The road after Manu's basin curved into high open plains, where the wind ran free and the sky stretched endlessly.
Ganesh walked quietly, the wooden tablet from Manu secured in his pack. His mind was full — of law, of responsibility, of how easily even good intentions could harden into chains.
Aneet walked beside him, eyes alert, posture steady.
For once, she was the one watching the road more than him.
"You've been quiet since we left," she said.
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"I was thinking about what he said," he replied. "That I might change more than thrones ever could."
She glanced at him.
"That thought scares you."
Ganesh nodded.
"Yes."
They walked in silence a little longer.
Then the air shifted.
Not like wind.
Like awareness.
Aneet stopped first.
"Something's wrong," she said.
Ganesh felt it too — the fire within him tightening, not flaring.
They stood atop a low ridge and looked down.
Below lay a wide circular hollow in the earth, its edges smooth, as if carved by ancient hands. At its center rose a tall crystal pillar glowing faintly blue and gold.
Around it drifted shapes.
Not bodies.
Forms of light and shadow — half-formed beings, murmuring in low voices that felt more like thoughts than sound.
Ganesh frowned.
"This isn't a place for mortals," he said.
Aneet's eyes narrowed.
"Yet here we are."
As they descended, the murmurs grew clearer.
Fragments reached their minds:
Choice…
Stability…
Change…
Preserve…
The pillar pulsed when they approached.
From its light emerged a tall, radiant being, neither fully male nor female, neither young nor old. Its form shimmered as if made of thought itself.
Its voice echoed directly in their minds.
"Walkers of will and balance."
"You stand before the Axis of Possibility."
Ganesh felt the weight of the place settle on him.
"What is this place?" he asked.
"Where paths are weighed before they become time," the being replied.
"Not fate… but probability."
Aneet tilted her head.
"You mean this is where what might happen gathers?"
The being inclined its head.
"Yes."
Ganesh's jaw tightened.
"And why are we here?" he asked.
The being turned its gaze to him.
"Because one who reshapes currents walks dangerously close to breaking them."
Then it looked at Aneet.
"And one who balances him must decide when the flame grows too strong."
Ganesh stiffened.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
The being raised a hand.
The crystal pillar flared, and visions formed around them.
They saw futures branching like roots.
In some, Ganesh walked alone, fire blazing, changing events again and again — saving many… but slowly becoming distant, detached, almost godlike.
In others, he hesitated, holding back his will — and watched suffering spread that he could have stopped.
Then they saw a few rare paths…
Where he did not walk alone.
Where Aneet stood beside him — sometimes stepping ahead, sometimes stopping him, sometimes choosing a different road entirely.
In those paths, the world changed…
Not fastest.
But deepest.
Ganesh's breath caught.
The being spoke:
"The flame can consume the field if untempered."
"Balance can stagnate if unchallenged."
Then it turned fully to Aneet.
"Archer of clarity, this choice is not his."
"It is yours."
Aneet stiffened.
"My choice?" she asked.
Ganesh turned to her sharply.
"What choice?"
The being replied:
"There will come a time when his will can force the world to bend."
"When he can change a turning that even gods accept."
"In that moment, only you will stand near enough to say yes… or no."
Ganesh shook his head.
"That's not fair," he said. "She didn't choose this path to judge me."
Aneet looked at him steadily.
"I chose to walk beside you," she said. "That's not nothing."
The being continued:
"If she says yes, the flame may save many… but burn away what makes him human."
"If she says no, many may suffer… but he will remain whole."
Silence fell.
Ganesh felt a cold weight in his chest.
"You're asking her to carry my consequences," he said.
The being nodded.
"Yes."
Ganesh stepped forward.
"No," he said firmly. "If such a choice comes, it will be mine."
The being turned its gaze back to him.
"You will not see yourself clearly in that moment."
"Flame cannot judge its own heat."
Aneet took a slow breath.
Then she stepped forward.
"If that moment comes," she said, "I won't choose based on what saves the most or hurts the least."
Ganesh looked at her.
"Then what will you choose?" he asked quietly.
She met his gaze.
"I'll choose what lets you keep walking without losing yourself," she said. "Because if you become something else… then whatever you save won't be the world I believe in anymore."
The being inclined its head.
"Balance has spoken."
The pillar flared brighter.
The murmurs around them softened.
Then the being raised a hand toward Aneet.
A faint symbol of light formed on her palm — not a mark of ownership, but of recognition.
"From this moment," the being said,
"you are not only his companion."
"You are a Witness of Will."
Aneet looked at her glowing palm, then closed her fist.
"I didn't ask for a title," she said.
The being replied gently:
"You were not given one. You claimed it."
Ganesh stepped to her side.
"What does this mean for her?" he asked.
"It means," the being said,
"that when the flame seeks to remake time itself, the balance will be seen and heard."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"Then I will never walk so far that she cannot reach me," he said.
Aneet looked at him.
"You'd better not," she said quietly.
The being stepped back.
"Then go," it said.
"Walk your unwritten road. Both of you."
The crystal pillar dimmed.
The hollow faded.
And suddenly, they stood once more on the open plain, the wind sweeping across grass as if nothing had ever been there.
They stood in silence.
Aneet finally spoke.
"So," she said, "apparently I get to tell you when you're about to ruin existence."
Ganesh let out a small, shaky laugh.
"That sounds like too much responsibility."
She smiled faintly.
"Good. I'll take it seriously then."
He looked at her.
"You know I won't always like it," he said.
She met his gaze steadily.
"I know," she replied. "That's why it has to be me."
Ganesh nodded slowly.
"Then I trust you."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't already?"
He smiled.
"I do now… with my whole road."
They resumed walking.
Two flames.
No longer just walking together.
But shaping each other.