《The forsaken god Pralaya》


 A Name of Misfortune

    Some people might think being named after a god was a blessing.


    Not for the boy named Pralaya.


    He was named after the god that even the heavens had cast away, a name cursed throughout history. A name that no sane parent would give their child¡ªunless they saw him as a burden.


    Standing in front of the worn-out door of his home, Pralaya hesitated. He didn''t want to go in. His life inside that house was hell.


    An abusive father, whose life revolved around drinking, complaining, and beating him. A timid mother, who stood by and watched, never interfering, never defending him. He had always known they didn''t love him. If they did, why the fuck would they name him after a forsaken god?


    His father never missed a chance to remind him:


    "You ruined my life."


    Pralaya never understood what he meant. It wasn''t like he had asked to be born.


    For twenty minutes, he stood outside, lost in thought, contemplating whether he should even go in. But in the end, he sighed and stepped inside.


    ---


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    The overpowering stench of alcohol hit him the moment he entered. He nearly gagged. The air in the small, dimly lit house reeked of cheap beer, sweat, and regret.


    His father sat on the couch, an empty bottle rolling near his feet. His eyes, bloodshot and dull, barely flickered in his direction.


    "I''m home," Pralaya muttered.


    "Get lost."


    No anger, no effort¡ªjust dismissal.


    He was used to this. If he greeted his father, he''d be told to get lost. If he didn''t, he''d be beaten. Either way, it was the same bullshit.


    Sighing, he walked past the living room and into the small kitchen. His mother was there, cooking. Her posture was as weak and timid as ever. She barely acknowledged him, her hands trembling as she chopped vegetables.


    "I''m back," he said.


    She didn''t reply. She never did.


    Pralaya didn''t wait for an answer. He had long since stopped expecting one.


    To him, she was worse than his father. His father was a violent drunk, but at least he was honest in his cruelty. His mother? She just stood by and watched. Even when he was beaten, even when he screamed for help¡ªshe did nothing.


    He walked to his small, empty room, closing the door behind him.


    There was nothing special about it. Just a bed and a side table. No posters, no decorations, nothing that made it feel his. His family was poor, barely scraping by in the lower class of Gaia.


    ---


    The City of Gaia


    People called Gaia the city of dreams.


    That was a lie.


    Built over a hundred years ago, Gaia was meant to be the city of tomorrow¡ªa place free from national borders, where all could prosper. In the beginning, it fulfilled that promise. But just like everything touched by humanity, it became corrupt.


    Now, Gaia was divided into four classes:


    1. The Rich & Wealthy ¨C The rulers of the city, living in luxurious high-rises, untouched by crime or suffering.


    2. The Middle Class ¨C The struggling workers, constantly teetering between stability and ruin.


    3. The Lower Class ¨C The forgotten ones, living in the slums, barely making it through each day.


    4. The Slaves ¨C The lowest of the low, people who had lost everything and were sold like property.


    Pralaya''s family belonged to the lower class, a step away from ruin.


    ---


    When dinner came, they ate in silence. No conversation. No warmth. Just the sound of utensils scraping against plates.


    Pralaya didn''t bother looking at his parents. He had nothing to say to them.


    Then¡ª


    BOOM!


    A massive explosion shook the house.


    The windows shattered. The ground rumbled beneath them.


    Pralaya''s heart pounded. What the hell was that?!

 Shadows and Light

    BOOM!


    The explosion rattled the entire neighborhood, shaking the ground beneath their feet.


    "What the hell was that?!" Pralaya shouted, his heart pounding in his chest.


    His father, for once, didn''t have a drunken remark. Instead, he staggered toward the door, his face pale. Pralaya followed, stepping outside into the dimly lit street¡ª


    And then he saw it.


    A ?¨±nyayoma.


    A creature of nightmares.


    A mass of tormented souls, denied entry into both heaven and hell, fused together into a single, wretched existence. ?¨±nyayoma were formed when more than a hundred souls filled with hatred, despair, and regret merged, given shape by their collective suffering. According to the Temples, these creatures were the children of the forsaken god Pralaya.


    Each ?¨±nyayoma was different in shape and size, but all shared one horrifying trait¡ªa swirling black void where their face should be.


    This one was massive, its twisted body shifting like liquid shadows, constantly morphing. It stood over three stories tall, with long, jagged arms that dragged against the ground. Faint, distorted whispers filled the air around it¡ªvoices of the countless souls trapped within, murmuring in agony.


    It wasn''t rampaging. Not yet. It was looking for something. Or someone.


    Then¡ª


    A blinding beam of light crashed into the ?¨±nyayoma, sending it staggering back.


    Pralaya''s eyes darted upward.


    A figure hovered in the air above them, wrapped in flowing black robes, her silhouette illuminated by the moonlight.


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    Even before he saw her face, he knew what she was.


    A ?¨±nyav¨¡da.


    The ?¨±nyav¨¡da¡ªHunters of the Forsaken


    ?¨±nyav¨¡da were warriors, monks, and scholars who had awakened the power of karmic energy¡ªthe force that governed reincarnation and divine justice. It was their duty to hunt and destroy the ?¨±nyayoma when they emerged.


    The air around the woman shimmered with golden Sanskrit symbols, pulsing with an ancient power.


    The ?¨±nyayoma let out a distorted wail, its many voices overlapping in a nightmarish, inhuman symphony.


    Then it attacked.


    Its shadowy form lunged, stretching its arms unnaturally, forming jagged claws large enough to tear a building apart.


    But the ?¨±nyav¨¡da did not flinch.


    She flicked her ornate staff downward, and golden symbols materialized in the air around her.


    "Dharma Vajra Sutra¡ªUnbreakable Radiance!"


    A radiant golden barrier erupted in front of her, just as the ?¨±nyayoma''s claws crashed into it. A shockwave of dark energy burst outward, shaking the street.


    Pralaya was blown backward, his ears ringing. He barely managed to stay on his feet, his wide eyes locked onto the battle.


