Chapter 5:
Since that day six months ago — the day when Aksh's hair turned red and his eyes began to glow with something terrifying — the household had changed.
Rajit, once a tyrant who wielded his fists like divine law, now walked with caution. He still drank. He still muttered venom. But he hadn't raised a hand to Aksh since that night. He didn't dare.
But Reena... she still bore the bruises. Only now, they were hidden deeper — given when Aksh wasn't around, inflicted in the silence of Aksh's absence. Rajit had learned to be a coward in timing, if not in spirit.
In the dimly lit room, the smell of turmeric and old incense lingered. Reena sat on the woven mat, her back straight but eyes distant, like she was staring into a memory only she could see.
Aksh, now taller and quieter than before, walked over. His presence didn't feel like that of a child. It felt... heavier, as if gravity bowed slightly where he stood.
He knelt down beside her.
"Are you alright, mother?" he asked softly, his voice no longer carrying the naïve tremble it once did.
Reena blinked and turned to him. Her smile was gentle, warm, and tragically rehearsed — the kind only broken mothers knew how to perfect.
"I am fine, son. You don't have to worry, son," she said, reaching to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.
Aksh was about to say something, but there was a knock on the door.
A firm one.
He stood up, his eyes narrowing instinctively. Reena, startled from her distant thoughts, turned to watch. Visitors were rare — especially unannounced ones.
Aksh opened the wooden door with a creak.
Three figures stood outside, illuminated by the dying orange hue of dusk.
Two of them, standing slightly behind, were dressed in identical black coats and matching trousers. Their eyes were hidden behind polished black shades. Their expressions were blank, professional — too still to be natural.
But the man in front was different.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and sun-kissed, with olive green hair that was tied lazily at the back. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt, half pants, and… slippers. Of all things, slippers.
His skin glowed with health. His arms looked like they could bend steel. He has a scar below his right eye. And his clothes — pristine, without a single wrinkle or speck of dust. No one in the village dressed like this. No one even looked like this.
He smiled like they were old friends.
"Aren't you gonna invite me in?" he said, voice smooth, playful, like a lion humming a lullaby.
Aksh didn't respond immediately. His instincts prickled. The man's aura wasn't just strange — it felt… unnatural. Controlled. Caged. But dangerous.
"Who are you?" Aksh asked, his tone calm, but his fingers slightly twitching at his side.
The green-haired man laughed.
"You're cautious. That's good. But a little rude too. I came all this way, through mud and silence, just to see you, Aksh."
Aksh blinked. He knew my name?
The man tilted his head. "Still no invite?"
Behind him, the two black-suited men didn't flinch. Not even a breath. They might as well have been statues.
"What do you want?" Aksh asked, voice firmer now
Dhruva grinned, tilting his head slightly.
"You're a straightforward guy, huh? I like that," he said, folding his arms casually. "So let me be straightforward too."
He paused just enough to draw silence around him. The grin never left his face.
"The name's Dhruva. We came here to evaluate whether you've awakened your Tejas."
There wasn't a single person in Sapta Sindhu who hadn't heard of Dhruva — the Killer Machine.
A man in his mid-twenties. A prodigy.
At just twenty-five, he had already achieved Five Stars in Tejas — a feat so rare that even seasoned warriors twice his age couldn't dream of matching it.
In every war waged against the Nihir Army, Dhruva wasn't just present — he was the storm itself. A walking calamity, carving through battlefields like a blade of divine will. Soldiers sang of him. Children mimicked him. His name alone could rally armies… or silence nations.
And now he stood barefoot on the dusty threshold of Aksh's broken home, wearing half-pants, slippers, and a lopsided grin.
But Aksh wasn't moved.
His face remained blank — no awe, no excitement, no flicker of recognition beyond what was required. Like he was talking to just another man.
"And what do I get," Aksh asked, his voice even, "by letting you evaluate me?"
A hush fell over the gathered villagers. Eyes widened. Mouths parted. Who dared speak to Dhruva like that?
But Dhruva… laughed.
