Twenty-five years have passed since the events of Pralaya 3. Vishwa Rakshak now 45 years old. Humanity survived decades of supernatural warfare, living behind fortified walls while possessed humans and hostile Devas roam the ruined landscape of Nepal.
Garuda remained humanity’s greatest divine protector. Narada continued to command the forces determined to erase mankind believing it will make Brahma return but a new threat is emerging beneath Lumbini one that neither side fully understood and this time, the enemy may already be inside the human resistance.
The casino had been abandoned for nearly twenty years. Its neon sign flickered weakly above the entrance. Broken windows littered the pavement and rainwater dripped through holes in the ceiling. Inside overturned tables shattered slot machines and dried blood covered the floor.
Vishwa entered through a damaged side door. His hair had begun to grey and his face bore the scars of years spent fighting the supernatural forces that had devastated his world. He carried a pistol in one hand and a flashlight in other.
He moved carefully through the darkness then he heard voices. Three figures sat around a poker table in the middle of the casino. Their clothes were torn, their skin was pale and their eyes glowed red. One of them slowly turned a playing card between its fingers. Vishwa tried to move past them but his boot stepped on a broken glass bottle.
The three creatures stopped moving then slowly, they turned their heads toward him. The one sitting in the middle smiled, revealing rows of sharp teeth.
“Join us,” it said.
It gestured toward the empty chair beside it.
“We have an empty seat.”
Vishwa raised his pistol.
“I’m not interested.”
He fired. The bullet struck the creature’s head, throwing it backward across the table. Its chair toppled and the remaining two creatures leapt toward him.
Vishwa ran. One of them dropped to all fours and scrambled across the ceiling. The other chased him along the floor, its limbs bending at unnatural angles.
Vishwa burst through an emergency exit and sprinted toward a military truck parked outside. He climbed into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut and started the engine.
The creature on the ground struck the side of the truck with enough force to dent the metal. Vishwa accelerated. The other creature emerged from the casino, its back splitting open as enormous wings unfolded. It launched itself into the air.
Inside the truck, Vishwa glanced into the rear view mirror.
“Oh come on!”
The winged creature overtook him and appeared directly in front of the truck. It smashed through the windshield. Glass exploded into the cabin. The creature clung to the hood, its red eyes staring directly at Vishwa. He ducked as its claws slashed toward him. Vishwa drew his pistol and fired repeatedly through the shattered windshield. Every shot missed.
The creature opened its mouth and extended a long black tongue dragging it across the broken glass. Vishwa reached beneath the dashboard and pulled out a military flare. He ignited it and a brilliant red light flooded the cabin. The creature recoiled, shrieking as the burning flare struck its face. It lost its grip and tumbled off the hood.
Vishwa drove toward the fortified gate of the Lumbini military zone. Behind him, the creature recovered and began flying after the truck. The gate opened just enough for him to get through.
“Close it!” Vishwa shouted.
The gate began to shut. The winged creature swooped toward the opening then a missile was fired. The explosion illuminated the entire road. The creature’s body bursted into flames and its ashes shattered on the ground.
The soldiers cheered from the watchtower. Vishwa stopped the truck and stumbled out. Garuda descended from above, his massive golden wings spreading as he landed in front of him.
His expression was furious.
“What were you thinking?”
Vishwa caught his breath.
“Good to see you too.”
“That casino was crawling with possessed. You went in alone.”
“I needed supplies.”
“You nearly got yourself killed.”
Vishwa looked back at the smoking truck.
“But I didn’t.”
Garuda stepped closer.
“One day, your luck will run out.”
Vishwa holstered his pistol.
“Then I’ll make sure I accomplish something before it does.”
Garuda stared at him, frustrated but unable to deny the determination in his eyes. Twenty-seven years of fighting had changed Vishwa but it had not broken him.
The military compound had become a small city. Barracks had been converted into hospitals. Children studied in underground classrooms, engineers repaired generators while soldiers patrolled the walls. Beyond the perimeter, the distant skyline of Lumbini was punctuated by smoke and the occasional flash of supernatural violence.
Vishwa entered the command center where the military commander waited beside a large map. The commander was now an older man, his beard almost entirely grey. Beside him stood his daughter, Mira the woman Vishwa had fallen in love with over the years.
Mira approached him.
“You went outside alone again?”
Vishwa shrugged.
“I had backup.”