    The ?¨±nyayoma screeched in frustration.


    Its body split apart, unraveling into dozens of writhing tendrils, each one tipped with screaming, howling faces. They surged toward the ?¨±nyav¨¡da from all directions, moving like living shadows.


    She moved.


    With inhuman grace, she twirled her staff, tracing glowing mandalas in the air as she spun. Each movement was precise, fluid¡ªalmost like a dance.


    "Karmic Wheel¡ªHundred Lotus Strikes!"


    Golden lotus-shaped projectiles burst forth from the mandalas, slicing through the tendrils with divine precision.


    The ?¨±nyayoma reeled back, its body rapidly shifting as it tried to reform.


    But the ?¨±nyav¨¡da didn''t let up.


    She pressed forward, raising her staff high. Behind her, a massive ring of fire ignited, shaped like a spinning chakra, whirling at an insane speed. The sheer heat from it made Pralaya''s skin burn even from a distance.


    "Samsara Flame¡ªCycle of Purification!"


    She hurled the chakra.


    It tore through the ?¨±nyayoma''s torso, slicing it in half. The creature let out a horrifying, cursed wail, its body unraveling into a storm of black smoke.


    The swirling void where its face should have been began to crack.


    The ?¨±nyav¨¡da landed gracefully, placing her hand in a mudra¡ªa sacred gesture of divine authority.


    Her voice was calm, absolute.


    "Karmic Judgment¡ªReturn to the Void."


    A blinding pillar of golden light erupted from her body, engulfing the ?¨±nyayoma completely.


    Its agonized screams echoed through the night¡­ and then faded into silence.


    The battle was over.


    ---


    A Familiar Feeling


    Pralaya exhaled shakily, only now realizing he had been holding his breath.


    His entire body was trembling. But not from fear.


    No¡­ it was something else.


    Something¡­ familiar.


    His father, who had been frozen in place the entire time, collapsed onto his knees, muttering prayers under his breath.


    Then¡ª


    The ?¨±nyav¨¡da turned to face them.


    Her golden eyes met Pralaya''s.


    For a moment, something passed between them.


    Recognition?


    Understanding?


    Or was it¡­ something deeper?


    Before he could speak, she turned away.


    Without another word, she walked into the shadows¡ª


    And vanished.


    Pralaya stood there, his heart pounding in his chest.


    He didn''t know why.


    But something inside him told him


    To go to where the battle just took place.

 The Mask鈥檚 Will

    Pralaya didn''t know why, but something inside him told him to go to the place where the battle had taken place. His heart pounded as he grabbed his things and rushed out of the house, ignoring his father''s desperate shouts to return. His feet carried him forward as if he were being pulled by an unseen force.


    When he arrived, the battlefield was eerily silent. The lingering energy from the fight still hung in the air like static, causing his skin to prickle. But there was something else¡ªsomething deeper. It was as if he could feel everything in the area. His senses expanded beyond anything he had ever experienced, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly alive.


    He remembered how the ?¨±nyayoma had acted strangely before the ?¨±nyav¨¡da appeared, almost as if it were searching for something. But now, there was no trace of anything significant left behind.


    For two hours, Pralaya searched, overturning debris and scanning every inch of the ruined street. Nothing.


    Maybe he was overthinking it.


    Just as he turned to leave, his foot nudged something. A cold shiver ran down his spine.


    Lying there on the ground was a black, demonic-looking mask.


    Pralaya froze. This wasn''t here before¡­ I''m sure of it.


    He crouched down and hesitantly picked it up. The mask felt heavier than it should, its surface smooth yet unnervingly warm, as though it were alive. A strange sensation crept through his fingers, a whisper of something¡­ wrong.


    Then, a voice from behind shattered the silence.


    "Drop the mask, kid."


    Pralaya spun around. A man dressed entirely in black stood a few feet away, his face shadowed by his hood. Three swords were strapped to his waist, their hilts adorned with strange symbols. His stance was relaxed, but there was an undeniable air of danger surrounding him.


    "You look like a civilian," the man said, his tone calm but edged with warning. "That thing isn''t meant for you. Just put it down, and I''ll let you walk away."


    Pralaya''s grip on the mask tightened. His instincts screamed at him to listen, but his body refused to let go.


    The man sighed, reaching for one of his swords. "Guess that''s a no."


    In an instant, he vanished.


    A second later, a blast of pure karmic energy struck Pralaya in the chest.


    The world blurred as he was sent flying, crashing into a wall with a bone-jarring impact. Pain exploded through his body, and his vision swam. He struggled to stay conscious, but his limbs refused to move.


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    Through the haze, he saw the man approaching.


    "Nothing personal, kid," the man muttered. "You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."


    Darkness crept at the edges of Pralaya''s vision. Then, for a brief moment, his eyes shut¡ª


    And a vision overtook him.


    ---


    He saw fire.


    A storm of flames consumed everything around him, turning the land into a wasteland of smoldering ash. Countless bodies lay scattered across the battlefield, their lifeless forms frozen in agony.


    Above it all, a figure floated in the sky, wreathed in shadows and light.


    The figure slowly turned¡ªstaring directly at him.


    Pralaya''s breath hitched.


    It knew he was watching.


    ---


    Back in reality, the masked man crouched down, reaching for the mask still clutched in Pralaya''s hands.


    But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t pry it free. Even unconscious, Pralaya''s grip was unnaturally strong.


    Suddenly, a pulse of karmic energy erupted from his body.


    The masked man instinctively leaped back, his muscles tensing.


    The air around Pralaya shimmered. A strange black mist seeped from the mask, swirling around him like living smoke. The temperature dropped.


    Then, the mask disappeared.


    A chilling silence filled the air.


    Pralaya''s body twitched.


    Then, he stood up.


    But it wasn''t him.


    His movements were too smooth, too precise¡ªlike a puppet being controlled by unseen strings.


    The mask materialized onto his face, fusing with his skin. His eyes glowed with an eerie, unnatural light.


