With the court falling into shadow, I poured my final years into Indra. I didn't just teach him how to fight; I taught him how to survive the loss of everything.
"Indra," I told him as we watched the sun set over the training grounds, "a shield is meant to break. Its purpose is to take the blow so that the thing behind it remains whole. You are the thing behind the shield. One day, I will be gone, and you will be the only shield left for Ohm."
I pushed him until he hated me. I made him fight in the mud, in the rain, and in the dark. I taught him the "Void Strike"—a movement that relies on intuition rather than sight. I knew his path would be lonely. I knew the heavens would target him because he had the one thing gods fear: an unbreakable human will. When I looked into his eyes, I didn't see a prince; I saw the final ember of a dying fire. He was the only one who understood that the coming war wasn't about land—it was about the right to exist without a master.