The car finally stopped, the snowy landscape's silence swallowing the engine's hum. Shiv felt the halt and looked at Vikram, who was already stepping out.
"You're awake, Shiv?" Vikram said, holding the back left door open. "Come on, let's head inside."
Shiv got out and stared at the house. It was a modern three-story mansion of dark wood and black stone, its sloping roof heavy with snow—a perfect Kashmiri architectural gem. Snow blanketed everything, from trees to ground. The biting cold hit him like a wall.
"It's freezing!" Shiv yelped, shivering hard.
"Get inside, or you'll catch a chill," Vikram urged.
"Yeah, coming!" Shiv hurried in.
Soon, Shiv sat comfortably by a warm fireplace.
"Feeling better now?" Vikram asked.
Shiv glanced around. "Where's your cousin Sima?"
"She went out for work," Vikram replied casually.
"Okay, but what do I do now?"
"What do you do? Simple," Vikram smirked. "I can train you."
Shiv jumped up excitedly. "Now we're talking! Let's go!"
Vikram led the way. "Where are we?" Shiv asked as they entered a room.
"This is the storeroom with old stuff," Vikram explained.
Shiv picked up a beautifully crafted old sword. "But this sword is amazing!"
"Put it down and come on," Vikram instructed.
Shiv frowned. "Why do you have that steel rod?"
"You'll see. To the training grounds!" Vikram said. Shiv followed, puzzled, out the back door.
The scene shifted to the mansion's snowy backyard. Shiv shivered in the open air.
"Why am I just in a T-shirt and pants?" he whined, freezing.
"It helps build strength," Vikram said flatly.
"But why aren't you wearing more?"
"Because I'm strong," Vikram laughed.
"Just 'cause of that? This is body-shaming!" Shiv grumbled.
Vikram laughed harder. "Start training! You'll take continuous hits from this steel rod in the cold, okay?"
Shiv's eyes widened in horror. "What?!"
Vikram attacked without warning. The steel rod's impacts echoed across the mountains.
One hour later, Shiv lay unconscious on the ground, body bruised and marked.
Suddenly, Sima rushed in. "Vikram! You won't believe this!"
Vikram looked confused. "What do you mean, Big Sis?"
"You gave him your Master's training!" Sima shouted.
"Yeah, maybe a bit," Vikram said, eyeing Shiv's battered form.
"What?!" Sima fumed. She punched Vikram square in the head. He flew off, vanishing from sight.
Sima scooped Shiv up gently. "Are you okay?" She carried him inside, wrapped him in a warm blanket by the fire, and bandaged his wounds.
"Yeah, Sima," Shiv winced. "It hurts a little, but I'll be fine."
"Good thing I came right on time," Sima said, securing a bandage. "Or you might not be alive."
"You're right," Shiv agreed.
"Rest now, I'll be back," Sima left and headed to the training spot. She picked up the steel rod.
"Vikram used this on that kid, and he's still okay?"
Vikram limped back, clutching his face.
"Forgive me, I won't do it again," he apologized.
"Fine. Do I seem cruel?" Sima asked seriously.
Vikram shook his head nervously. "No, no. Since that punch, my brain hasn't worked right."
"Forget that," Sima's tone sharpened. "Why hit him with this divine rod? You know it's not right for him."
"I know," Vikram admitted. "But I also know he's a Devil Patra. It'll hurt him more."
"You know this is a divine weapon to punish Devils?" Sima's anger flared.
"Yeah, but look—he's fine," Vikram defended.
Sima grew furious. "Were you trying to kill him? And you still haven't told me everything—spill it now!"
Vikram sighed, cornered. "Okay. Truth is, no one knows what Devil is inside Shiv."
"What? Unknown?" Sima gasped. "Didn't you check with JFL organization?"
"No," Vikram sobered. "Shiv's father defeated that Devil in his last fight, but it didn't die. It entered Shiv and tried possessing him. Aryaman didn't have enough power to destroy it fully, so he sealed it inside Shiv with his remaining strength using some technique. It's still sealed."
Sima reeled. "What?! An unknown Devil survived that fight and got sealed in Shiv?"
"Yeah," Vikram said grimly. "I know because I was there with him, but I couldn't save him."
"Okay, then why bring him here?" Sima pressed.
"You know your family helped Divine powers," Vikram said gravely.
"So what do you want?"
"Teach him to control the Devil."
Sima stared, shocked. "Impossible! No human has ever controlled a Devil—that's why they're called Devils!"
yours."
"I'll try," Sima promised.
"Thanks."
"No big deal," Sima smiled faintly.
As they approached the main house gate, a voice from behind startled Vikram.
"You're Vikram?"
Vikram spun around, sweat beading despite the cold, shock and fear gripping him.
"Grandmaster, you?"
The Grandmaster wore stylish clothes: a Kashmiri-style camel overcoat over a sleek charcoal-grey cashmere turtleneck. A black belt cinched his waist above trousers, paired with deep maroon knee-high leather tactical boots. White hair, black eyes, and a walking staff completed his sharp look.