As Dhruv stepped through the swirling portal, the brilliant colors of Vaikuntha faded away, replaced by a heavy darkness that seemed to pull at his very soul. He felt an odd weightlessness during the transition, as if he were suspended between two worlds, and when he finally touched solid ground, the shift was so abrupt that he stumbled, trying to regain his balance.
The world he found himself in was vastly different from Vaikuntha—this was the underworld, the domain of Yama, the Hindu god of death. The sky above him was an unsettling mix of deep crimson and inky black, swirling with thick, menacing clouds that moved as if alive. There was no sun, yet an eerie red light illuminated the land, casting long, distorted shadows over the rocky terrain. The atmosphere felt thick, almost suffocating, and it carried a strange scent—like burning incense mixed with the unmistakable scent of damp earth, with a hint of something metallic.
Dhruv looked around, his eyes wide with awe and trepidation. Towering stone pillars rose from the ground, covered in intricate carvings of beasts and mythical scenes. These pillars seemed to be arranged in some deliberate pattern, forming a maze of sorts that stretched as far as Dhruv could see. Their surfaces were etched with images of the endless cycle of life and death—souls being born, living, dying, and being judged. Despite the dark, foreboding nature of the place, there was an undeniable artistry and beauty in the way each scene was carved.
A wide river cut through the landscape, its dark waters shimmering under the red glow of the sky. The river seemed impossibly still, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the crimson of the sky like a vast, endless mirror. As Dhruv peered at the river, he could see shadowy figures on the far bank—lost souls in a silent procession, led by mysterious beings that looked like moving silhouettes, their forms shifting and flickering like candlelight in the wind.
There was no sound here, not even the distant murmur of the souls he could see. The silence was absolute, almost oppressive, broken only by the soft rustle of the air and the occasional distant echo that seemed to come from nowhere. Despite the stillness, Dhruv felt as though the entire underworld was alive, watching him, judging him silently as he stood there.
His gaze moved upward, and he noticed enormous archways carved into the rocky cliffs that loomed on the horizon. The archways seemed to lead into deep caverns, their entrances dark and foreboding, with faint glows emanating from within, suggesting fires or something else burning inside. Tall, skeletal trees dotted the landscape—trees without leaves, their branches twisted and gnarled like ancient hands reaching for the sky.
Dhruv's gaze then fell upon a series of stone paths crisscrossing the land, each one leading deeper into the underworld. The paths were made of dark, polished stone, reflecting the strange crimson light of the sky. He could see faint figures moving along these paths—shadowy outlines that seemed to flicker and fade as they walked, as though they were more ghost than substance.
Suddenly, a chilling breeze swept through the underworld, sending shivers down Dhruv's spine. He clutched the white feather given to him by the mysterious man, holding it close as he took a cautious step forward. Though everything about this place screamed of death, decay, and judgment, there was something oddly serene about it, an acceptance of an eternal cycle.
As Dhruv moved closer to the riverbank, he noticed the faint glow of lamps—tiny flames flickering atop stone pedestals. The lamps lined the edge of the river, their light casting dancing shadows across the dark water, giving the river an almost hypnotic quality. He could not help but feel drawn to it, as if the river itself was calling out to him, whispering secrets that only those who dared to listen could understand.
Above all, Dhruv felt a weight in the air—a sense of judgment, of inevitability. The underworld was a place where souls came to be judged, where there was no hiding from one's deeds. It was a place of absolute truth, and as Dhruv looked out over the vast, unsettling landscape, he understood that whatever lay ahead for him, it would require him to confront the deepest parts of his soul.
Taking a deep breath, Dhruv began to walk along the stone path that stretched before him, his eyes fixed ahead. There was a long journey waiting for him in this strange, otherworldly place, and whatever it took, he would face it head-on. The underworld loomed around him, vast and ancient, as he ventured deeper into its mysterious embrace, ready to meet Yama, the god of death, and to find out what fate awaited him.
Dhruv walked along the winding stone paths of the underworld, his eyes searching the surroundings for any sign of life. The silence was heavy, almost oppressive, and every now and then, he would pause to listen, hoping to catch a faint sound that might lead him to someone. But all he heard was the rustling of the breeze through the skeletal trees and the gentle lapping of the distant river.