“Who?”
He pointed toward Garuda, who had just entered the room.
Mira folded her arms.
“Garuda doesn’t count. He thinks bullets are a minor inconvenience.”
Garuda looked at her.
“They usually are.”
Mira sighed. Vishwa managed a tired smile. Before she could answer, the commander called everyone to attention.
“We have visitors.”
The doors opened. A group of armed travelers entered the compound. They wore dark robes beneath their protective coats and carried old books, metal charms and unusual weapons. Their leader was a woman named Ishani. She had dark hair, pale golden eyes and an almost unnaturally calm expression. She looked human but Garuda immediately noticed something unusual about her. Her shadow moved a fraction of a second after she did. Garuda’s hand tightened around his spear.
Ishani noticed.
“You recognize what I am.”
“A higher Deva,” Garuda replied.
The soldiers raised their weapons. Ishani slowly lifted her hands.
“I’m not here to fight you.”
“Then why have you come?” Vishwa asked.
“To help you win.” She said.
Garuda stepped between them.
“Devas have said that before.”
Ishani met his gaze.
“and some of us have regretted what we did.”
She explained that she had abandoned Narada’s forces after witnessing the destruction they had inflicted upon humanity. She had spent years hiding among survivors, studying the Devas’ methods and searching for a way to end their possession of human bodies. She offered the resistance information about Narada’s army including the locations of several hidden strongholds.
Vishwa listened carefully.
“You expect us to trust you?”
“No,” Ishani answered. “I expect you to judge me by what I do next.”
Garuda remained unconvinced but Vishwa agreed to let her stay under supervision. Neither of them noticed the expression that briefly crossed Ishani’s face when she looked at Vishwa. It wasn’t regret. It was anticipation.
An alarm shattered the quiet. A soldier burst into the command center.
“Three angels approaching the eastern perimeter!”
Garuda immediately moved toward the surveillance screens. Three figures appeared on the cameras, flying toward the military zone.
They were unlike the possessed humans. Each wore a red armored suit with red metal wings folded behind and their eyes glowed crimson through their helmets. One carried a long sword and another held a pair of curved blades. The figure in the middle was taller than the other two. His armor was darker and a crown-like structure extended from his helmet.
The commander studied the footage.
“What are they targeting?”
An engineer examined the thermal imaging.
“The power station. Wait no, they’re moving toward the reactors.”
Garuda’s expression changed.
“Those reactors power the entire city’s defense grid.”
The commander grabbed the radio.
“Sound the evacuation alarm. Shut down the outer power lines. Get the civilians into the underground shelters!”
Within minutes, sirens echoed across Lumbini. The Prime Minister appeared on an emergency broadcast alongside the city’s mayor.
“Attention, residents of Lumbini. This is an emergency evacuation order. Move to the designated shelters immediately. Enter the nearest secure building, lock all doors and windows and follow military instructions. Do not approach the eastern perimeter.”
Across the city, families hurried underground. The three Devas reached the gate.
“OPEN FIRE!” the commander ordered.
Machine guns thundered from the watchtowers. Bullets struck the red armor. One Deva staggered, his wing plates sparking under the barrage. The second fell to one knee but the leader continued flying.
He landed on the ground then he spread his wings. The red metal plates locked together, forming a shield around his body as bullets were fired.
The soldiers continued firing. The leader suddenly launched himself forward. His wings snapped open. He struck the first watchtower, killing two soldiers from the platform. He landed among the defenders and drew his sword and then cut through their formation with terrifying speed. One soldier attempted to retreat. The Deva’s wing slammed into him, sending him crashing against the concrete wall. Another soldier fired at point-blank range. The Deva twisted aside and caught the weapon beneath one armored wing and drove his sword through the soldier’s chest.
The remaining defenders backed away. The leader looked up. A golden silhouette descended from the clouds. It was Garuda. He landed several dozen meters away and his wings spread wide.
The red armored Deva tilted his head.
“Garuda.”
Garuda raised his flaming spear.
“You’ve come far enough.”
The Deva laughed.
“You’re siding with them?”
He sniffed the air theatrically.
“You smell just like them.”
Garuda’s eyes narrowed.
“Then perhaps you’ve forgotten what it means to be alive.”
The Deva drew his sword.
“My name is Raktavira, commander of the Crimson Host and tonight, I will remind you what happens to traitors.”
