The day passed in a blur of lectures and assignments, with Karan going through
the motions like a ghost. His thoughts kept drifting back to his dream, to the man
on the battlefield, and to the strange sensation that something was about to change.
It was as if a storm was brewing on the horizon, one that would sweep away the
mundane reality he had known all his life.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Karan packed his bag and
made his way out of the classroom. Neha caught up with him, as she often did, and
they walked together in companionable silence.
"Do you want to come over to my place and study?" she offered. "We can go over the
notes from today."Karan hesitated. Neha's home was a place of warmth and comfort, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of his own. Her parents were kind and welcoming, and there was always a sense of belonging there that Karan had never felt in his own house.
But today, something inside him urged him to be alone.
"Maybe another time," he said, trying to sound casual. "I think I'll just head home and
rest."
Neha looked disappointed but didn't press him. "Alright, but promise me you'll take
care of yourself, okay?"
Karan nodded, giving her a small smile. "I will. Thanks, Neha."
She smiled back, though there was still a trace of concern in her eyes. "See you
tomorrow, then."
As Karan walked away, he felt a pang of guilt for turning her down. But he knew he
couldn't ignore the feeling that something was calling to him, something that had been buried deep within him for a long time.
The walk home was uneventful, the streets of Banaras filled with the usual hustle and bustle of daily life. But as Karan approached his house, an old, dilapidated structure that had seen better days, he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was as if the air around him had grown heavier, charged with an unseen energy.
He hesitated at the gate, glancing up at the darkened windows of the house. There was
nothing unusual about the sight, yet Karan couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he quickly shook off the sensation, telling himself it was just his imagination.
Pushing the gate open, he walked up the cracked stone path and entered the house.
The interior was just as cold and unwelcoming as always. The walls were bare, the furniture
sparse and worn. Karan's parents had died when he was young, leaving him to be raised by a distant relative who had little interest in him. The house had been in a state of neglect ever since, with no one to care for it properly.
Karan dropped his bag on the floor and made his way to his room, the one place in the house that he had made his own. It was a small, cluttered space filled with books,
papers, and the few personal items he had collected over the years. But even here, there was a sense of emptiness, a void that nothing seemed to fill.
He sat down on the bed, his thoughts once again drifting to the dream. The man on
the battlefield, the overwhelming sense of recognition—what did it all mean? And
why did he feel like he was on the brink of something monumental?
As he pondered these questions, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him. It
was a bone-deep weariness that made his eyelids droop and his body feel heavy.
Unable to resist, he lay down on the bed, letting the darkness take him.
Karan found himself standing in a vast, open field. The sky above him was dark, filled with swirling clouds that crackled with energy. The air was thick with the scent of ozone, and the ground beneath his feet was scorched, as if a great fire had swept through the land.
He looked around, his heart pounding in his chest. He was alone, but the sense of
familiarity was overwhelming. This was the battlefield from his dream—the place where he had seen the figure of light.
As if in response to his thoughts, the clouds parted, and a beam of golden light pierced through the darkness, illuminating the figure in the distance. Karan's breath caught in his throat andhis eyes filled with the fear of unknown as the man turned to face him.
He was tall and imposing, with an aura of power that radiated from him like the
sun. His armor was intricately designed, with patterns that seemed to shift and change as Karan looked at them. But it was his eyes that captivated Karan the most—eyes that were ancient and wise, filled with a depth of knowledge that nobmortal could possess as if it had the power and brilliance of a 1000 sun.
The man took a step forward, and Karan felt a wave of warmth wash over him, dispelling the coldness that had settled in his bones.
"Karan," the man's voice was deep, resonant, and filled with a sense of command.
"You have finally come."
Karan's throat was dry, and he struggled to find his voice. "Who… who are you?"
The man smiled, a gesture that was both comforting and unsettling. "I am
someone you have known for many lifetimes, though you may not remember. I have
been waiting for you, waiting for the moment when you would awaken to your true destiny."
"Destiny?" Karan echoed, confusion and fear warring within him. "I don't understand."
"You will, in time," the man replied, his gaze never wavering. "But for now, you must
listen carefully. There is a great power within you, one that has been dormant for far too long. It is time for you to embrace it, to reclaim what is rightfully yours."
Karan shook his head, taking a step back. "No, I'm just… I'm just an ordinary boy.
I'm not… I'm not special."
The man's expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Karan's
shoulder. The touch was warm, comforting, and Karan felt some of his fear melt away.
"You are far from ordinary, Karan," the man said gently. "You are the bearer of the
Solar Rebirth, a power that has been passed down through generations. It is a power
that can reshape the world, but only if you learn to control it."
Karan's mind was reeling. "Solar rebirth? What does that even mean?"
"It means that you have the ability to harness the power of the sun itself," the man
explained. "To channel its energy, to heal, to destroy, to bring light where there is
darkness. It is a gift and a burden, one that you must learn to wield with wisdom."
The weight of the man's words settled heavily on Karan's shoulders, and he felt a
surge of panic. This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream, a figment of his imagination.
"But… why me?" he whispered. "Why do I have this power?"
The man's gaze grew distant, as if he were looking back through the ages. "Because
you have been chosen, Karan. Chosen by forces greater than you can comprehend.
The world is on the brink of a great upheaval, and you are the key to preventing it.
But you must be prepared, for the path ahead is fraught with danger."
Karan's heart raced, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This was too
much, too overwhelming. He was just a boy from Banaras, living a life of quiet obscurity. How could he possibly be the one to carry such a burden?
As if sensing his turmoil, the man's expression softened once more. "I know this is difficult for you to accept, Karan. But you are not alone. There are those who will
guide you, teach you, and help you unlock your true potential. But you must be
willing to take the first step."
Karan stared at the man, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to run, to
escape this strange, terrifying reality. But deep down, something within him
stirred—a flicker of recognition, of purpose.
"What… what do I have to do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man's eyes gleamed with approval. "You must awaken fully to your power.
Embrace the solar rebirth within you, and begin your training. The first of the Seven
Immortals awaits you, ready to test your resolve."
"The Seven Immortals?" Karan repeated, the words unfamiliar yet strangely resonant. "They are your teachers, your guides on this journey," the man explained.
"Each of them will impart their knowledge to you, preparing you for the challenges ahead. But be warned, Karan—the trials they set before you will not be easy. You will be tested in ways you cannot yet imagine."