The landscape seemed endless—twisted trees and stone pathways stretching on with no clear direction. Dhruv's gaze moved constantly, scanning the horizon for a figure or movement, someone he could ask for guidance. His footsteps echoed softly on the ground, and he found himself growing more disoriented with every step. It felt as if he were walking in circles, passing the same stone pillars and shadowy paths again and again.
Despite the eerie glow of the underworld, everything around him seemed devoid of life. The emptiness was overwhelming, and Dhruv's hope of finding someone began to wane. He could see no trace of any being, no sign of an inhabitant of this strange realm, and a feeling of isolation began to settle over him.
He continued walking, his eyes sharp, alert for any movement. The white feather in his hand felt fragile and insignificant, and he wondered if it would ever lead him to someone who could help. Though he remained silent, his mind was filled with questions—where was Yama? How would he find him in this vast, mysterious place?
As he walked, Dhruv's determination never faltered. He knew he had to find someone—anyone—who could guide him.
Dhruv's eyes lit up as he spotted a figure in the distance—a man with horns standing there, seemingly unaware of Dhruv's presence. Without a moment's hesitation, Dhruv sprinted towards the man, a smile on his face. Finally, someone he could ask for directions!
As Dhruv reached him, he called out, slightly out of breath, "Heyyy bro! Do you know where I can find Yamaraj's house or... office or something? I kinda got lost."
The man had a scaly red body and wild, tangled hair that resembled a nest of vines. His large, bulging yellow eyes sparkled with mischief, and his wide mouth, filled with uneven teeth, often broke into a goofy grin. He had broad, flat features and oversized bat-like ears that added to his eccentric appearance.
The man with horns just stared at Dhruv for a moment his expression blank. There was an awkward silence as if time itself had come to a halt. Dhruv began to wonder if he had said something weird. Maybe he should have gone with "sir" instead of "bro"?
Suddenly, the man's eyes widened in absolute horror. He glanced at Dhruv, then at the white feather in his hand. His face turned pale, and he whispered under his breath, "Oh no... Ohhhh no... F-fuck, he's here...!"
Before Dhruv could react or even ask what the problem was, the horned man turned and took off like a bolt of lightning, sprinting away from him at full speed. Dhruv stood there, completely bewildered, watching the guy running as if his life depended on it.
"Wait, what? Hey, bro, where are you going?!" Dhruv shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "I just need directions, man! I'm not the tax collector or anything!"
But the horned man didn't stop, didn't even look back. He was zig-zagging through the landscape, yelling, "Nope, nope, nope!" as if he wanted to put as much distance between himself and Dhruv as possible.
Dhruv scratched his head, utterly confused. "Was it something I said?" he muttered to himself. He looked at the feather in his hand, then back at the shrinking figure of the horned man, who was now just a speck in the distance.
"Well, that went well," Dhruv sighed, shaking his head. "Guess I'll just keep walking until I find someone who doesn't run for their life."
The scene cut to the horned man's point of view, and what unfolded was nothing short of a desperate sprint for survival—though it looked more like a panicked toddler running away from a stray puppy. His legs were moving so fast they practically blurred beneath him, his eyes were wide as saucers, and his mouth was open in a scream that didn't seem to end.
"Underworld is ruined! He's back! HE'S BACK FOR REVENGE!" he wailed as he ran, his horns wobbling from side to side like loose antennas on a very distressed bug.
He ran past a group of underworld creatures who stopped what they were doing to watch him in bewilderment. One demon was eating a fiery sandwich, and the sandwich fell out of his hand as the horned man zoomed by, crying and flailing his arms. "Who? Who's back?" one of them managed to ask, but the horned man was already a blur in the distance.
The horned man panted heavily, tears streaming down his face, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. "Why, oh why, does this always happen to me?! I JUST found a girl who LIKES my ugly face after 300 years!" he sobbed, tripping over a rock and stumbling forward, barely keeping his balance.
He could see her face in his mind—sweet, kind, with a little bit of fang showing when she smiled. She said she liked his horns! No one had ever said that before! And now, now, this was all ruined!
"WHY NOW?! WHY DOES THE UNIVERSE HATE ME?!" he screamed to no one in particular. He could already picture his date standing him up after hearing about this. "She's gonna hear I ran away crying like a baby! She'll think I'm a coward! WAHHHHH!"