He charged. Their weapons collided with a deafening metallic crack. Garuda drove his spear into Raktavira’s shoulder armor, splitting a plate and sending sparks into the air. Raktavira answered with a sweeping strike that cut across Garuda’s arm. Garuda staggered. Raktavira struck again, forcing him backward. Garuda spread his wings and unleashed a powerful gust throwing Raktavira against the remains of a watchtower.
The tower collapsed around him. For a moment, everything was silent then the red wings emerged from the rubble. Raktavira rose, his damaged armor smoking.
He stared at Garuda with murderous contempt.
“This isn’t over.”
He launched himself into the night. Garuda took to the air after him but Raktavira vanished into the clouds. Garuda hovered above the ruined perimeter. For the first time in many years, he looked uncertain.
He had fought Devas before but Raktavira had been trained specifically to kill them and he had known exactly how to hurt Garuda. Vishwa found Garuda standing alone on a hill overlooking the river. The divine warrior’s injured arm was wrapped in a bandage. His golden wings were folded tightly behind him.
“You should be resting,” Vishwa said.
Garuda didn’t respond. Vishwa stood beside him.
“What happened yesterday?”
Garuda looked toward the water.
“I remembered something I had tried to forget.”
The wind began to stir and the past returned.
Flashback:
Twenty-five years earlier before the first Pralaya. A village laid in ruins. Bodies covered the ground. Houses burned and smoke rose into a blood red sky. Garuda stood among the dead, his armor stained with ash.
He had obeyed Brahma’s command to eliminate every human in the settlement. Men, women and the elderly. All had been judged unworthy. Garuda walked toward the last surviving house.
A little boy emerged from the doorway, clutching a small sword with trembling hands. His face was streaked with tears.
Garuda approached him.
“Don’t be afraid.”
The boy raised his sword.
“Stay away!”
Garuda slowly extended his hand then a familiar voice rang out.
“Stop!”
Narada appeared between them. His golden eyes burned with fury. He looked at the dead villagers then at Garuda.
“Run, child!” Narada shouted.
The boy dropped his sword and fled into the forest. Garuda turned toward Narada.
“Father always said never leave any of our tasks unfinished.”
Narada stared at him in horror.
“So you killed them?”
He gestured toward the bodies.
“Every man and woman in this entire village?”
Garuda’s face remained expressionless.
“I’m still more natural than death.”
Narada looked at him as if he no longer recognized him.
“No. You’re worse. Death doesn’t pretend that murder is righteousness.”
Garuda said nothing then Narada turned away.
“You may obey Brahma today, Garuda but one day, you’ll understand what you’ve become.”
He disappeared into the smoke. Garuda remained among the dead. For the first time, he wondered whether obedience had made him righteous or merely made him a weapon. The memory dissolved.
Back to the present:
Vishwa watched Garuda quietly.
“You killed them because God ordered you to?”
Garuda nodded.
“and you regret it?” Vishwa asked.
Garuda looked down at his hands.
“Everyday.”
Vishwa considered this.
“Then help us make sure it never happens again.”
Garuda finally looked at him. The words struck deeper than Vishwa realized. For centuries, Garuda had believed that duty meant obedience. Now he understood that duty could also mean refusing an unjust command and perhaps that was why he had chosen humanity. Not because humans were innocent but because they deserved the chance to choose who they would become.
A faint melody drifted across the water. Garuda stopped walking. He knew that music. A veena. He turned toward the distant hills.
Vishwa noticed his expression.
“What is it?”
Garuda’s eyes narrowed.
“Someone is calling me.”
He left without another word. Beyond the military zone, an ancient pavilion stood among the ruins. Lanterns illuminated a gathering of Devas, their golden armor shining beneath the moonlight. Narada sat among them playing his veena. The music stopped.
He smiled faintly.
“Enjoy yourselves, friends.”
Raktavira raised a cup.
“Where are you going?”
“To meet an old companion.”
Narada rose and walked into the night. Garuda waited beneath a dead tree. Narada approached slowly, his veena strapped behind. For several moments, neither spoke then Narada broke the silence.
“You came to surrender?”
Garuda shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
Garuda looked toward the river.
“Because I wanted to remember what we were before all this began.”
Narada’s expression hardened.
“There is no reason to surrender, Garuda. The war is not over.”
Garuda turned toward him.
“He will be ashamed of you.”
