The success of Shakti's trial, bittersweet with the sacrifice of the ancient tree, ignited a desperate hope within the Guardians. The knowledge that Kaband's immortality was not absolute, that a path to counter Isha's dark power existed, fueled their resolve. With Kapil still recovering, his wound a stark reminder of their enemy's brutal force, the focus shifted to Deva. Guru Brahman consulted ancient star charts, their intricate patterns mirroring the cosmic forces Deva intuitively understood. "The next legacy," he announced, his voice a low hum of ancient knowledge, "resides within the Celestial Nexus. A place not of the physical world, but of pure gravitational and cosmic energy. It is where the Monarchy of Cosmos once communed with the very fabric of the universe."
The Celestial Nexus was not a destination one could reach by traditional means. It was a shifting, ephemeral space, a labyrinth woven from starlight and cosmic dust, existing in a realm accessible only through profound meditation and a unique connection to universal forces. Deva, whose "trapping inside the night" experience had given him a glimpse of the cosmic dance, felt a familiar, magnetic pull towards this enigmatic realm. The corruption on his/her arm, though slowly receding with the Institution's healing arts, pulsed with an almost eager resonance, a strange counterpoint to the cosmic energy.
Guru Brahman prepared a specialized meditation chamber for Deva, a circular room with walls designed to project swirling constellations and holographic representations of black holes and nebulae, mirroring the cosmic expanse. Nitin and Shakti stood guard outside, their presence a grounding anchor for Deva's spirit as he embarked on this internal journey.
Deva entered the chamber, his spear lying before him, a silent conduit. He closed his eyes, and the chamber dissolved. He was adrift in a boundless void, filled with swirling galaxies and distant, winking stars. This was the Cosmic Labyrinth, a realm of pure thought and immense gravitational forces. But the beauty was deceptive. The whispers of the "trapping inside the night" returned, not as fear, but as a test. Spectral forms of dark matter, amorphous and unsettling, drifted past, threatening to pull him into crushing singularities, echoes of Isha's chaotic gravity. He felt the subtle, insidious pull of false pathways, illusions designed to trap and disorient.
The trial was not about combat, but navigation and balance. Deva had to distinguish between the natural, harmonious gravitational pulls that formed the Cosmic Labyrinth and the chaotic, destructive forces of Isha's influence, cleverly disguised as cosmic anomalies. He used his spear not as a weapon, but as a divining rod, its faint hum guiding him/her through the shifting pathways, sensing the true flow of the cosmos. He learned to feel the minute fluctuations in gravitational fields, to ride the currents of cosmic energy, to avoid the crushing embrace of false black holes and the chaotic dispersion of rogue nebulae.
Visions flooded his mind: the birth of stars, the silent collapse of dying suns, the delicate dance of binary systems. He saw the Kenaf Monarch of Cosmos, a being of pure, radiant light, weaving the fabric of the universe with effortless grace, orchestrating the celestial ballet. He understood that true gravitational power wasn't about brute force, but about understanding the intricate balance of universal laws, of knowing when to push and when to pull, when to gather and when to disperse. The corrupted arm, still sensitive, served as a painful, constant reminder of the chaos, allowing Deva to identify the "dark heartbeat" within the cosmic symphony, the insidious notes of Isha's intrusion.
Nitin and Shakti, waiting outside the chamber, could feel the energy emanating from within. The chamber occasionally pulsed with immense gravitational fluctuations, a testament to Deva's profound internal struggle. Small objects in the hallway would briefly levitate, then fall with a heavy thud. A faint, cosmic hum resonated through the walls, punctuated by almost imperceptible distortions in the air. They stood firm, a silent bastion of support, their bond with Deva a tangible link in the face of such overwhelming power.
Finally, the cosmic hum subsided, replaced by a profound, serene stillness. Deva emerged, his eyes, deep and luminous, reflecting the vastness of the cosmos. The corrupted mark on his arm had faded entirely, leaving behind only healthy, unblemished skin. His spear, once merely glowing, now pulsed with a rhythmic, almost planetary pulse, its presence radiating immense, controlled power. Deva had truly become a conduit for the Monarchy of Cosmos's legacy.