Dawn came slowly to Kurukshetra.
The sun rose as it always had, indifferent to the blood-soaked earth beneath it. Mist curled over broken chariots, shattered weapons, and the still forms of warriors whose stories would now only be told by others.
The war was over.
Not declared.
Not celebrated.
Simply finished.
---
Yudhishthira stood at the center of the field, eyes hollow, crown resting heavy in his hands.
"This victory tastes of ash," he said quietly.
Nakula and Sahadeva said nothing.
Bhima stared into the distance, jaw clenched.
Arjuna knelt, pressing his forehead to the earth. "We asked for justice," he whispered. "Why does it feel like loss?"
Krishna stepped forward.
"Because justice ends conflict," Krishna replied. "It does not erase consequence."
---
The fallen were gathered.
No distinction was made between friend and enemy.
Fathers lay beside sons.
Brothers beside rivals.
Karna's pyre was built first—by mutual consent.
Pandava and Kaurava warriors worked side by side, their movements slow, reverent.
When the fire was lit, the wind shifted gently—as if bowing.
---
Gandhari arrived at midday.
Her blindfold remained.
She walked among the bodies without guidance, fingers brushing armor, cloth, skin.
She stopped.
Knelt.
Touched Duryodhana's broken form.
Her breath caught—but she did not scream.
"So this," she said softly, "is what ambition leaves behind."
She turned her face toward the heavens.
"I curse this war," Gandhari declared. "May its victors never know peace."
Krishna inclined his head.
"So it shall be," he replied—not as punishment, but as acknowledgment.
---
Far from mortal eyes, Rudra watched.
No triumph.
No regret.
Only completion.
"The curse will hold," Anaya said.
"Yes," Rudra replied. "Because it is earned."
The system pulsed faintly.
—
[Residual Fate Anchors: Active]
[Divine Oversight: Withdrawn]
—
---
That night, Ashwatthama stood alone among the shadows.
His eyes burned with grief and fury.
"They took everything," he whispered.
No voice answered.
No hand stopped him.
The path ahead was his alone.
And it would be dark.
---
Yudhishthira was crowned at dawn the following day.
No cheers followed the ceremony.
Only silence.
The crown settled upon his head like a vow.
"I will rule," he said, "so that this never happens again."
Krishna met his gaze.
"Then rule with memory," he said. "Not pride."
---
Arjuna stood at the riverbank later, releasing Karna's final rites.
The water carried the ashes away.
"I will tell your story," Arjuna promised. "As it was."
The river flowed on.
---
Beyond time, Rudra turned his back on Kurukshetra.
His purpose here was complete.
He had not saved the world.
He had not destroyed it.
He had allowed it to finish what it began.
"That is enough," he said.
Anaya smiled. "For a god."
Rudra smiled faintly. "For a son."
The chronicle closed.
But the echo—
Would never fade.
-- chapter 68 ended --