    The masked man narrowed his eyes. Damn it.


    Gripping one of his swords, he took a stance. "Tch¡­ so you were chosen by it?"


    Without warning, he vanished again¡ªreappearing in front of Pralaya in an instant.


    Akash Step¡ªVoid Stride.


    His blade came down in a perfect arc, aiming to take Pralaya''s head clean off.


    But Pralaya¡ªor whatever was controlling him¡ªmoved.


    Effortlessly.


    Dodging the strike with inhuman fluidity, he countered with a burst of pure black energy. The masked man barely managed to twist his body away, but the shockwave sent him skidding backward.


    The ground beneath them cracked from the force.


    "Alright then," the masked man muttered, flipping his sword. "Let''s see if you can handle this."


    He placed his hands together in a mudra.


    Karmic Blade Art¡ªThreefold Samsara Cut.


    A golden aura surrounded his sword as he swung. Three slashes of compressed energy shot toward Pralaya at impossible speed.


    Pralaya reacted instantly.


    Raising his hand, he conjured a swirling black sphere.


    Void Dharma¡ªDevouring Samsara.


    The golden slashes vanished the moment they touched the sphere, swallowed whole by the abyss.


    The masked man''s eyes widened.


    But he didn''t stop.


    Using Akash Step again, he closed the distance, his blade flashing in a series of rapid, precise strikes. Pralaya dodged with unnatural ease, his body twisting in impossible ways.


    Then, he retaliated.


    Cycle of Yama¡ªThousand Shadow Fangs.


    Dozens of dark tendrils erupted from his back, each tipped with a fanged maw, lunging at the masked man.


    With a roar, the man spun, unleashing a torrent of karmic energy.


    Dharmic Shield¡ªEightfold Lotus Ward!


    A radiant lotus bloomed around him, intercepting the tendrils in a blinding explosion.


    The battle raged, neither side yielding. The very air trembled under the sheer force of their clash.


    Then¡ª


    The masked man made a mistake.


    A split-second miscalculation.


    And it cost him.


    Pralaya''s possessed form conjured another sphere of black energy.


    Karmic Nihility¡ªEndless Samsara.


    The moment even a single fragment of this technique touched the man, he would cease to exist.


    The masked man''s eyes widened in realization. I can''t dodge this!


    The sphere launched toward him¡ª


    But just before it could connect, something changed.


    Pralaya fought back.


    ---


    Inside his own mind, he found himself in a black void, watching the battle unfold.


    But he wasn''t alone.


    A massive serpent coiled in the darkness, its crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.


    "Forget your body, child. It belongs to me now."


    Pralaya clenched his fists. "Who the hell are you?"


    The serpent chuckled.


    "I am the shadow that clings to fate. I am the whisper in the void. I am the Masked One¡­ and now, I am you."


    Pralaya gritted his teeth. "Like hell you are!"


    The serpent lunged¡ª


    But before it could strike, something else stirred.


    A suffocating presence filled the void.


    It wasn''t Pralaya.


    Yet, it was.


    The serpent recoiled.


    A single, unseen force stared at it¡ªwithout a word, without a sound.


    And the serpent knew.


    It was being commanded. To leave


    Back in the real world¡ª


    A dark mist erupted from the mask, forming the serpent''s shape.


    Pralaya gasped as he finally regained control of his body.


    The mask still on his face.

 The Serpent鈥檚 Wrath

    Pralaya staggered, his body still adjusting after breaking free from the serpent''s control. His mind swirled with questions, but one stood out the most¡ª


    "Why did the serpent let go of me right before attacking?"


    It made no sense.


    But before he could dwell on it, the man standing before him spoke.


    "Interesting. You actually managed to overcome the curse."


    Pralaya narrowed his eyes. He hadn''t forgotten that this man had tried to kill him just minutes ago. "Curse? What are you talking about?"


    The man smirked. "I suppose you wouldn''t know. That mask on your face is the legendary ''Curse Mask of Kali.'' And that serpent¡ª" he gestured to the coiling, shadowy beast reforming in the distance "¡ªis Kali''s spirit."


    Pralaya clenched his fists. "And what does that mean for me?"


    The man folded his arms. "Anyone who wears the mask becomes a prisoner to it. The curse makes it impossible to remove. But since you broke free from its control, you now own it. You can summon and dismiss the mask at will¡ªwithout even touching it."


    Pralaya hesitated. "That doesn''t sound so bad."


    He focused, and the mask vanished from his face. Another thought¡ªand it reappeared instantly.


    His lips curled slightly. "That''s¡­ kind of cool."


    The man snorted. "Don''t get cocky, kid."


    Before Pralaya could respond, a terrifying hiss filled the air.


    The serpent had fully reformed.


    Its massive body, black as the void, coiled and stretched toward the heavens. Its golden eyes gleamed with pure malice, and a sickly mist radiated from its form, warping the space around it.


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    The serpent spoke. "You may have broken free, vessel. But you are not beyond my grasp."


    Pralaya instinctively took a step back, his breathing heavy. His body remembered the pain of its control.


    The man, however, cracked his neck and placed a hand on his sword.


    "Stay out of this, kid. I''ll handle it."


    Pralaya blinked. "Wait¡ªyou''re fighting that thing alone?"


    The man smirked. "It''s not even worth going all out."


    The serpent lunged.The air shattered as the serpent''s massive body struck down like a tidal wave. The sheer force of its movement sent violent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.


    But the man didn''t move.


    At the last second, he took a single step forward¡ªand vanished.


    The serpent''s attack obliterated the ground where he once stood, sending rock and dust flying into the air. But before the debris could settle¡ª


    A flash of silver light streaked through the chaos.


    A deep, gashing wound suddenly appeared along the serpent''s massive body, spraying black mist into the air.


    From above, the man descended¡ªhis sword gleaming with an ethereal glow.


    He struck again. Faster than Pralaya could follow.


