The mountain wind howled like a restless spirit, rattling the jagged stones of the ancient cavern. A faint glow flickered from cracks between rocks, as if the cave itself breathed with secret life.
Ravi Rawat moved silently through the narrow passage, every step careful, every breath measured. The air was thick with damp earth and old incense. Around him, faded murals of forgotten monks watched silently — their painted eyes seeming to follow his every movement.
Beside him, his childhood friend Kiran kept pace, his face tense but determined. Kiran had grown up in the village below, a fierce loyalist to Ravi's quiet strength — always ready to fight, always ready to stand by his side.
"Ravi," Kiran whispered, "are you sure this is wise? The monks forbade us from coming here."
Ravi's eyes never left the carved stone door ahead. Its surface was worn smooth by centuries of rain and shadow. On its center lay a lotus etched with intricate mantras, its petals curling inward like the fingers of a resting hand.
"I don't have a choice," Ravi said quietly. "If the stories are true... this is where it all began."
He swallowed the nervous knot in his throat and pressed his palm gently against the cold stone.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—a pulse.
Not a sound, not a light. A heartbeat, steady and deep, pulsing through his bones, whispering promises of power long lost.
Behind them, a soft footfall caught Ravi's attention.
Meera, the village healer's daughter, stepped from the shadows, her eyes wide but steady. She had always been more than a friend to Ravi — her quiet strength a balm to his restless spirit.
"Ravi," she said softly, "whatever you find here, be careful. There are forces you don't understand."
Before he could answer, a sudden crack shattered the stillness.
From the darkness, a figure lunged—masked, silent, deadly.
Kiran stepped forward, dagger raised, but Ravi shook his head.
"Stay back," he ordered.
The blade sliced toward Ravi's neck.
The world slowed.
His body moved on instinct, faster than thought.
His hand snapped forward—not to block, but to touch.
Fingers curled like the petals of the lotus.
The assassin's blade stopped mid-air, frozen as if caught in invisible chains.
Ravi's palm glowed faintly, an emptiness spreading from his skin.
Then the blade shattered.
The assassin's eyes widened behind the mask, terror bleeding through.
With a whispered breath, Ravi struck—a strike without sound, without force, without anger.
The assassin crumpled, falling to the ground like a ragdoll.
Ravi stood alone in the silent cave, the echo of that heartbeat still thrumming in his veins.
Meera stepped closer, eyes searching his face.
"What… what did you just do?"
Ravi shook his head, breath coming fast.
"The power... it chose me."
Kiran exhaled shakily.
"This changes everything."
Ravi looked at them both—the friend who'd fight beside him and the girl who quietly held his heart.
His journey had begun.
And nothing would ever be the same again.