It broke.
Its entire body convulsed—rippling, collapsing, reforming—as if reality itself couldn't decide what shape it was supposed to have. Water twisted into spines, tendrils, wings—none stable, all trembling like a system overloading.
The guardian staggered backward.
For the first time…
it looked unsure.
Zoya squeezed Manraj's hand, grounding him.
"Easy," she breathed. "Don't push too hard—"
Manraj stepped forward anyway.
His light—white, amber, silver—pulsed in jagged waves down his arms. Not smooth, not controlled. Raw. Newborn power barely contained.
Azhar's shadows flared weakly behind them.
"Zoya—don't hold him back," Azhar rasped. "He's not going to survive another pull if we stop him now."
Zoya swallowed.
She released Manraj's hand— but stayed close enough to catch him if he fell.
Manraj lifted his chin toward the entity.
"I'm not your creation," he said, voice shaking but unwavering. "And I'm not your return."
The entity stopped writhing.
It straightened.
Slowly.
Horrifyingly.
Like something mimicking human motion for the first time.
"…You remember," it murmured.
Manraj clenched his jaw.
"Yes."
The entity paused.
Then something twisted across its fluid face—
something almost like a smile.
"Then you understand why you must come home."
Manraj's eyes flickered—not fear, not confusion—
but rage.
"No," he whispered.
"I understand why you were locked away."
The river erupted upward as if struck.
The guardian roared—in anger, not allegiance—and slammed both of its stone arms into the ground. Earth split in spirals, cracks racing outward like roots searching for anchorage.
Azhar stepped between Zoya and the cracks, shadows forming a shaky shield.
"MANRAJ—NOW! BEFORE IT STABILIZES—!"
The entity's body began to shift again—water compressing tighter, denser, forming a more defined shape:
A torso.
Arms.
A head.
A skeletal frame of rippling currents beneath.
Its voice deepened—echoing with a thousand underwater tones:
"IF YOU REMEMBER, THEN YOU KNOW:
THE ROOT DOES NOT RELEASE ITS FIRST CHILD."
Manraj took a step back.
Zoya braced herself.
Azhar's eyes went wide.
Because—
Behind the entity…
the river began draining.
Not outward.
Upward.
Water spiraled into its forming body— feeding it, fortifying it, reshaping it into something more than a being of liquid.
Something with—
bones of hardened water, glowing from inside.
ribs forming like translucent crystal.
limbs elongating into jagged, blade-like structures.
a face splitting into three overlapping layers of flowing liquid, each with a dim white core where eyes should be.
Zoya whispered, horrified:
"It's taking a true form…"
Azhar added, voice thin:
"No… it's taking the form it had before it was sealed."
Manraj exhaled shakily.
"That's what I remember now."
The guardian bowed its massive stone head fully—
deferential, reverent.
Like a servant acknowledging its long-lost monarch.
The newly-formed entity lifted its three-layered head.
Its voice echoed through their bones:
"ERYTH.
FIRST LIGHT OF THE ROOT.
RETURN."
Manraj's chest flared.
His knees nearly buckled.
Zoya grabbed him, steadying him.
"Manraj—NO—stay with me—"
He steadied himself—barely—
and spoke through clenched teeth:
"I said I choose myself!"
The entity's three-layered face distorted.
"THEN I WILL TAKE YOU BROKEN."
It thrust its arm downward.
The riverbank split—
the ground beneath Manraj buckling—
Azhar screaming, "MOVE!"—
But Zoya was already pulling Manraj backward.
A spear of crystallized water slammed into the earth where he had stood, exploding into razor shards.
Manraj gritted his teeth, raising his hand.
The tri-light burst outward again—
but this time, the entity absorbed it.
Drank it.
And its form grew brighter.
Azhar's shadows recoiled in horror.
"Zoya—it's LEARNING his core signature—!"
Zoya's throat tightened.
"Manraj, STOP—it's feeding on your light—!"
Manraj froze—
and his light dimmed abruptly.
He winced as if stabbed internally.
"I can't… shut it off," he rasped.
"It's tied to my memories."
The entity stepped closer, towering, monstrous, beautiful and wrong.
"THEN LET ME TAKE THEM."
It reached for his chest—
Three things happened at once:
Zoya threw herself in front of Manraj.
Azhar hurled his shadows in a spiral.
Manraj screamed:
"NO!"
The tri-light detonated between them—
a shockwave so powerful the guardian staggered backward.
The entity recoiled—
And cracks spread across its newly-formed body.
Zoya shielded Manraj with her whole body, shaking.
Azhar got to his feet, panting, shadows trembling but alive again.
The entity steadied itself.
Its voice was lower, darker.
"IF YOU WILL NOT COME—
THEN YOU WILL BE REMADE."
The air distorted.
The river turned black.
And behind the entity—
The second shape rose from the water.
Zoya's breath caught.
Azhar cursed under his breath.
Manraj whispered:
"…No."
Because the second entity was smaller
but sharper
formed not from water—
but memory.
A perfect silhouette of Manraj himself.
Except—
with hollow eyes
and a core glowing fully white.
The entity hissed:
"IF YOU WILL NOT RETURN—
THEN YOUR ROOT WILL WEAR YOUR SHAPE."
Manraj's memory-double stepped forward.
Alive.
Hollow.
Obedient.
Zoya whispered, stepping in front of him again:
"Manraj… what is that?"
He swallowed hard.
"That's what I was meant to become."