    Each strike was precise, merciless, and devastating. Blades of pure energy cut through the serpent''s form like paper, forcing it into a frenzied retreat.


    The serpent screeched in fury, its body shifting wildly to dodge the incoming attacks. But the man was relentless.


    In the span of three seconds, he had slashed the beast over a hundred times.


    Pralaya stood frozen, his eyes struggling to keep up.


    "He was holding back this much before?!"


    The serpent retaliated, releasing a wave of black fire from its gaping maw. The cursed flames distorted reality itself, consuming everything in their path.


    Pralaya''s instincts screamed for him to run.


    But the man remained still.


    Then¡ªhe sheathed his sword.


    Pralaya''s eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing?! It''s attacking!"


    The man didn''t respond. Instead, he slowly exhaled.


    Then¡ª


    "Karma Severance: Sixth Form¡ªCleansing Blade."


    He vanished.


    A moment later¡ª


    The entire world turned white.


    A single, blinding slash cut through everything.


    The cursed flames split apart. The black fire dissipated instantly, as if erased from existence. And at the center of it all¡ª


    The serpent''s body split into two.


    A heavy silence followed.


    Then¡ª


    The two halves of the serpent''s form collapsed.


    Pralaya watched in stunned silence as the once-mighty beast writhed and disintegrated into dust, its essence fading into nothingness.


    The battle was over.


    Aftermath


    The man flicked his blade, sending the last traces of black mist scattering into the wind before sheathing it once more.


    Pralaya finally found his voice. "You¡­ You completely destroyed it. That was insane."


    The man shrugged. "Told you it wasn''t worth going all out."


    Pralaya swallowed. The sheer gap between them was overwhelming.


    "Who¡­ are you?"


    The man turned slightly, his expression unreadable.


    "Names are irrelevant. But if you must call me something¡­"


    He glanced at Pralaya, a smirk playing at his lips.


    "You can call me the ''Sword of Dharma.''"


    Pralaya''s hands clenched.


    This was the moment he realized something.


    He was weak.


    Pathetically weak.


    If he wanted answers¡ªif he wanted to control the mask''s power¡ªhe would need strength.


    And right now, standing before him, was the strongest person he had ever seen.


    Pralaya made a decision.


    "Teach me."


    The man raised an eyebrow. "Teach you?"


    Pralaya nodded, his voice unwavering. "Teach me how to fight."


    The man studied him for a moment. Then, to Pralaya''s surprise¡ª


    He laughed. "You? A fighter? You''re barely standing."


    Pralaya gritted his teeth. "Then make me strong enough to stand."


    The man''s smirk faded. His eyes sharpened, as if weighing the request. Then¡ª


    He turned away.


    "We''ll see."


    And with that, he started walking, leaving Pralaya with nothing but the remains of the battle and the weight of his newfound determination.

 karmic energy

    Pralaya stood on the battlefield, still recalling the fight. But now, for the first time in his life, he was actually looking forward to something. Then, he remembered his father''s voice telling him to come back as he grabbed his things and ran out.


    Pralaya knew exactly what was waiting for him at home, but to him, it was worth it.


    He stood in front of the worn-out door, preparing for the inevitable. The moment he opened it, a bottle of alcohol came flying at him. But something was different. To Pralaya, the bottle was moving slowly toward him¡ªalmost as if the entire world had entered slow motion. He simply counted the seconds before catching it midair.


    His mind was still processing what had just happened when his father suddenly stood up from his chair, grabbed Pralaya, and started cursing him.


    "You bastard! You dare run away and ignore me?"


    His father punched him in the face, sending him crashing into the wall. Pralaya spat out blood, but his father wasn''t done. He kicked him in the stomach and struck him again. Pralaya didn''t cry¡ªhe was already used to these beatings.


    From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother standing there, watching with a blank expression. As always, she said nothing, did nothing. That hurt more than the beating itself.


    After ten minutes of relentless abuse, his father grabbed him by the hair, dragged him to his room, and threw him inside.


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    "You are a cursed child!" his father spat, literally and figuratively, before locking the door.


    Pralaya lay on the floor, breathing heavily. His face was wounded, but he didn''t seem to care. Maybe it was because he had grown used to the pain, or maybe it was because of the excitement from earlier.


    He slowly stood up, leaning against the wall for support. Suddenly, his body began to feel warm. The pain from his wounds started to fade, as if they were healing on their own. He removed his shirt and looked at his chest, confirming his suspicion¡ªhis wounds were actually healing.


    "Could it be... because of my karmic energy?" he muttered.


    Wanting to test his theory, he concentrated deeply, trying to manifest his karmic energy. At first, nothing happened. He must have looked like an idiot, standing there, straining for something unseen. Eventually, exhausted from trying, he collapsed onto his bed.


    "Maybe I''m doing it wrong... or maybe I''m missing something," he thought.


    As he drifted off to sleep, another thought crossed his mind.


    "Why did the cursed spirit leave my body? It was as if... it was afraid of something. I wonder what it was..."


    And with that, he fell asleep.


    ---


    Morning arrived. Pralaya woke up feeling refreshed, but something was off. Not only was his body completely healed¡ªthere wasn''t a single wound left¡ªit was as if last night''s injuries had never existed.


    More importantly, he could feel his karmic energy. This time, it was different. He could actually see it, feel it. It was translucent and had a liquid-like sensation as it covered his body.


    "So this is what karmic energy looks and feels like," he said excitedly.


    Walking over to his window, he gazed upon the slums of Gaia with a smile. If any of the lower-class people saw him like this, they would have thought he was crazy.


    Just as he was about to leave his room, he remembered¡ªhis father had locked the door.


    "It might be a while before he opens it..." he thought.


    Lying back on his bed, bored with nothing to do, he decided to test his newfound power. Without forcing it this time, he simply focused, and the karmic energy flowed freely through his body. He was still trying to get used to the sensation.


    Raising his right hand, he concentrated on channeling his karmic energy into it. His palm suddenly felt stronger. He reached out to touch the wall, but before his hand could even make contact, the sheer amount of karmic energy radiating from it caused the wall to crack.


