A Few Hours Earlier
Pranith tumbled through the portal, his body weightless as the world blurred into a roaring sky. The wind howled in his ears, clouds whipped past him, and for a moment he panicked—thinking he was about to plummet to his death.
But then he noticed something strange. Birds flew straight through him without collision. His body had no weight, no form—only a presence.
"Pranith," Tarkshya's calm voice echoed inside his head, "listen carefully. You've entered the world of Genesis Wave. As I told you, you exist here only in a mental form. You have no physical body; no laws bind you. No one can see you; no one can hear you. Even if you fall from the skies, nothing will happen. So, relax. Watch this world with your own eyes."
Hearing those words, Pranith steadied his thoughts. The panic faded, replaced by awe. He gazed at the endless land beneath the clouds, soaking in the beauty.
"Alright then," he muttered, "if I'm here… tell me about this world before I land."
Tarkshya chuckled softly. "Curious already, I see. Very well. Genesis Wave is a world woven with mana—an energy that flows through all life, allowing humans to wield magic in their daily lives. But remember, only a few can truly grasp its full potential. If you wish to know more, you'll have to walk upon the ground yourself. For now…"
The voice paused, then returned with weight.
"The person you came here to observe—the one destined to change this world—is riding on that bullock cart below. Find him. His name is Rudra."
And with that, Tarkshya's presence vanished.
Pranith looked down at the cart rolling along the dirt road. There were eight passengers—four men, two women, and two elders. He frowned.
"Which one is Rudra? He can't be too old… and the name sounds like a man's. That narrows it to four."
The cart rattled into a small town, and one by one the passengers climbed off. Pranith hovered in indecision—until he heard it.
"Rudra! Wake up, we're here," the driver called.
At the back of the cart, a young man stirred. He had been sleeping with a sword clutched tightly across his chest. His eyes opened slowly, filled with fear and unease, scanning his surroundings as if waking from a nightmare.
"That's him," Pranith whispered, his heart racing.
And then, Tarkshya's voice echoed once more, sharp and certain: "You found him."
Excitement surged through Pranith. He floated closer, studying every twitch of Rudra's expression, every shadow of anxiety etched across his face.
Rudra dismounted the cart and walked through the bustling streets until he reached a grand stone building—the Adventurers' Guild.
Outside, a group of children laughed and played in the dirt, chasing each other in circles. Rudra stopped to watch. The sight of their joy seemed to soothe his restless heart; his anxious expression softened.
Pranith felt something stir in him as well, a quiet warmth. "He's broken," he thought, "but even in his brokenness, he finds peace in their laughter."
Inside the guild, the air was alive with voices—mercenaries bargaining, adventurers boasting of victories, and weapons clattering against armour. Rudra moved with quiet steps to the reception counter.
"How can I help you, sir?" the receptionist asked with a polite smile. "I… want to register," Rudra replied. His voice trembled. "Your name, please?"
"Ru…" His lips faltered. He froze.
"Sir?" the woman asked again. "Could you repeat that? I didn't catch it."
But Rudra didn't answer. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing. He heard something else—faint, but growing louder.
The sound of children crying.
His mind flashed with the memory of the kids outside. Their laughter. Their joy.
Rudra turned on his heel and rushed out of the guild.
"What's happening?" Pranith muttered, startled, chasing after him.
Outside, chaos had erupted. Five armed men dragged the same children away, one boy bleeding from a fresh wound. The kids screamed for their mothers, but no one dared intervene. People shrank back, terrified, whispering of the sigil burnt on the kidnappers' clothes—a mark too feared to oppose.
Pranith's fists clenched, frustration boiling. "Damn it, I can't do anything… I can't even touch them!"
But Rudra moved.
Fury twisted his face, veins rising on his arms as he unsheathed his blade. In a flash of steel, he severed one kidnapper's arm, grabbed the bleeding child, and tied a strip of cloth tightly to slow the blood.
The kidnappers recoiled in shock.
"You bastard!" One snarled, drawing his weapon.
"Kill him!" another barked.
They rushed at Rudra, but his rage was unstoppable. In less than two minutes, all five men lay dead in the dirt, their bodies scattered in pools of blood. Rain began to fall, washing crimson into the earth.
Rudra stood in the centre, breathing heavily, his blade dripping. Silence pressed down on the street. Mothers held their children tight. No one dared move.
Up above, Pranith floated in stunned silence, his voice barely a whisper.
"…Rudra."
The silence broke at last.
"Rudra!" a man's voice called.
Pranith turned. Another figure approached the scene—a tall young man with confident steps, someone Rudra clearly knew.
"You took your time, Dhruva," Rudra said at last, his voice cold.
Dhruva smirked faintly. "I walk at my own pace. You, on the other hand, are always too quick to shed blood. What happened here?"
"They tried to kidnap children," Rudra replied flatly. "So I killed them."
Dhruva sighed. "You really need to learn restraint. But this isn't the place to lecture you. Let's move before more trouble comes."
Rudra turned to leave, then paused. Kneeling, he met the eyes of the children, their faces stained with tears.
"Don't be afraid. You're safe now," he told them quietly.
A mother clutched his hands, sobbing. "Thank you for saving my children… thank you…"
Without a word, Rudra pressed coins into her palms.
"Get him to a healer. He'll be fine."
Then he rose, turned his back, and walked away with Dhruva.
Pranith followed silently, shaken by everything he had witnessed.
Word of the slaughter spread quickly through the town. Some praised Rudra as a saviour. Others cursed him as a menace. And in the shadows, there were those who swore vengeance.
Pranith's thoughts churned.
"Who were those kidnappers? Why were they after children? What is this world really hiding?"
He steadied himself. One thing was certain.
"I must follow him. I must see where Rudra's path leads."
End of chapter