. From the pain of spear reaching inside them.
"You will not rise from this," Leela shouted to the Swami. "Dev will come. He will avenge us."
The Swami only smiled — the smile of a man who believed himself already above death.
"Let him come," he said. "When he arrived, I will also send them to you."
And with that, the ritual reached its crescendo.
As the final chant was uttered and the last drop of blood fell, the Yajna Kunda exploded upward in a column of black fire, revealing the eye of Narka—a swirling void from another dimension, where nothing pure could survive.
The Narka Yajna had begun.
---
The sky turned crimson.
The Narka Yajna, born from the fire pit of sacrificed blood, rose—a towering mass of flame, bone, and void.
Its form was not entirely physical: it flickered between flesh and inferno, its scream echoing like ten thousand tortured souls.
Horns of molten iron twisted from its skull, and its hands carried the weight of ancient damnation.
Swami Vairagyanand stood before it, laughing with tears in his eyes. "The end begins! Cleanse the false gods! Cleanse the river of purity!"
The monster roared—a howl that split the skies.
And it moved towards the temple.
—
Inside the Temple beneath the river.
Far below the surface, within the hidden temple carved by forgotten gods, Dev knelt in meditation, the Neerchakra glowing around him in calm waves of water and blue light.
Beside him sat Aamira, her eyes closed in peaceful harmony, now one with the sacred currents of the Neerchakra.
But suddenly—
A blinding pain pierced Dev's heart.
His breath caught. His eyes snapped open.
"I… I've lost something."
He staggered to his feet. The Neerchakra swirled violently around him, its water turning cloudy—disturbed. Aamira looked up, confused. "Dev?"
"I don't know what... but something... dear to me—" His voice faltered. His fists clenched.
Before he could speak further, the walls of the temple shook violently.
The stone cracked.
Water churned, bubbling unnaturally.
Then—a soundless roar, deep and monstrous, echoed through the sanctum. It wasn't noise; it was pressure, hatred, the will to destroy.
Dev turned toward the inner shrine just as a red-hot ripple of heat spread through the water. The sacred river began to boil.
The Narka Yajna had arrived.
Even submerged deep in water, its fire blazed with unholy power. The river itself could not withstand the infernal heat—it began to vaporize, clouds of steam rising to the surface. Fish died instantly. The temple's protective sigils began to flicker.
The pillars cracked, and debris fell like divine tears.
"No…" Dev whispered. "He brought it here. The Swami… he dared to summon that."
Aamira stood at his side, her hands glowing faintly. "We have to defend the sanctum. If this place falls, all of Rajbhumi's powers will collapse."
Dev's eyes flared with the light of Neerchakra.
"No, not fall. Not today."
He turned toward the shrine, his voice rising in invocation.
"Neerchakra, child of the primal ocean. Rise and strike the fire-born beast. Let the tides of justice drown the flame of the damned!"
With a roar, the waters responded.
A massive tidal serpent—formed of glowing water and ancient power—uncoiled from the pool around the altar and launched itself toward the ceiling above.
The temple, though cracking, surged with blue light, a force against the invasion.
But the Narka Yajna didn't stopped here. Using his fire, he destroyed the serpent.
Its flames pushed downward, seeking to consume the temple and everything inside.
---
The sky above churned with clouds blackened by ancient rage. From within the depths of the river, the hidden temple shimmered violently—its ancient protections faltering under the unnatural assault of the Narka Yajna.
The temple shook again as the Narka Yajna descended.
It pierced the river like a flaming spear, the surrounding waters boiling and vaporizing on contact. Steam hissed, rising in vast clouds that darkened the horizon. The demon's molten claws clawed toward the sanctum's heart.
Dev and Aamira stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the cracked dome of the temple, the Neerchakra flaring around them like a living ocean.
Dev raised both hands, his body glowing with the energy of the scroll. His voice thundered through the watery silence:
"Jalam eva shaktiḥ – naśayati, pālayati, janayati!"
"Water is power—it destroys, it protects, it creates."
Rings of water surged from his body. A wall of oceanic force collided with the Narka Yajna's fiery limbs, the two powers locking in a thunderous explosion of steam and flame.
