From nearby, Pratham Vanshi's presence radiated calm authority. Though weakened by the divine energy, she raised her hands gently toward Gauri. "Child… my powers are no longer yours to wield. But my blessings… my faith… they go with you. Remember, the path is yours to walk. Your heart, your courage, and your devotion will be your weapons. Stand strong, and the world may yet be saved."
Gauri bowed her head, feeling the warmth of the blessing flow into her very soul. "I will not fail… not for my family, not for the world," she whispered.
Pratham Vanshi's eyes softened as she looked at her granddaughter, Charvi. "You are the first of the next lineage, Charvi. Carry it well. But today… this battle belongs to Gauri. Lead with your heart, my child."
Gauri raised her gaze, determination blazing in her eyes. Around her, the family—Dadi, Veena, Sharda, Yug, Urvashi—stood united, their presence lending her courage.
"This is our fight," Gauri murmured, gripping the Pratham Jaal. "I will not let darkness win. Not Vihaan… not my family… not this world."
The Jaal pulsed in her hands, alive with divine energy, and for the first time, Gauri felt truly ready. The storm of Pralay awaited, but she would face it head-on.
At the Kothari Mansion
The sky above the mansion had turned a deep, ominous red, as if the heavens themselves were bleeding. Inside, Vihaan stood tall, clad in black, his eyes glowing with the full force of Sarvansh Raj. Every heartbeat echoed like a drum of doom.
"This ends in two hours," he declared, his voice void of mercy. "By the time the clock strikes, nothing will remain—neither my family, nor Jalpanchi… nor anyone who dares stand in my way."
The shadows around him writhed, bending to his will, as Mohini's laughter filled the halls, a sinister symphony to the impending apocalypse. The family trembled, bound by fear yet unwilling to retreat, knowing that every second brought them closer to Pralay.
---
At the Jungle
Amid the chaos of the storm, the Pratham Vanshi, weakened by the recent clash of divine energies, sat supported by Charvi. Her silver-white hair was damp with rain, yet her eyes shone with an eternal calm.
"Gauri… only you can stop what is coming," she said, her voice firm yet tender. She reached out a frail hand, placing it on Gauri's shoulder. "Your heart… your courage… they are the weapons against darkness. Trust yourself, child."
Tears streamed down Charvi's cheeks as she held her grandmother close. "Nani…"
Pratham Vanshi smiled faintly, her strength ebbing. "The lineage continues through you, Charvi, but this moment… this battle… it belongs to Gauri. Protect your heart. Protect the world."
With a final, shuddering breath, the ancient guardian passed away in Charvi's arms. Silence fell, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder and the cries of the family, honoring her life and sacrifice.
Gauri tightened her grip on the Pratham Jaal, her chest swelling with a mix of grief and resolve. Around her, the family—Dadi, Veena, Sharda, Yug, Urvashi, Charvi—stood ready, united.
"The world won't fall while I still breathe," Gauri whispered, eyes blazing. "Vihaan… I will stop you."
Far away, the mansion loomed like a dark fortress. Vihaan and Mohini waited, poised to unleash destruction. The final battle was imminent, and the fate of the world hung by a single thread.
The night over the Kothari mansion did not simply fall —
it descended like a curse.
Clouds churned restlessly above the estate, swollen and red, as if the sky were smoldering from within. The air was thick, heavy, tasting faintly of ash. Not a bird cried. Not a leaf rustled. Even nature seemed to fear taking a breath.
Inside the mansion, darkness clung to every corner.
The grand hall stretched vast and hollow, its chandeliers flickering with a dull, sickly flame. Black smoke lingered along the ceiling, coiling like serpents made of shadow.
From the center of the hall, a slow, rhythmic sound echoed—
Click… click… click…
Mohini's braids scraped across the marble floor, twisting and coiling, spreading like a dark forest reclaiming ground. Her eyes gleamed an inhuman red; her smile was faint, cruel, hungry.
All around her, her coven stood — a circle of dayans, swaying slightly, their hair whispering against the floor with a life of its own. The scent of rotten roses and burning iron seeped through the room.
And then, there was Vihaan.
He stood still.
Unmoving.
As silent as a statue, but radiating a power that felt like volcanic pressure trapped inside a human body. Veins of blue and gold pulsed across his skin like lightning under flesh.
His eyes — one golden, one blue — glowed with an unnatural, unsettling calm.
He tilted his chin slightly upward, as though feeling the heartbeat of the world under his feet. The air around him hissed softly, as if scorched by an invisible fire.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried a chilling softness, an echo layered beneath it:
"They're coming."
Mohini's gaze sharpened.
"And they will fall."
Vihaan did not respond.
He simply lifted a hand, and the dayans stilled, their hair rising as though in salute.
A moment of perfect, horrifying silence stretched…
…long enough to feel like the world was holding its breath.
Then—
BOOM.
The mansion's front doors exploded inward.