Location: Thar Desert – The Dead Dunes
The desert stretched endlessly, an ocean of gold under a cruel sun. The sand shimmered like liquid fire, but the deeper they went, the more the air felt… wrong.
Not hot.
Not dry.
Just still.
Too still.
Aarav shielded his eyes. "This place is cursed."
Diya adjusted her scarf. "We're close to the ruins of Suryakhet. It was swallowed by a sandstorm in a single night. No survivors."
"I can hear whispers," Aarav muttered.
"Then stop listening."
But he couldn't. Ever since the Wheel of Memory had bonded to him, he didn't just hear echoes of the past—he felt them. Beneath their feet, ghosts murmured in languages long dead.
> "The Flame dies in sand."
"The Djinn waits."
"He is coming…"
---
At the Edge of the Ruins
The ancient gates of Suryakhet rose like teeth from the dunes—half-buried, half-intact. Statues of warrior-kings guarded the entrance, their eyes gouged out by time.
"This used to be a city of sun priests," Diya said. "They controlled the Djinn, until something went wrong."
Aarav's eyes narrowed. "Ashvra?"
She nodded. "According to myth, he freed the first Djinn as a child."
They stepped through the gates. The sand inside was darker… redder. As if stained with forgotten blood.
Then, a sound cracked the silence.
Not wind.
Chains.
And then it rose.
---
The Stormborn Djinn
A monstrous entity burst from beneath the sand. Its body was half-smoke, half-flesh, bound in ancient manacles glowing blue with cursed runes. Eyes like molten gold burned beneath a hood of shifting clouds.
> "The bearer of the Wheel," it hissed. "The broken king returns."
Aarav flared with fire instinctively, his aura igniting.
But the Djinn absorbed it. The sand around them lifted into a spinning cyclone. Diya nearly flew off her feet.
Aarav growled. "You want a fight? Let's burn."
---
Battle in the Sands
The Djinn moved like a storm given shape, its limbs trailing smoke. Aarav conjured flame swords with a thought, spinning, slashing—but the Djinn phased through them, reforming instantly.
It struck back.
A pillar of sand crushed into Aarav's side, throwing him into a crumbling tower. The Wheel pulsed, absorbing the impact and slowing time for a split second—just enough to dodge the follow-up blow.
Diya activated a glyph bomb, hurling it into the air. It exploded into light, momentarily blinding the Djinn.
"NOW!" she screamed.
Aarav focused the Wheel. Time bent, revealing five outcomes.
Only one led to victory.
He moved.
In a blur, he reappeared behind the Djinn and stabbed his sword directly into the creature's shadow—the only thing still tethered to the earth.
The Djinn screamed. His body convulsed, imploding into a swirl of storm and fire.
Then silence.
---
The Truth Beneath the Ruins
The sand parted, revealing a staircase spiraling downward.
The Wheel vibrated in Aarav's hand.
"That's where the Djinn was sealed," Diya said. "And where the third Regalia should be."
They descended.
Torchlight revealed murals along the walls—of a great betrayal. A child with silver hair standing before seven kneeling kings. A shattered crown. A dying sun.
"Was that Ashvra?" Aarav whispered.
At the bottom sat a pedestal… and atop it, a floating crystal orb wrapped in golden script.
The third Regalia.
Aarav stepped forward, but the Wheel flared.
> "Warning: Echo anomaly detected."
A second presence appeared behind them.
---
Ashvra Appears
"Touch it, and I'll bury you here," came the voice.
Aarav spun.
Ashvra stood in the doorway—clad in black and silver robes, eyes glowing like frost, the Blade of Echoes floating beside him like a phantom.
"I see the fire hasn't killed you yet," Ashvra smiled. "Shame. You always were too stubborn to die properly."
"You betrayed me," Aarav growled.
"Correction," Ashvra said, stepping closer. "I freed you—from a life of delusion. You think this empire was worth saving?"
He extended a hand.
The orb began to float toward him.
Aarav raised the Wheel. Time froze—for everyone but them.
---
Memory Clash
Their minds connected.
Suddenly they stood on opposite sides of a throne room—past lives clashing like waves. Kings. Friends. Brothers. Enemies.
Ashvra sneered. "You still don't get it. The Regalia don't make you a savior. They make you a god. And gods are meant to rule."
Aarav shouted, "Then I'll be the god that stops you!"
They lunged at the same time.
---
Shattered Regalia
The Blade of Echoes met the Crown of Flame.
A shockwave cracked the chamber. The crystal orb shattered midair.
A blinding light erupted.
Both Aarav and Ashvra were flung in opposite directions, the walls collapsing.
Diya screamed.
Aarav blinked, coughing through rubble. The Regalia pieces lay scattered.
But something new stood where the orb had been—a fragment of memory, still glowing.
He reached for it—
And saw everything.
---
The Emperor's Final Day
Aaravansha, on his throne. Ashvra kneeling. An army waiting outside the gates.
"Don't do this," Aarav said.
Ashvra whispered, "You were never meant to rule. You feared the future. I am the future."
Then, a blade through the heart.
Ashvra didn't betray him for power.
He did it to prevent something worse.
A prophecy.
> "When the Fire, the Wheel, and the Blade reunite… time will collapse."
Aarav snapped out of it, stunned.
Ashvra was gone.
---
Aftermath
The temple collapsed behind them. Diya helped Aarav out.
"What did you see?"
He didn't answer.
He only stared into the horizon, where storm clouds gathered again.
"The Regalia aren't just weapons," he whispered. "They're pieces of something… ancient. Something broken."
Diya nodded slowly. "Then maybe it's better they stay that way."
Aarav closed his fist. The Wheel pulsed in response.
"Too late."
---
Far North — A Frozen Temple
Ashvra knelt before a massive sealed door shaped like an eye.
A deep voice echoed from within. "The fire remembers. The wheel spins. Have you brought the spark?"
Ashvra dropped a single drop of blood onto the ice.
"It begins again," he said.
The door cracked open.
---
⚡ To be continued…