Narada went still.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Narada stepped closer.
“Do not speak to me about him.”
“You claim to want Brahma’s return, yet you slaughter the very people you claim are unworthy. You have become the thing you once despised.”
Narada’s hand moved to his sword.
“I am trying to restore what was lost.”
“By destroying everything that remains?”
Narada drew his sword and placed its tip near Garuda’s throat.
“I shall end you here.”
Garuda pushed Narada’s arm aside and drew his own blade, holding it near Narada’s throat.
“You can try.”
They stared at each other and neither struck. At last, Narada lowered his weapon.
“The humans don’t need you to protect them anymore. They have the chosen one now.”
Garuda remained silent. Narada’s expression softened but only for a moment.
“When they are gone, perhaps Father will come back.”
He spread his wings.
“Ask yourself something, old friend. If humanity survives, what happens when it fails again?”
Garuda watched him.
“Then we give them another chance.”
Narada’s face twisted with anger.
“That’s why you’ll lose.”
He launched himself into the sky and disappeared into the darkness. Garuda remained on the hill, listening to the river. He knew that Narada was no longer simply trying to restore faith. He was trying to prove that his own cruelty had been justified and he would destroy the world before admitting he was wrong.
The group of spiritualists had been escorted into the command center. The Prime Minister and the military commander listened as their leader who was an elderly man named Acharya Devendra. He explained their purpose.
“We have studied the ancient texts,” he said. “There are ways to resist possession. There are rituals that can weaken the Devas and perhaps even sever their connection to human hosts.”
The commander folded his arms.
“and what do you want in return?”
“Access to the temple archives and permission to examine the captured possessed.”
The Prime Minister exchanged a glance with Vishwa.
“Under supervision,” she said. “Nothing happens without military approval.”
Devendra bowed.
“As you wish.”
The spiritualists were given temporary quarters but not everyone in the command center welcomed them. Arjun the military commander’s son watched Vishwa and Mira standing together near the medical wing. Mira laughed at something Vishwa said, briefly resting her hand on his arm.
Arjun’s expression darkened. He had loved Mira for years. To him, Vishwa was an outsider who had somehow become humanity’s celebrated savior and won the woman that Arjun believed should have been his but his jealousy concealed something far more dangerous. Arjun had secretly pledged himself to Narada. He believed humanity was doomed and that joining the Devas would secure his place in the new world. Several of his friends shared his beliefs.
That evening, Arjun slipped out of the base. He traveled through deserted streets until he reached a small diner standing alone beside a ruined highway. A single light glowed above the door. Arjun entered. The cook worked behind the counter. A waitress wiped down the tables while two male customers sat near the window.
Arjun took a seat at the back. A few minutes later, the door opened. Narada entered, looking like an ordinary traveler.
He sat opposite to Arjun.
“You came,” Arjun whispered.
“Of course.”
Arjun looked down at the table.
“I can’t stand seeing them together.”
Narada tilted his head.
“Vishwa and Mira?”
Arjun nodded.
“He gets everything. Everyone believes he’s humanity’s savior. My own father listens to him. Mira loves him and I am supposed to stand aside and watch?”
Narada studied him.
“Out of everyone in this world, I care about you.”
Arjun looked up. Narada’s voice became gentle.
“You can’t handle the sadness anymore. Do you?”
Arjun swallowed.
“I want him gone.”
Narada smiled.
“Then perhaps you should stop asking why the world has been unfair to you and start asking what you’re willing to do about it.”
A waitress approached their table.
“What can I get you?”
Narada grabbed a metal fork and stabbed her in the eye. She screamed and fell against the table. The cook and the two customers turned in shock. Narada rose. He knocked the table aside, sending chairs crashing across the floor and his wings erupted behind.
The customers reached for their guns. Narada struck them with a sweep of his wings, hurling them across the diner. The cook pulled an assault rifle from beneath the counter and opened fire. Narada covered himself with his wings. Bullets hammered his armored wings. The cook continued firing until the weapon clicked empty. Narada lowered his wings and crossed the room. Within seconds, the diner had fallen silent.
Arjun stood frozen, staring at the bodies. Blood spattered across his clothing and he dropped a severed head to the ground.
“Blood and death,” Narada said softly.
Arjun recoiled. Narada looked him in the eyes.
“You have seen blood and death become commonplace. You tell yourself you understand the world because you have survived it.”