He sniffled loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand while still sprinting like his life depended on it. "I was gonna take her to the lava falls! I even bought new pants for this! REAL PANTS, NOT JUST A LOINCLOTH!"
A group of imps watched him rush past, and one turned to the other. "Wasn't that Gorgo? The guy who finally got a date after centuries?"
The other imp nodded solemnly. "Yep. Poor guy. Looks like he's having a... meltdown."
The horned man, now officially a blubbering mess, kept running, his feet barely touching the ground. He sobbed, his cries echoing through the underworld, "I JUST WANTED TO BE HAPPY FOR ONCE! WHY, OH WHY, MUST FATE BE SO CRUEL?!"
He tripped again, this time doing a full somersault, but somehow ended up back on his feet, running even faster than before. He didn't even know where he was running to, as long as it was away from Dhruv.
"WHY COULDN'T HE JUST ASK FOR DIRECTIONS NICELY?! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YAMA IS! I WORK IN ACCOUNTING!!"
The entire underworld seemed to pause as the horned man's wails echoed far and wide, and all the demons, imps, and spirits collectively shook their heads, muttering, "Poor Gorgo... hope his date doesn't hear about this."
Gorgo's sprint had all the elegance of a headless chicken, legs flailing in all directions, with tears streaming down his face. He barely managed to dodge a few wandering spirits, who just stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind—which he was pretty sure he had, considering who he'd just seen.
"Boss, boss, boss, boss..." Gorgo muttered as he ran, every second word getting interrupted by his gasps for air. "Why does it have to be now?! Why now?! I JUST found a girl who likes me—ugly horns, warts, and all! And here he comes, bringing chaos like he's some sort of celebrity with a grudge."
Gorgo took a sharp turn, nearly slipping as he skidded across the rocky path. "No more! NO MORE! This is why I got rid of my demon detective agency! I knew I couldn't deal with these kinds of situations! I just wanted a quiet underworld life—maybe a pet cerberus puppy—and now look where I am!"
Suddenly, he slowed down for a moment, his eyes wide with panic. "Oh gods... what if Dhruv talks to her?! What if he tells her I ran like a coward? She'll never look at me again! It took me THREE HUNDRED YEARS to find someone who thinks I'm cute! I am NOT letting some mortal mess that up!"
He sped up again, legs pumping as if the entire army of the dead was after him. "This is all karma! I knew I shouldn't have stolen that sandwich from Gloppo that one time! He said I'd regret it, and here it is! Sandwich karma at its finest! CURSE YOU, GLOPPO!"
Gorgo started hyperventilating as he spotted the giant skull archway that led to Yamaraj's office. He pushed himself harder, weaving through other demons who were giving him very confused looks.
"MOVE! Official business! Boss-level business! Do you want your afterlives in jeopardy? No? THEN MOVE!" Gorgo shouted at a group of particularly clueless specters. They obediently stepped aside, one of them whispering to another, "What's got his horns in a twist?"
Gorgo finally reached Yamaraj's office—a towering structure made entirely of obsidian, with eerie green flames flickering at its gates. He slammed into the doors, completely out of breath, and tried to push them open. They didn't budge.
"Come on, not now! You stupid, oversized—open sesame or whatever!" Gorgo groaned, pushing with all his might, but the doors just sat there like they were laughing at him.
Then he saw it—a small sign hanging beside the door: PULL, DON'T PUSH.
Gorgo let out a groan of despair, grabbing the handle and yanking it open. He stumbled inside, panting heavily.
"BOSS! BOSS!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. "He's back! The nightmare himself! Dhruv is here, and he's asking for directions! He even called me 'bro!' The UNDERWORLD IS DOOMED, BOSS! DOOOOMED!"
He collapsed in front of Yamaraj's desk, arms outstretched dramatically, tears flowing once more. "Please, boss, tell me you have a plan... or at least, tell me I can get a transfer to a quieter department, like the Lost Souls Records Division."
Yamaraj, who had been peacefully sipping a cup of celestial tea, raised an eyebrow, his face utterly unimpressed. He set his cup down slowly and looked at Gorgo as if he had seen this a million times before.
"Gorgo... you left the door open."
Gorgo's eyes widened. He turned around just in time to see the very person he'd been running from—Dhruv—casually stepping through the doorway, looking as confused as ever.