But the demon was relentless.
Its molten mouth split open with a guttural growl, hurling spears of cursed flame. One struck a pillar beside Aamira—shattering it—and sent her tumbling backward.
"Aamira!" Dev shouted, rushing to shield her.
She rose, blood streaking her temple, but her eyes burned with determination. Her palms glowed blue as she unleashed a pulse of sacred water, momentarily forcing the demon back.
"Together!" she cried. "Like Varuna showed us!"
Dev nodded. They clasped hands, their energies fusing.
Then, with a whisper of divine invocation, they chanted:
"Vṛṣṭi-nāga udgaccha! Jalātmā rakṣaka bhava!"
"Rain-dragon, rise! Water-soul, become our shield!"
The ground beneath them trembled.
From the Neerchakra's altar, water spiraled upward, twisting into a majestic form: a colossal water dragon, glittering like sapphire, with four legs and silver whiskers that whipped like lightning.
Its body shimmered with runes from the scroll, and its roar was the sound of crashing tides.
The Narka Yajna rose higher still—twice the dragon's size, its form twisting with hatred.
From its chest, the scorched faces of the sacrificed women screamed, whispering curses and agony.
Its claws bled lava. Its wings beat with smoke and fire.
With a sound like the rupture of the world's crust, the two collided.
The dragon struck first—curling through the air in a spiral of force.
It bit into the demon's shoulder, ripping through cursed flesh. Steam exploded outward.
In answer, the Narka Yajna seized the dragon's throat with both hands and dragged it into the sky, slamming it down upon the shattered earth with fire bursting from its mouth.
Dev and Aamira, floating at the heart of the temple's sacred wellspring, fought to hold control.
"Push harder!" Aamira shouted, her arms spread wide. The veins in her face glowed blue, her body nearly consumed by the Neerchakra's energy.
The dragon reared again, now moving faster.
It swerved around Narka Yajna's next blow, twisted its body into a whip of tidal force, and struck the demon across the face with a shockwave of crushing water.
"Nāga-jala, śatru-bhedī, aśeṣa-tāpa-harā!"
"Dragon of water, enemy-piercer, destroyer of endless suffering!"
The Narka Yajna screamed and unleashed a storm of fire meteors, hurling molten bolts from its chest. Each one exploded against the dragon's flank, cracking the watery armor. The heat began to overwhelm the dragon's body—boiling it from within.
Dev's knees buckled. His eyes bled. "It's… too strong."
Aamira turned toward him, her face pale, lips trembling. "The Neerchakra… isn't enough with just us sharing it."
She placed her hands on Dev's chest, gently, lovingly.
"I know what to do."
His eyes widened. "No. No, Aamira, not that. Please."
She smiled—softly, bravely. "We were never meant to survive this, Dev. But you were meant to win."
Before he could stop her, she leaned forward and whispered.
"Water remembers love."
Then she pressed her lips to his.
And with that final act of surrender and love, she poured every drop of her power into Dev—into the dragon—into the Neerchakra.
Her body arched, glowing brilliantly blue.
And then—
She vanished.
Dev screamed—not from pain, but from the tearing of his soul. His heart shattered into silence.
The dragon felt it too.
It reared, howled, and transformed—its form no longer water, but liquid memory and wrath. It turned blinding silver-blue. Its four claws became five and extended into spears of holy force.
It charged—full speed—toward the stunned Narka Yajna.
"Jalādityaṁ prahāraya!"
"Strike like the sun through water!"
The dragon spiraled through the air, wrapped itself around the demon's body, and crushed it.
The Narka Yajna's fire hissed, screamed, collapsed.
Then with one final roar, the water dragon's mouth opened and swallowed the demon whole, dragging it into the deep.
The river calmed.
The skies cleared.
And silence fell.
Dev collapsed at the altar, alone, his love gone… her echo now part of every drop that surrounded him.
He didn't cry.
Because there was nothing left inside.
Only water.
---
And far above, in the Ashram, Swami Vairagyanand felt the severed link to his summoned demon—and knew something terrible had happened.