"Should I save him? Or should I let fate decide?"
The question repeated in Asura's mind, looping over and over. Each time, the weight behind it grew heavier. He stood perfectly still, his aged hands trembling not from the cold that lingered in the riverbank air, but from the scale of the choice before him.
The laws of the divine were not made to be broken easily.
He had seen countless deaths in his time. Kings and paupers, saints and criminals had passed before him like scattered leaves swept along by the winds of change. He had never intervened. He had always honoured neutrality, knowing well that meddling with fate could bring consequences no one could predict.
But this boy was not like the others.
There was something different. Something more.
Perhaps this meeting was part of destiny. Perhaps the child had always been meant to find him.
The Asura shifted, joints groaning like old floorboards in a storm-battered temple. His appearance was worn and aged, but inside him lived a power vast enough to change the shape of the world.
"I should test my strength. It has been far too long since I offered help to anyone." His voice held layers. There was sincerity, there was curiosity, and beneath both lay something older and darker.
"Let us do something noble. Or at least pretend to."
But was it noble? Was it right? Or was he about to interfere where he should not?
The change in him began slowly.
His form shimmered with an unnatural glow. Every particle in his body vibrated at a frequency unknown to mortals. The air around him bent and shimmered, warping like a heatwave rising from stone. Reality itself seemed to hesitate in his presence. When he moved, it was not flying. He simply convinced the world that he did not need gravity.
Behind him, streaks of bright light marked his trail. Each one vanished after a few moments, leaving behind nothing but the memory of movement. He felt magistic, like something pulled from the first breath of existence.
The strength flowing through him was overwhelming. For a moment, he remembered why he had distanced himself from mankind.
"This is the danger. This is why I walked away from all of them. Power like this becomes too tempting. Too addictive."
He stretched out a hand towards the raging river.
It answered.
The Pureflow river, wise and ancient in its own way, recognised who spoke to it. It had carried ashes, secrets, and prayers for ages.
"Open," he said, and the word resonated with power deep and old.
The river obeyed.
Water divided in two, pulled aside by unseen hands. The sound it made was unnatural, like mountains being torn apart. Fish fled the scene in sudden flashes of silver. The riverbed lay revealed. Mud, silt, rusted coins, and forgotten bones surfaced all at once.
There, hanging within a still pocket of air, floated the boy.
The Asura focused all his strength. It took everything in him to hold back the force of the water. Invisible strands extended from his mind, surrounding the child. They lifted the lifeless body with gentleness that betrayed the force required.
He carried the boy to a stone platform not far from the river. Carved into the ground was a sacred pattern etched by the Asura during his last moment of spiritual clarity. As Danny's body touched the centre, the markings lit up. They responded like a door recognising its key.
The boy looked close to death. His skin had turned pale, almost blue. His lips were dark. Water still leaked from his nose and mouth. His chest barely rose.
Maybe it would be better to let him go.
But even while he considered that, the Asura lifted his glowing hands above the boy's body. Power surged within him, but he paused again. The responsibility weighed down on him like a mountain.
I have not used this skill in decades. What if I am not strong enough? What if I make things worse?
Healing was different. It required careful control. Splitting rivers was brute strength. This was something else. Too little, and the boy would not survive. Too much, and the damage might be irreversible.
Still, he had to try. He needed to know if he could still act. He needed to know if his purpose still existed beyond solitude.
He began with the lungs.
Delicate movements of his fingers pulled the water from the boy's chest. It came out in streams, bitter and cold. Each drop carried the despair that had brought the child to this place.
The Asura sensed something deeper.
This was no ordinary drowning. The damage ran beyond the physical. The boy's pain had roots older than the moment of death. But there was no time to explore it.
The boy's soul was beginning to slip away.
A faint shape, silvery and thin, hovered above the body. The Asura recognised it immediately.
Not yet. You are not leaving today.
Golden light poured from his palms. The boy's wounds began to close. Bruises faded. But the Asura did not rush. Too fast, and the healing could fail. This was not only flesh that needed repair.
He had to connect the soul to the body again.
Only the ritual could finish the process. He had to begin the binding.
What if someone sees this? Who would dare? Who would interrupt an Asura in the middle of such work? Not on a night like this. Not during a storm.
But danger watched from the shadows.
Behind a massive stone, SP Sharma and Rajendra crouched low. Rage and fear churned in their chests. Their plans were falling apart in front of them.
"What do we do? Do we attack him too? Can we even touch someone like that?" Rajendra whispered. He held his knife, but his grip was weak. The display of power had shaken him.
SP raised a finger to his lips.
"Not now. You saw what he just did." His voice was quiet, but sharp. Cold. Calculated. "He could destroy both of us in less than a breath. He could do worse."
He studied the ritual.
"We wait. He will lose focus. Sooner or later, he will become vulnerable. His compassion will distract him."
SP's eyes narrowed.
"And if that chance never comes, we still have another option. We will just kill Danny again. The river will still be here tomorrow."
There was something final in his tone. Something cruel. Something that waited patiently for the right moment.
Unaware of the danger, the Asura placed his hands on the boy's chest.
"Live," he commanded.
Light surged through his arms. The soul above began to pull back toward the body. The ritual was working. The boy's form trembled.
"I bind you to life. I call you back to breath. I"
Then the moment shattered.
Blood sprayed from his Asura's mouth.
Someone stabbed him. The blade entered silently. Cold steel pushed into his heart. The knife slid between his ribs with terrifying ease.
His defences had been lowered. His focus had been elsewhere.
"No one gets between me and my target."
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