Vikram stood before the remains of an ancient temple, its silhouette barely visible under the pale glow of the moon. The structure, though weathered by centuries of neglect, still carried an air of majesty. Intricate carvings adorned the crumbling stone walls, telling tales of gods, warriors, and celestial beings. The once grand shikhara (spire) had collapsed long ago, leaving only its base as a testament to the temple's former glory. Vines and moss snaked through the crevices, claiming the temple as their own, while the scent of damp earth lingered in the air.
As Vikram entered the inner sanctum, he paused to take in its haunting beauty. The roof was long gone, revealing the night sky above. Stars shimmered like scattered jewels, and the moon cast a pale light into the sanctum, illuminating the ruined interior. Broken columns leaned precariously, and fragments of ornate stonework lay scattered across the floor.
In the center of the sanctum was an idol, its figure split in two. The lower half remained upright, but the upper half lay discarded among the debris. The deity's features, though worn, were still discernible—a serene face with intricate details of jewelry and drapery.
Vikram knelt by the broken piece, running his fingers along its surface. He carefully lifted it and placed it next to the upright base. Examining the fracture, he gathered soil from the ground, mixing it with water from a nearby puddle to create a makeshift adhesive. Slowly, with reverence, he bonded the two pieces together, his hands steady and deliberate.
Once the idol was whole, Vikram lifted it with both hands and placed it back on the pedestal in the center of the sanctum. As soon as the idol touched the base, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble.
The earth rocked violently, and a low rumble echoed through the temple. Dust and small stones fell from the remaining walls as the tremors intensified. The vines that clung to the walls seemed to quiver as if alive, and the air grew thick with an unexplainable energy.
Vikram steadied himself, his heart racing as he glanced around. The stars above seemed to brighten, their light converging toward the sanctum. The idol began to emit a faint glow, and a sense of ancient power filled the space, awakening something long forgotten.
"What is happening?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the deep, resonating hum that now filled the air.
The temple seemed to breathe, as if coming alive after centuries of slumber, and Vikram knew he had triggered something far greater than he had anticipated.