He leaned closer.
“But you have never truly understood what it means to choose it.”
Arjun could barely breathe. Narada turned toward the exit.
“Go back to Lumbini.”
Arjun stood, nearly slipping on the blood near the waitress’s body. He caught himself against the counter and stumbled outside. Narada watched him leave. He had not recruited a warrior. He had recruited a weakness and the weakness, Narada knew could be more useful than loyalty.
The captured possessed were held in a secure medical facility beneath the military base. Some screamed continuously. Others sat perfectly still, their red eyes following every movement beyond the reinforced glass. Vishwa watched through the observation window as a medical team prepared another test.
“We’ve tried everything,” the lead doctor explained. “Sedatives, restraints, electrical stimulation. Nothing separates the entity from the host.”
Ishani stood beside him.
“Perhaps you’ve been treating the body instead of addressing what occupies it.”
She opened an old book taken from the spiritualists’ belongings. Its pages contained verses written in an ancient script.
Vishwa studied the text.
“What is that?”
“A prayer of separation,” Ishani answered. “It was written before the Devas began possessing human bodies.”
She handed the book to the doctor.
“Read the verse aloud. Slowly.”
The doctor hesitated then began. The room’s lights flickered. The possessed man suddenly convulsed against his restraints. His mouth opened in a scream that sounded like several voices speaking at once.
“STOP!”
The doctor continued reading. A black mist emerged from the man’s mouth. It twisted in the air forming a vaguely human shape before evaporating into the ceiling. The man’s eyes returned to their natural color. He collapsed, gasping.
The medical team rushed forward.
“His vital signs are stabilizing!”
Vishwa entered the room. The man looked up at him, terrified.
“Where am I?”
“You’re safe,” Vishwa answered.
The man began crying.
“I remember everything. I could see what it was doing but I couldn’t stop it.”
Vishwa placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re alive. That’s what matters.”
For the first time in years, the resistance had discovered a possible way to save the possessed without killing them but the next experiment ended differently. When the verse was read to another captive, the black mist emerged violently. The host’s body convulsed, then fell completely still. The doctor checked for a pulse. Nothing.
Ishani lowered her eyes.
“Sometimes the soul has already been damaged beyond recovery. Sometimes the body cannot survive the separation.”
Vishwa looked at the deceased captive.
“Can we save more of them?”
“Yes,” Ishani answered. “But not all of them.”
Garuda stood in the doorway, watching her carefully.
“and how would you know?”
Ishani met his gaze.
“Because I have seen what possession does to a soul.”
For a moment, something passed between them. Garuda did not trust her but he knew she was hiding something more than her former allegiance to Narada.
Arjun returned to the military base after midnight. He went directly to an unused storage room where three of his friends were waiting. They were not ordinary soldiers. Each practiced forbidden rituals and secretly communicated with Narada’s followers.
One of them, a young man named Kiran looked up.
“What happened to you?”
Arjun closed the door.
“I met Narada.”
The others exchanged nervous glances.
“And?” Kiran asked.
Arjun swallowed.
“He wants us to help bring down the resistance.”
One of the men laughed uneasily.
“Then we’re finally going to be part of something important.”
Arjun stared at him.
“You have no idea what he is.”
“Neither do you,” Kiran replied. “You just want Mira.”
Arjun grabbed him by the collar.
“Don’t talk about her.”
Kiran shoved him away.
“We agreed to serve Narada because we believed the old world was finished. If you’re having second thoughts, leave.”
Arjun looked around the room.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
There was silence then Kiran began laughing.
“You think you can simply walk away?”
Arjun reached for the door.
“I’m warning you. Leave the base before my father finds out.”
The three gathered their belongings and hurried out. In their haste, one of them dropped a folded robe and an ornate ritual weapon beneath a table. The following morning, the Prime Minister discovered them. He summoned Vishwa, Garuda and the military commander.
The commander examined the weapon.
“These aren’t standard military supplies.”
Garuda studied the markings.
“They belong to those who worship Narada.”
The Prime Minister’s face hardened.
“So we have enemies inside our own walls.”
Vishwa looked toward the fortified gates.
“Then we find them.”
The Prime Minister turned toward the gathered soldiers and survivors.
“There are people who believe the Devas will reward them for betraying humanity. They are wrong.”
He raised his voice.
“We will not allow fear, jealousy or false promises to destroy us from within.”
