The morning sun struggled to pierce through the thick, suffocating canopy of the Sonadanga forest. After their discovery at the Crimson Manor, the trio had barely slept. By 5:00 AM, they were already trekking through the undergrowth, their boots sinking into the damp, mossy earth. The air was heavy with the scent of wild orchids and decaying leaves—a scent that Neel remarked was the "smell of centuries-old secrets."
"Are we sure this is the right path?" Riko asked, pausing to wipe his foggy glasses. He clutched his camera bag tightly. Every snap of a twig or rustle in the bushes made him jump. "The map says 'follow the path of the sun,' but I can barely see the sky, let alone the sun."
Ayan, leading the way with a machete in hand, pointed toward a massive silhouette in the distance. "There, Riko. Look at that Banyan tree. It's exactly like the one drawn on the parchment."
The tree was a titan of nature. Its aerial roots hung down like the tangled hair of an ancient giant, reaching deep into the soil. As they approached, the forest seemed to fall silent. No birds chirped; no insects buzzed. It was as if the forest itself was holding its breath, watching them.
Neel knelt by the base of the tree, his fingers tracing the rough bark. "The map says: Twenty paces north from the heart of the mother tree." He took out a mechanical compass. "Ayan, help me measure this out."
Exactly twenty paces north brought them to the edge of a jagged cliff. Below them, a hidden waterfall cascaded into a deep, sapphire-blue pool. The sound was deafening—a relentless roar that echoed off the stone walls.
"The map points directly into the water," Neel shouted over the thunder of the falls. "There has to be a ledge behind it!"
"You've got to be kidding me," Riko groaned. "I have at least two thousand dollars worth of camera gear in this bag! If it gets wet—"
"Then keep it high and follow me!" Ayan interrupted, already beginning the treacherous climb down the slippery rocks.
One by one, they navigated the moss-covered stones. The spray from the waterfall was freezing, soaking their clothes in seconds. With one final leap, Ayan disappeared behind the curtain of white water. A few seconds later, his hand reached back out, beckoning them.
Neel and a terrified Riko stepped through the liquid wall. To their amazement, the thundering noise muffled instantly. They were standing in a wide, natural tunnel. The air here was different—colder, stagnant, and carrying a faint metallic tang.
"Look at the walls," Neel whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Using their high-intensity torches, they saw that the cave walls were not natural. They were carved with thousands of tiny, glowing symbols. "Phosphorescent algae," Neel explained, "but they've been arranged to look like star charts. King Pratapaditya didn't just hide gold here; he built a sanctuary."
As they walked deeper, the tunnel branched into three separate openings. Each looked identical—dark, narrow, and foreboding.
"The map doesn't mention a fork," Ayan noted, his brow furrowed. "Which one do we take?"
Riko checked his compass, but the needle was spinning wildly. "Great. Magnetic interference. We're officially lost."
Neel remained silent, observing the floor. He noticed a small hole in the ceiling, no larger than a coin. At that exact moment, a thin beam of midday sun pierced through the hole, hitting a reflective quartz crystal on the wall. The light bounced, illuminating the entrance of the middle tunnel.
"The sun is our guide," Neel said with a small smile. "That way."
The middle path led them to a chamber guarded by a massive stone door. Carved into the center was the fierce head of a lion, its eyes made of dull, unpolished rubies. An iron ring hung from its open mouth.
Ayan stepped forward. He felt the weight of the moment. This wasn't a game anymore. This was a direct link to a lost era of their history. He grabbed the iron ring and pulled with all his might.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, the sound of grinding stone filled the cave. Dust poured from the ceiling as the heavy door slowly slid sideways. From the darkness within, a warm, golden light began to spill out—not the harsh light of a torch, but a soft, magical glow that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.
"Whatever happens next," Ayan whispered, "we stay together."
They stepped into the light, unaware that the true test of their friendship was about to begin.