"Hey, boss-man!" Dhruv said, giving a little wave. "Any chance you know where I can find Yamaraj's office? This horned dude just ran off mid-conversation."
Gorgo let out a dramatic wail, throwing his arms over his head. "SEE?! THE UNDERWORLD IS DOOMED! HE FOUND ME AGAIN! WHY, GODS, WHY?!"
He then promptly fainted, collapsing face-first onto the obsidian floor, leaving Yamaraj to rub his temples in frustration.
"Mortals," Yamaraj muttered. "And demons. Why do I even bother?"
Yamaraj's usually calm and stoic demeanor crumbled the moment his gaze fell upon the white feather in Dhruv's hand. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking in sheer terror. Without warning, the mighty god of death—feared across realms—dropped to his knees, hands trembling.
"Please! Please don't hurt me!" Yamaraj's voice quivered, the echo of pure dread bouncing off the obsidian walls. He clasped his hands together in a plea. "I swear I gave up torturing and bullying souls five years ago! I've turned over a new leaf! I even took that 'Anger Management for Deities' course! Look, I have the certificate! It's in Comic Sans and everything!" He hastily reached into a drawer and pulled out a crumpled paper with a tacky golden seal, as if this alone could be his salvation.
Dhruv blinked, utterly baffled. He glanced down at the white feather, then back at Yamaraj, who was now visibly sweating and still clutching that questionable certificate. "Uh... I'm not here to hurt you, dude. I just need directions, honestly."
Meanwhile, Gorgo, who had been dramatically unconscious a moment earlier, had come to. He opened one eye cautiously, then the other, taking in the sight of his all-powerful boss groveling on the floor. His jaw dropped so wide it looked like it might hit the ground. He slowly rose to his feet, staring at Yamaraj, absolutely flabbergasted.
"Wait… B-boss… YOU'RE SCARED?" Gorgo stuttered, his mouth still gaping. "I mean… I knew he was bad news, but… you too?!"
Yamaraj, still on his knees, shot a glare at Gorgo. "Shut up, Gorgo! You have no idea what holding this feather means!" He then looked back at Dhruv, visibly sweating more. "Please, I'll give you anything! A free express ticket to rebirth, an upgrade to a deluxe afterlife suite, even a bull that is more powerful than me! Just, please, put that feather away!"
Gorgo's eyes darted between Yamaraj and Dhruv, trying to process the situation. He whispered to himself, "Wait, wait, wait... If that feather's that dangerous, then why in the seven hells is Dhruv holding it like he's on a stroll to buy groceries? And how the heck is HE the one scaring the big boss?"
Dhruv just scratched his head. "Uh... Listen, I'm really not here for whatever you guys think. Some weirdo in a suit gave me this feather and told me to meet Yamaraj... and now you're talking about torturing souls and my bull?"
Yamaraj nodded frantically, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Yes, yes! Whatever it is you want! Just—don't unleash the wrath of—" he glanced fearfully at the feather again, "—him upon us!"
Gorgo, completely flabbergasted, whispered to himself, "Great… I finally got a girlfriend, and now the boss thinks a white feather is a weapon of mass destruction. Just my luck. Why does the underworld always get the weird ones?"
Yamaraj, still groveling, added, "Gorgo, shut your trap and get the guest some nectar or something. Preferably something strong, and make sure it's served in a platinum goblet. We can't take any chances!"
Gorgo, still in a state of shock, quickly nodded and scurried off, mumbling to himself, "I swear if I end up unemployed because of a feather..."
As Gorgo shuffled out of the room, Dhruv just stared at Yamaraj, still holding the white feather. "Seriously though... can someone tell me where I am and why everyone is acting like I brought a nuke to a dinner party?"
Yamaraj, his voice still trembling, answered, "You're in the underworld, and that feather... that feather is from... him." He swallowed hard, eyes darting around like he expected something to pop out of thin air. "But, uh, let's not focus on that. Let's focus on... getting you sorted, alright? Welcome to the underworld, honored guest. Please, just... don't make anything explode."
Dhruv, still utterly confused, raised an eyebrow. "This place is way weirder than I thought."
Gorgo, carrying a goblet bigger than his head, added under his breath, "You're telling me."
-To be continued