A low tide dusk.
The mangroves of Sundarban stretched endlessly behind Amod, heavy with shadows shaped like fangs. The air was thick with humidity, and every few heartbeats, the water slapped against roots like the pulse of some giant beast.
Amod stood alone on a raised patch of ground, spear in hand, chest bare except for the woven forest-tribal band that crossed diagonally from shoulder to waist. His muscles, though not bulky, held a lithe sharpness — the kind forged from climbing trees, outrunning storms, and wrestling with nature itself.
He should've looked like a stray teenager.
Instead, he looked like the beginning of a legend.
His eyes flicked to the left.
A rustling.
Then to the right.
Another rustling.
Something had been following him for weeks.
Not beast.
Not man.
Not spirit.
Something above those.
"You again," Amod muttered under his breath, voice cool. "Whoever you are… you're terrible at hiding."
He smiled faintly — cunning, amused, provocative.
Amod never sounded like a boy.
He sounded like someone who knew the forest would kneel if he ordered.
A distant voice, ancient and soft, stirred through the leaves.
Amod… you've grown sharper.
Amod's eyebrow twitched.
He heard nothing audible.
Yet his bones felt an echo — a whisper behind the ribs.
"Show yourself," he said, voice steady but eyes gleaming with challenge.
"I don't like prey that runs after stalking for so long."
He knew perfectly well he was the prey.
But his pride…
refused to play that role.
---
II. Banesh — The God Who Is Afraid of His Own Husband
High above, crouched in the twisted arms of a mangrove, Banesh watched the boy he once carried out of the flood.
But this teenager…
was no longer the soft, trembling child pressed against his chest.
He was becoming Hemketu again — slowly, unconsciously.
Ruthless aura.
Undeniable charisma.
The frightening command in silence.
Banesh's fingers tightened around the branch until the bark cracked like bone.
He whispered to the air, barely containing the tremor:
"Don't look at me like that…
Amod."
When Amod had turned his head seconds ago — sharply, exactly like his past-life self — Banesh's breath had seized.
Not because of fear.
Because of recognition so deep it nearly broke him.
But he dared not show himself.
Amod was awakening too fast.
Too fiercely.
If Banesh approached now, the boy might instinctively tear him apart — not out of hatred but pure, wild divine instinct.
Still, Banesh's form flickered — almost appearing.
Maybe… maybe this time he won't push me away…
Amod spoke suddenly, loud enough for the trees to hear:
"If you keep hiding, I'll consider you a coward."
Banesh froze.
Amod chuckled — low, knowing, dangerous.
"Oh? You didn't like that, did you?"
Banesh's heart dropped.
This little…!
Even without memories, Amod still knew how to play with him.
Still knew how to provoke, tease, corner —
just like Hemketu did for centuries in heaven.
Banesh whispered:
"You are… impossible."
---
III. The First Mindplay
Amod stepped forward, the tide swirling around his ankles.
"I'll count to three," he declared to the empty air.
"If you don't show yourself, I'll burn this entire patch of mangrove. Let's see where you hide then."
Banesh almost choked.
This brat really—?!
His tone was calm.
Not a threat.
A fact.
"One," Amod began, raising his hand.
The air warped. The tide hesitated.
Banesh hissed, "Amod! Stop—"
Amod's lips curled.
"So you can speak."
The trees around them shook.
Banesh realized with a sickening awe —
the boy wasn't bluffing.
He could burn the area.
Even untrained.
Even half-awakened.
Amod tilted his head, voice softer now, almost coaxing:
"If you're not an enemy… why hide?"
Banesh's shadow-twin form rippled behind him, torn between approaching and fleeing.
"Because…" Banesh murmured, "…you're not ready."
Amod laughed — a beautiful, sharp, disbelieving sound.
"Not ready? I've outgrown this entire forest."
He stabbed the spear into the earth.
Roots trembled all the way to the river.
"Come out," he ordered quietly.
"Or I'll drag you out myself."
Banesh swallowed.
Gods of heaven had once trembled before Hemketu.
Now Banesh realized…
He, too, would soon tremble before Amod.
---
IV. The Reveal Begins
The wind stopped.
The leaves halted mid-sway.
Amod's pupils narrowed — sensing divine pressure.
And Banesh — the ancient, fallen, once-respected Gahana-Dev — finally stepped from the shadows in a slow, graceful reveal…