    Eyes widening, he quickly pulled his hand back, not wanting to create more damage.

 The Depths of the Slums

    Pralaya stared at the cracked wall, impressed by his own strength.


    "I need to find a way out of this house to test my ability, but Father isn''t letting me out anytime soon."


    His gaze shifted toward the window, and an idea formed in his mind¡ªsneaking out. It was definitely going to come back and bite him later, but right now, he didn''t care.


    As he gathered his things, a thought crossed his mind¡ªthe Cursed Mask. Almost as if responding to him, the mask materialized in his right hand.


    "I completely forgot about this thing," he muttered.


    He slipped the mask over his face and stepped toward the window, preparing to jump out. But the moment he looked down, reality hit him.


    "Damn... I forgot. I''m on the ninth floor."


    His family home was high up in one of the many rundown apartment complexes of the slums. If he didn''t want to turn into a corpse splattered across the alleyway below, he needed to find a safer way down.


    That''s when another thought came to him.


    "What if I cover my entire body in karmic energy? It should offer some protection, right?"


    Channeling his karmic energy, he focused on spreading it throughout his body. A surge of warmth spread through him as translucent energy coated his skin. Without even realizing it, Pralaya had begun molding the energy, shaping it into something more refined instead of letting it flow uncontrollably.


    Looking down at his hands, he saw the karmic energy forming a protective layer, almost like a second skin. His entire body felt stronger¡ªmore resilient.


    Taking a deep breath, he looked outside the window again, locking his eyes onto the next building below.


    "I hope I make this jump... I don''t even want to imagine what''ll happen if I miss."


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    To gain momentum, he ran back to the door, took a deep breath, then sprinted forward.


    With one powerful leap, he launched himself out of the window, soaring through the air.


    The feeling was exhilarating. The wind rushed against his body, his heart pounded wildly in his chest, and instead of fear, all he felt was pure excitement. He was completely ignoring the fact that if he failed, he''d end up as a smear on the ground.


    A moment later¡ªimpact.


    He landed on the next building with ease. His knees bent slightly to absorb the shock, but to his surprise, he barely felt anything.


    "I thought that was going to hurt more," he muttered, flexing his fingers.


    He had successfully escaped.


    As Pralaya stepped onto the streets of the slums, an eerie sense of awareness washed over him. He had walked these streets countless times since childhood, but for some reason, today felt different.


    He saw it all¡ªthe true ugliness of the world he lived in.


    The streets were filled with broken-down shacks and crumbling buildings, the air thick with the stench of sweat, filth, and rotting garbage. The ground was uneven, littered with shattered glass, rusted metal, and discarded scraps of food.


    Children lay on the ground, their eyes hollow, their ribs visible beneath their skin. Their small hands trembled as they reached out for passersby, begging for even the smallest scrap of food. Some had already given up, lying motionless in the dirt, their faces blank and lifeless.


    Women lined the alleyways, their faces painted with fake smiles, their bodies sold for a few miserable money just to afford their next meal. Some stood with dead eyes, resigned to their fate, while others barely clung to whatever dignity they had left.


    Men, who should have been working, sat on the sides of the streets, guzzling cheap beer from dented cans. Their eyes were glazed over, drowning in despair, their drunken laughter masking the hopelessness within.


    "Where the hell did they even get the money for that" Pralaya thought, with a disgusted look


    The deeper he walked into the slums, the more the reality of his world suffocated him.


    "This is the life of the lower class... This is the world he was born into."


    For some reason, he had never truly noticed how wretched the slums were. Perhaps he had grown numb to it. Or maybe he had been too focused on his own survival to care.


    His lips curled into a sneer.


    "This world is beyond broken


    But he shook off the dark thoughts.


    "I need to find a place to test my power ''''


    Then, an idea struck him¡ªthe junkyard.


    A massive wasteland where the middle class and the wealthy dumped their unwanted trash. For the lower-class citizens, it was a gold mine of discarded furniture, old machines, and anything that could be salvaged.


    It was also the perfect place for him to test his power.


    When he arrived, he could already see people digging through the piles of garbage.


    Men, women, even children¡ªall of them scavengers, all of them searching for something valuable enough to sell or use.


    Some had spent their entire lives doing this, surviving off the scraps thrown away by the rich. Others had once been middle class before they lost everything, now reduced to scavengers.


    Pralaya ignored them and made his way deeper into the junkyard, heading toward a place where no one would see him.


    As he walked, a man dressed in rags bumped into him.


    "Sorry, kid," the man muttered with a weird smile before walking away.


    For some reason, Pralaya felt something familiar about him.


    The way the man moved, his body structure, the way he vanished into the junkyard ¡ªit all felt like something Pralaya had seen before.


    But no face came to mind.


    Dismissing the thought, he pushed forward, finally reaching the deepest part of the junkyard, a place where no one ever went.


    Here, he would finally test his abilities without interruption.

 The Junkyard鈥檚 Phantom

    Pralaya stood at the heart of the junkyard ¡ª a graveyard of twisted metal and forgotten machines. The air was thick with the scent of rust and oil, and the ground crunched beneath his bare feet ¡ª broken glass, shattered circuits, and fragments of things that had long lost their purpose. Yet amid this desolation, Pralaya stood perfectly still. His breathing slowed, his eyes closing as he reached inward.


    The hum of the junkyard faded until all that remained was the quiet thrum of his own existence ¡ª and the pulse of his karmic energy, waiting to be unleashed. It coiled inside him like a caged beast, heavy and burning, just waiting for a moment of release.


    When his eyes opened, they gleamed with a strange, cold light. He raised his hand slowly, his fingers curling as if grasping something invisible. The air shifted. A sudden gust swept through the junkyard, and the scattered debris around him began to tremble.


    And then ¡ª he moved.