A deep, unrestrained laugh that echoed off the rusted tin roofs and cracked walls.
"Hahaha! This—this is the first time someone didn't start kissing my ass the moment they heard my name!" he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "They usually drop to one knee, call me 'sir', or ask for my autograph."
He leaned in, still grinning.
"I like you even more now."
He straightened and stretched, cracking his neck.
"You want to know what you get? Fine. If you're really awakened… I'll take you and your family to Trigarta."
Another wave of gasps. Trigarta. The legendary citadel. The capital of power. The place where gods once walked and heroes were forged.
There was nothing to lose for Aksh.
No future, no promises — only ashes behind and uncertainty ahead.
So he nodded once.
Wordlessly, he stepped aside and let them in.
Inside the house, the air felt heavier. The scent of old incense clung to the walls like memories that refused to fade. Reena was already standing, her expression tense, and behind her, little Tejasvi peeked out from the folds of her mother's saree, clutching them tightly with both hands. Her wide, curious eyes flicked between the strangers and her brother.
Dhruva didn't waste a moment.
"Let's begin," he said, his voice suddenly all business.
He stepped forward, gripped the hem of Aksh's ragged t-shirt, and lifted it just enough to reveal the lower part of his abdomen.
Then, placing a hand flat against Aksh's stomach, Dhruva closed his eyes.
A soft green light began to radiate from his palm — warm, focused, alive. It spread across Aksh's torso like a slow-moving flame, illuminating the boy's thin frame with a surreal glow.
Reena's eyes widened. Alarmed, she instinctively took a step forward.
"Wait—what are you doing to him?!"
But before she could reach them, the two men in black moved like shadows — silently, quickly. One gently stepped between her and Dhruva. The other held up a calming hand.
"Don't worry, ma'am," he said in a voice that was oddly gentle for someone who looked like a statue in a suit. "We're not here to hurt your son. This is only an evaluation. Nothing more."
Reena froze in place, torn between fear and trust, her trembling hand still halfway raised.
Aksh, on the other hand, stood motionless — eyes staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, as if the glow washing over him wasn't even real.
For the first time in years, a fragile thought bloomed in Reena's mind — one that felt almost sinful in its hope.
What if… what if he truly has awakened his Tejas?
Maybe… just maybe, they could finally leave this hell.
Maybe Tejasvi would be able to laugh and play like the other children her age — to have toys instead of scars, lullabies instead of screams.
Maybe Aksh, her broken boy who had forgotten how to cry, could find pieces of his childhood again. Maybe the weight in his eyes would lift if he was surrounded by something better — something that didn't bleed suffering with every breath.
And maybe — just maybe — she wouldn't have to endure the pain of Rajit's fists anymore.
Maybe she could finally… breathe.
It was the first time Reena had ever allowed herself a selfish wish — one where she was included in the salvation, not just her children.
Dhruva slowly pulled his hand away.
The green aura flickered and vanished.
His brows furrowed as he looked at Aksh, then turned his gaze toward Reena.
"Did something happen on the day of Aksh's transformation?" he asked, his tone no longer playful — just flat and clinical.
Reena, hesitant, recalled the memory. "At first… his eyes turned red. Then his hair. But after that, he suddenly collapsed. He was unconscious for hours."
Dhruva clicked his tongue and shook his head slightly. Disappointment etched itself across his face.
"Now I understand," he said quietly. "Aksh did awaken his Tejas. But… his body wasn't strong enough. The strain must have shattered his core during the awakening."
He let out a sigh — not one of sorrow, but frustration.
"Aksh will never be able to use Tejas again."
The words hit like a silent explosion. Reena stood frozen. The hope she had dared to imagine — the soft, selfish wish she had let grow in her heart — cracked like glass under a hammer. Her eyes became teary, but she controlled herself, as she couldn't make Aksh feel guilty. She thought that it might be the gods punishing her because of the selfish desire that had come to her mind.
Dhruva stood up and stepped toward the door. "We just wasted our time here," he muttered, already halfway out.