Darkness stretched endlessly… until warmth began to flicker — a voice from the past.
Ka… Karan…
A soft voice echoed through the darkness—delicate, almost divine.
It was the kind of voice that felt like it could grant liberation itself.
"Karan… we will become heroes together. Together, we will save the world."
A faint, hazy face appeared before Karan's eyes, speaking with a certainty he could almost touch.
"Wh… what… am I dreaming?"
he muttered, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the surreal vision.
The air shimmered. Colors shifted.
Suddenly, laughter and sunlight flooded his senses.
"Hey… wait… don't run, Ayra! Please, or you'll fall!"
Karan blinked rapidly, eyes widening.
"Huh… this… this is me… when I was little,"
he whispered, gently pinching his own cheeks to confirm it wasn't an illusion.
"Dummy. We'll become superheroes. This little scrape won't stop me,"
a familiar voice said.
Ayra—her hair tied in a playful ponytail—was running ahead, her laughter bright and reckless. Then she suddenly stopped, turned toward him, and dashed closer with a radiant smile.
"Huh… why… why are you coming toward me?"
Karan asked, confusion and awe intertwining in his tone.
Ayra grabbed his hand and pulled him along, her grip warm and real.
"Hey… you need to take little Karan with you. Leave me!"
he protested, half-laughing, half-confused.
But Ayra didn't stop. Her grin widened, lighting her face with determination and joy. Karan stared at her—his young heart thudding—as a strange numbness crept into his chest.
Halt.
They both froze. Ayra reached into her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and gently wiped Karan's face.
"Hey, you idiot. Did you forget your promise? You said we'd become superheroes together and save this world!"
"B… but… I'm powerless. How can I defeat any creature without powers?"
His eyes dropped to the ground, filled with doubt.
Slap.
"Oww… he… hey! You're mad!"
Karan rubbed his cheek, startled.
"No. You're mad,"
Ayra shot back, unwavering.
"Karan, you don't need a superpower to become a hero. I know you're strong,"
she said softly.
Karan looked up at her. Slowly, like morning mist, Ayra began to fade.
"You promise me… that you'll become strong and stand by my side? Then hurry. I'm waiting for you,"
she whispered, almost disappearing into the light.
"Ye… yes. I'll try,"
Karan said, a broad smile spreading across his face—determination finally lighting his eyes.
______
A white wall appeared—hazy and distant.
Karan blinked, his vision slowly clearing as reality returned like a heavy tide.
"Huh… where am I?"
He felt someone holding his hand. Turning his head, he saw Priya sitting beside him in a hospital room, worry carved deep into her face.
"Hello… sister. Now wake up. How long do you plan to sleep like Kumbhkaran (the sleeping beast)?"
Karan mumbled with a groggy smile.
Priya's eyes widened. She pulled him into a tight embrace, her voice trembling.
"You idiot. What were you doing by the Yamuna at night? Did you want to die? Have you given up on life?"
"What are you saying?"
he asked, confusion twisting his features.
"You were found lying by the Yamuna. Mom, Dad, Aarush… everyone was worried sick!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her hands shaking as she tried to hold herself together.
"Hey, stop crying. I just fainted while sitting on the boat,"
Karan said softly, gently wiping her tears.
The tension slowly faded from her shoulders. But deep down, Karan knew something had changed.
Something had awakened.
______
Meanwhile — Mumbai
While Karan recovered in the hospital, far away in Mumbai, another meeting was taking place—one that would shape the future of every hero on Earth.
The University of Heroes (UOH)
The ticking of a clock echoed across the empty office. A cool breeze slipped through the cracked window, rustling the papers scattered across the desk.
Two heroes—Blazefury and Crimson Blade—stood rigidly before the head of the University of Heroes.
The head remained seated, his sharp gaze fixed not on them but on the wall ahead.
"Good work, Crimson Blade. But you should have finished them all,"
he said, tapping his fingers repeatedly against the armrest.
"I'm sorry, sir… there were too many of them. If we had fought, innocent people might have been caught in the crossfire,"
Crimson Blade replied softly, her voice low, almost submissive.
"Hmm. I trust you'll find out who they really are,"
he said.
"Yes, sir. We're conducting a full investigation."
"Good. You may leave."
Crimson Blade bowed slightly and turned to exit. Beside her, Rihan—also known as Blazefury—stood silent, his brows furrowed.
Won't the old man ask me anything?
he thought bitterly.
They turned to go, but—
"You fireball! Who told you to leave? I only said Crimson Blade could go,"
the head snapped, his voice sharp as a whip.
Crimson Blade glanced back briefly before leaving, her expression unreadable. Rihan remained frozen, jaw tightening.
The chair swiveled. The head's piercing gaze met his. Rihan straightened instinctively.
"How many terrorists have you killed, Rihan… or should I say Blazefury?"
the head asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
"Ha… I think our head is getting old. Maybe you didn't hear what Crimson Blade said,"
Rihan replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Rihan, you are a hero, not a bag full of ego,"
the head said, rising from his seat.
"Control your arrogance, or people will start disliking you."
He placed a firm hand on Rihan's shoulder.
Snap.
Rihan jerked away, his voice sharp.
"Sir, just because I'm the most powerful doesn't mean I'm egoistic!"
For a moment, something flickered in head's eyes — not anger, but old regret.
The head's eyes darkened.
"Who am I, Rihan?"
"You are the head of UOH,"
Rihan replied coldly.
"No… before being the head of UOH, what was I?"
"You were a hero too, sir."
The head stepped closer, pressing a finger against Rihan's chest.
Thud.
Rihan was flung backward, crashing through the office wall. Dust and plaster rained down as he hit the floor, blood spilling from his lips.
The head followed him through the hole, eyes glowing faintly.
"Now tell me, Rihan. Who am I? Tell me my name."
"Your name… Veer Pratap Singh,"
Rihan coughed out, blood flecking his chin.
"And… what else is special about me?"
Veer asked, his tone calm but cutting.
Rihan gasped, coughing violently.
"You are the world's number one hero,"
he managed to say.
Veer knelt beside him, dabbing the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Listen, little boy,"
he murmured.
"You didn't ask for this power. But if you have it, you must make it mean something. Put your power first… not your ego."
He looked into Rihan's eyes, his voice low but firm.
"I am number one. I am the strongest. When you defeat me, then—and only then—you can shout to the world that you are the most powerful."
Rihan sank to his knees, gasping as doctors rushed in with a stretcher. They lifted him gently, carrying him away.
Veer stood still, holding the bloodstained handkerchief between his fingers. His eyes softened.
"When will you tell me who I really am to you?"
he whispered to the unconscious boy.
A faint voice brushed his ear, one that didn't belong to anyone in the room.
"This world is waiting for a hero who will wield this power."
Veer froze. His gaze turned toward the window, where distant thunder rolled across the Mumbai skyline.