    In a blink, he was gone from where he had stood, the ground exploding in his wake. The next instant, he was twenty feet away, his hand buried wrist-deep in the side of a rusted steel tower. The entire structure groaned under the impact, cracks spiderwebbing outward before it collapsed with a deafening crash. But Pralaya wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    He had already moved again.


    He danced through the wreckage with terrifying speed, his movements fluid and inhuman. One second, he was on the ground, the next he was above it, perched on a crumbling girder like a phantom. He leapt ¡ª and the girder snapped like a twig beneath the force. Midair, his palm struck out, and a wave of karmic energy burst forth.


    A hundred yards away, an entire wall of scrap metal exploded outward, shards flying in every direction. But as the deadly shrapnel rained toward him, Pralaya simply raised a finger ¡ª and the air itself seemed to ripple and shift around him. The metal froze in place, suspended for a heartbeat, before it fell harmlessly to the ground.


    Pralaya stared at his hand, eyes wide with disbelief. A slow, excited grin spread across his face.


    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t believe I just did that,¡± he whispered.


    The power ¡ª it was intoxicating.


    But he wanted more.


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    His mind flashed back to the man in black ¡ª the one who had slain the cursed spirit with terrifying ease. That sword technique¡­ the final attack that had cut through the monster like it was nothing. Could he replicate that?


    Pralaya bent down and picked up a rusted steel rod. He closed his eyes, remembering the man¡¯s movements. They had been so sharp, so precise ¡ª a perfect blend of grace and destruction.


    He took a breath.


    The air around him seemed to still.


    Karmic energy surged within him like a rushing wave, coiling around his limbs, sharpening his senses. He moved ¡ª


    And then everything went wrong.


    The moment his body shifted, his karmic energy turned against him. It shot inward, folding back on itself like a snake biting its own tail. The pain was instant and absolute.


    It felt like his entire body was on fire from the inside out.


    Pralaya¡¯s veins pulsed violently, his muscles seizing as the energy ran rampant through him. A strangled cry escaped his throat, and he dropped to his knees, the steel rod clattering to the ground. Blood splattered the dirt as he coughed, his body convulsing with every pulse of pain.


    His vision blurred. His heartbeat roared in his ears. Every breath was agony.


    It felt endless.


    For seven long minutes, Pralaya writhed on the ground, his body completely at the mercy of the energy that had once felt so powerful ¡ª so exhilarating. And now it was tearing him apart.


    When the pain finally began to subside, he lay there, trembling and drenched in sweat. His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. Every inch of him ached. He couldn¡¯t move.


    But the world had no intention of letting him rest.


    A deafening explosion shattered the stillness. The ground quaked beneath him, and Pralaya¡¯s eyes snapped open. He turned his head toward the source of the blast ¡ª a thick plume of black smoke rising in the distance.


    His home.


    ¡°No¡­¡± Pralaya whispered, his voice raw.


    Ignoring the pain in his body, he forced himself to his feet. His legs shook beneath him, but he stayed upright. He grabbed his few belongings and began running, every step sending fresh waves of agony through his limbs.


    But he didn¡¯t stop.


    Please be okay¡­


    The thought repeated in his mind like a prayer. Despite everything his parents had done ¡ª the coldness, the cruelty ¡ª they were still his family. And family was all he had.


    As he reached the slums near his home, chaos consumed the streets. People ran in every direction, their faces twisted with fear and confusion. The air was filled with screams and the acrid scent of burning.


    Pralaya grabbed a man who was fleeing past him. ¡°What happened?!¡± he demanded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the man shouted, his eyes wild. ¡°An explosion ¡ª and then things just started¡­ breaking! Like there was something there, but no one could see it!¡±


    The man shoved Pralaya aside and kept running.


    Pralaya hit the ground hard, his body screaming in protest. But his mind latched onto the man¡¯s words.


    An explosion. Invisible destruction.


    ¡°?¨±nyayoma¡­¡± Pralaya whispered, his blood running cold.


    But why wasn¡¯t anyone able to see it?


    He pushed the thought aside and forced himself back up, sprinting toward his home.


    When he finally reached the area, he froze.


    The scene before him was pure horror.


    Bodies lay scattered across the ground ¡ª some crushed, some burned beyond recognition. Houses had collapsed into smoldering ruins. The air reeked of blood and smoke and something far worse.


    And then ¡ª his vision shifted.


    For a heartbeat, he was somewhere else. The same twisted, distorted world he had seen when the cursed spirit had taken hold of him. The same darkness, the same ruin.


    When his vision snapped back to reality, the two were indistinguishable.


    The smell of burning flesh hit him like a physical blow, and his stomach twisted violently. He doubled over, barely managing to keep from vomiting.


    But there was no time for weakness.


    He forced himself to stand, his eyes locked on the inferno ahead. The place he called home ¡ª the only home he had ever known ¡ª was being reduced to ash.


    And whatever was responsible for this nightmare¡­ was still here.

 A Shattered Home

    As Pralaya made his way through the burning ruins of the slums, the world around him felt like a nightmare. The air was thick with smoke, and the scent of charred flesh and destruction clawed at his throat. Flames danced on broken buildings, casting twisted shadows, and the screams of the dying echoed through the night. But none of it mattered ¡ª not the fire, not the chaos.


    He only had one thought.


    Home.


    When he finally reached the crumbling structure that had once been his house, his heart plummeted. Half the building had been blown apart ¡ª and the damage was centered right where his family''s apartment was.


    Pralaya''s breath hitched. Dread curled in his stomach like a living thing.


    "Mom! Dad!" he screamed, his voice cracking.


    He ran toward the entrance, only to skid to a stop. The way inside was blocked ¡ª a mass of collapsed debris and shattered concrete sealed the doorway.


    No¡­ No, no, no¡­


    His mind spun, scrambling for a solution. He looked up, and his eyes landed on an open balcony five floors above.


    I can make it, he thought. I have to make it.


    Ignoring the pain still burning through his body, Pralaya forced his battered limbs to move. Karmic energy surged through him, and agony erupted like wildfire. His muscles spasmed. His veins felt like they were tearing apart. He fell to one knee, coughing up blood. But still, he pushed forward.