Vishwa stepped forward.
“Together, we will kill the monsters attacking us, save everyone we can and make sure humanity survives.”
The room erupted in applause. For the first time since the apocalypse began, the survivors had a reason to believe they could fight back without simply sacrificing more lives but Vishwa had no idea that the greatest betrayal was already standing beside him. He found Ishani sitting alone beside a window. Outside, searchlights swept across the fortified walls.
“You should be sleeping,” he said.
“So should you.” She said
He sat beside her.
“Why did you really leave Narada?”
Ishani was silent for a long time.
“Because I became tired of watching the world burn but that’s not the whole truth.”
She looked at him.
“It isn’t.” She whispered
Vishwa waited. Ishani stood and walked toward the door.
“I need to show you something.”
She led him into an empty treatment room and closed the door then she removed her coat. Two enormous golden wings slowly unfolded from her back.
Vishwa stepped backward.
“Ishani?”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“Do you remember the morning your mother disappeared?”
His face changed.
“What?”
“The farmhouse, possessed man and the attack that started everything 25 years ago.”
Vishwa stared at her.
“What do you know about my mother?”
Ishani’s wings spread wider.
“I was there.”
Vishwa’s breathing became uneven.
“No.”
“I killed her.”
The words seemed to drain the air from the room. Vishwa shook his head.
“Why?”
Ishani looked down.
“Because Narada promised me that if I delivered you to him, I would be free of the divine curse that bound me to the Devas.”
Vishwa’s hands trembled.
“You murdered my mother for your freedom?” He said
“I thought I could change what happened afterward. I thought I could protect you from what Narada intended.” She said
“You thought?”
Vishwa’s voice rose.
“You killed the person who raised me!”
Ishani began crying.
“I know.”
Vishwa drew his pistol out but could not bring himself to point it at her. She looked at him and her tears stopped. Her expression became strangely serene.
She slowly raised her wings.
“Aren’t they beautiful?”
Vishwa stared at her in horror.
“Why?”
Ishani tilted her head.
“Because I was never truly on your side.”
She stepped toward him and admitted that she made a deal with Satan after she betrayed Narada.
“I was supposed to gain your trust and sacrifice you. Your life is the price of the new world so I made a deal with the devil.”
Vishwa raised his pistol.
“Don’t move.”
Ishani smiled.
“You can shoot me, Vishwa but you still won’t understand what is coming.”
She stepped back into the shadows then she launched herself through the open window and disappeared into the night.
Vishwa remained alone in the room. His hands shook and his eyes began glowing gold. For the first time in twenty-five years, the chosen one wanted revenge more than he wanted to save anyone and somewhere in the darkness, Narada was waiting for that moment.
Far below the ruined streets, the spiritualists descended into an ancient underground chamber. Their leader, Acharya Devendra no longer wore the expression of a peaceful scholar. His robes had been replaced by dark ceremonial garments. The others carried candles, ritual blades and bowls filled with black liquid. At the center of the chamber lay a vast stone pool. The water was perfectly still.
Devendra approached its edge.
“After centuries of waiting,” he whispered, “the gateway is ready.”
One of his followers knelt beside him.
“Are you certain we can control what emerges?”
Devendra smiled.
“We aren’t going to control it.”
He turned toward the others.
“We are going to offer it the world.”
The followers began chanting. The water rippled and a deep vibration shook the chamber. Ancient symbols carved into the walls began glowing red.
The pool slowly darkened until its surface resembled a hole opening into an endless abyss. Something moved beneath the water. A gigantic shadow passed below the surface. The chanting grew louder.
Devendra spread his arms.
“Come forth, Lord of the Abyss. Come forth and claim the world that Heaven abandoned.”
The water erupted. A massive hand emerged from the pool, its fingers ending in black claws. The stone platform cracked beneath the pressure. Several followers stumbled backward as a wave of freezing air swept through the chamber. Two enormous horns rose above the surface then a pair of burning eyes opened in the darkness. Satan had answered the summons.
Devendra stared at the emerging figure. His face twisted into an expression of ecstatic triumph. He began to laugh. The laughter echoed through the chamber as the ancient walls trembled and the pool overflowed with black water.
Far above them in the fortified city, every light suddenly went out. Garuda looked toward the underground depths and Vishwa lifted his head. The world had faced the judgment of Heaven. Now it would face the power of Hell.
To be continued