    He jumped.


    The ground cracked beneath the force of his leap, and the balcony rushed toward him. His fingers stretched out ¡ª inches away ¡ª but the pain flared again, white-hot and merciless.


    He missed.


    Pralaya''s body plummeted. But before he could hit the ground, something caught him.


    He felt it ¡ª a surge of unfamiliar karmic energy wrapping around him like invisible hands. The force lifted him effortlessly, guiding him upward. Moments later, his feet landed softly on the balcony.


    Pralaya whirled around, scanning the burning slums below for his mysterious savior. But all he saw was fire and death. Whoever it was¡­ they were already gone.


    No time for this.


    He turned and ran.


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    Far below, in the heart of the burning slums, a lone figure stood amidst the devastation, watching the building with a faint, amused smile.


    ---


    Pralaya reached his family''s apartment ¡ª or what was left of it. The walls were caved in. The floor was littered with broken furniture and shattered glass. A massive hole yawned where the living room used to be.


    "Dad! Mom!" he called out desperately.


    A faint sound ¡ª a low, pained groan ¡ª answered him. It came from his parents'' bedroom.


    Pralaya ran.


    He found his father pinned beneath a pile of rubble. The man''s face was streaked with blood and ash ¡ª and even now, he was drunk. The familiar stench of alcohol clung to him.


    "Dad! Hang on!" Pralaya cried, hauling the debris off him. "Where''s Mom? Where¡ª"


    His father raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the corner of the room.


    Pralaya turned ¡ª and his world shattered.


    His mother''s body lay broken and still, her head crushed beneath a massive slab of the wall. Blood stained the ground around her, dark and unforgiving.


    He stared, his mind going blank. A single tear slipped down his cheek.


    For a long moment, there was only silence. Then his karmic energy surged ¡ª wild and furious. The air around him grew heavy. The ground trembled. Even his drunken father recoiled at the sheer pressure rolling off him.


    But Pralaya didn''t lose control. He swallowed the rage. The pain. The grief.


    He turned back to his father and pulled him to his feet without a word. Together, they stumbled toward the exit.


    ---


    They made it outside ¡ª and the world exploded.


    Something crashed through the building behind them, sending shards of stone and metal flying. Pralaya spun around, dragging his father back ¡ª and froze.


    It stood before them.


    The ?¨±nyayoma.


    Three stories tall, it loomed like a nightmare given form. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of twisted flesh, its four arms ending in razor-sharp claws. Its face was a void ¡ª a black, endless nothing ¡ª save for a wide, jagged mouth. Four enormous, black wings unfurled from its back, casting shadows across the burning slums.


    It opened its mouth ¡ª and screamed.


    The sound was an abomination, a chorus of countless voices layered on top of each other in a shriek that shattered the air. Pralaya''s head felt like it was splitting open. His knees buckled, his vision swam. Beside him, his father fell, clutching his skull.


    "Dad¡ª"


    A sharp pain exploded in his head.


    His father had hit him.


    Stunned and dizzy, Pralaya collapsed. Blood trickled down his face from the wound.


    "Be useful for once in your life," his father sneered. His eyes were wild, his face twisted in desperation. "Sacrifice yourself for me. Stay here and keep it busy ¡ª long enough for me to escape."


    He turned and ran.


    Pralaya lay there, dazed and bleeding, as his father''s figure disappeared into the smoke.


    The ?¨±nyayoma turned its faceless void toward him.


    Its mouth opened wide, and the air around it began to distort. Karmic energy condensed into a crackling sphere of black and purple light


    Dreos.


    A beam of condensed destruction, traveling at the speed of light.


    The sphere fired.


    But before the beam could reach him ¡ª


    A figure appeared.


    The stranger''s sword flashed, and the beam split apart, dispersing harmlessly into the air.


    Pralaya stared in shock.


    The man stood tall and composed, dressed in black with a wide-brimmed hat tilted low over his face. Three swords hung from his waist, and his presence radiated calm strength.


    "The Sword of Dharma¡­" Pralaya whispered.


    The man glanced down at him and smiled.


    "You look like hell, kid," he said lightly.


    Pralaya struggled to his feet, his head still spinning. "You¡­ you''re the one who helped me. You lifted me to the balcony."


    The man''s smile widened. "Sharp. Yeah, that was me."


    "Let me help you fight it," Pralaya said, his voice shaking.


    The man didn''t answer. He simply took off his hat and placed it on Pralaya''s head.


    "Sit your ass down, kid," he said. "You''re in no condition to fight."


    Pralaya clenched his fists. "I''ve been training¡ª"


    "For one day," the man cut in dryly. "And you nearly killed yourself. I''ve been watching you, you know."


    Pralaya blinked. "You¡­ You were the man in rags. In the junkyard. The one I bumped into."


    "Bingo." The man grinned. "And that''s how I know you''re not ready. Hell, you''re barely strong enough to take on an Awakened ?¨±nyayoma ¡ª and that thing over there?" He tilted his head toward the monstrous creature. "That''s a Forsaken."


    Pralaya''s breath caught.


    Sunyayoma have seven evolutionary stages


    1. Awakened


    2. Forsaken


    3. Terror


    4. Tyrant


    5. Damon Lord


    6. Sovereign


    7. Transcendent Sovereign


    And Forsaken-level ?¨±nyayoma were far beyond his current ability. Even at full strength, he wouldn''t stand a chance.


    "You get it now?" the swordsman asked quietly. "If you try to fight that thing¡­ YOU WILL DIE.


    Pralaya didn''t answer. He didn''t have to. The truth was written all over his face.

 The Sword of Dharma

    The man turned back to the towering abomination, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off dust.


    "Stay here," he said, drawing one of his three swords. The blade hummed in the firelight, emanating a pressure so dense that even Pralaya felt suffocated. "This won''t take long."


    Pralaya clenched his fists, frustration burning inside him. His entire body ached, his head was still bleeding, but more than anything¡ªhe hated his own helplessness. The ?¨±nyayoma let out another deafening shriek, its void-like face distorting as karmic energy coiled around its grotesque form. The air twisted violently as it prepared to unleash another Dreos blast.


    The moment the creature fired, the man vanished.


    Pralaya barely registered what had happened before an explosive force sent shockwaves through the ruins. A deafening boom rang out as the ?¨±nyayoma was launched backward, crashing through multiple buildings with a tremendous impact. The sheer force of the attack left a crater where the monster had been standing.


    What the hell was that?! Pralaya thought, his eyes wide. A single kick had sent something that weighed several tons flying?


    The ?¨±nyayoma barely had time to recover before the man was on it again. Two of its twisted arms lashed out, aiming to crush him mid-air. But the man¡ªhis body now wreathed in an intense karmic aura¡ªcreated footholds in the air itself, shifting his position instantly.


    As the monster''s claws closed in, the man leapt forward, his blade flashing like a streak of light.


    Karmic Blade Art: A Thousand Lives, A Thousand Deaths.


    A flurry of slashes erupted in an instant, faster than the eye could follow. The creature''s two attacking arms were reduced to minuscule fragments, obliterated as if they had never existed.


    The ?¨±nyayoma howled in agony, its ear-splitting screech causing the very air to vibrate. Even Pralaya, standing at a distance, felt his eardrums nearly rupture. But the man wasn''t done.


    He dashed forward,aiming for the sunyayoma chest


    Just as his blade was about to pierce through, one of the ?¨±nyayoma''s four massive wings lashed out like a battering ram. With no time to evade, the wing slammed into him, sending him hurtling through a nearby building.


    Dust and debris erupted from the impact.


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    Pralaya''s breath caught in his throat. He couldn''t even see where the man had landed. Was he¡ª?


    "Tch¡­ Didn''t see that coming."


    The voice echoed through the smoke.


    From the ruins, the man emerged, shaking off debris from his coat. A small trail of blood dripped from his forehead, but his expression remained as sharp as ever.


    "This thing''s starting to become a real pain in the ass."


    Before he could finish his sentence, the ?¨±nyayoma had already closed the distance, looming above him with all four arms raised. With a monstrous roar, it brought them down in a devastating overhead slam.


    But the man didn''t flinch.


    Karmic Blade Art: Karmic Ripple.


    The moment the beast''s attack connected with his blade, a terrifying shockwave rippled outward. All the force the ?¨±nyayoma had gathered was redirected straight back at it.


    An instant later, all four of its arms exploded in a burst of flesh and black ichor. Half of its head was obliterated as well, leaving it staggering backward, shrieking in mindless agony.


    But even with such injuries, it didn''t fall.


    Pralaya watched, dumbfounded. A normal ?¨±nyayoma would have died instantly from that. But this wasn''t just any ?¨±nyayoma¡ªit was a Forsaken.


    The creature''s severed limbs convulsed violently, black tendrils sprouting from the wounds. Within seconds, its lost arms regrew, this time looking even more grotesque¡ªlonger, sharper, more monstrous. Its torn face twisted unnaturally, reconstructing itself into something even more nightmarish.


    "Regeneration?" the man muttered, his eyes narrowing.


    The ?¨±nyayoma didn''t give him time to react. It flapped its wings, sending razor-sharp gusts of compressed karmic energy straight at him.


    The man swung his blade in a fluid arc.


    Karmic Blade Art: Devouring Wind.


    His sword sliced through the wind blades, dispersing them into harmless particles. But the moment he did, the ?¨±nyayoma appeared above him, its massive foot crashing down.


    Shit!


    The impact shattered the ground. The man barely dodged in time, rolling to the side as the creature lunged again, attacking relentlessly.


    The fight escalated into a brutal exchange¡ªflashes of steel and surges of karmic energy clashing over and over. The ?¨±nyayoma struck like a berserk beast, using its overwhelming size and regeneration to wear its opponent down. Meanwhile, the man countered with precise, devastating techniques, exploiting every opening.


    But Pralaya noticed something.


    The longer the fight dragged on, the more the man slowed down. Even if he was overpowering the ?¨±nyayoma, his movements weren''t as sharp as before. His breathing grew heavier. His wounds¡ªthough small¡ªwere adding up.


    And then it happened.


    The ?¨±nyayoma suddenly stopped attacking. Instead, it opened its monstrous mouth wide, its karmic energy surging to an unimaginable level.


    It was preparing to unleash an ultra-concentrated Dreos blast¡ªone strong enough to wipe out an entire city block.


    The man''s expression darkened.


    "Tch... This can''t be good.


    The ?¨±nyayoma released the attack.


    A colossal beam of pure destruction erupted from its mouth, consuming everything in its path. The heat was so intense that the air itself ignited. Buildings melted into slag. The ground turned into molten lava.


    And the man was swallowed by the explosion.


    Pralaya''s heart stopped.


    The entire battlefield was engulfed in fire and smoke, a massive crater left in its wake. The shockwave sent Pralaya tumbling backward. His ears rang. His vision blurred.


    He''s¡­ gone?


    "No way¡­" Pralaya muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He stumbled to his feet, scanning the destruction desperately. "That can''t be it. He can''t be¡ª"


    Then¡ª


    The ground shook violently.


    A deep, resonating hum filled the air.


    Suddenly, the temperature skyrocketed.


    The very air distorted from the sheer heat, making it unbearable to breathe. The rubble around the impact site melted into glowing embers. Cracks formed in the ground, spreading outward like a growing inferno.


    And then¡ª


    A figure rose from the flames.


    The blade in his hand was rusting, marked with a bunch of burns as if it had just been plunged into intense heat.


    The heat intensified, reaching levels that no human should survive. The ?¨±nyayoma flinched, for the first time sensing something far beyond its comprehension.


    The man lifted his blade.


    And he smiled.