Below them, the city froze.
Men carrying sacks of grain stopped mid-step. Merchants at their stalls lifted their heads, eyes widening. Women drawing water from wells froze with their pots half-lifted. Children playing in the streets looked up, mouths open in wonder and fear.
The shadow of the chariot passed overhead.
And everywhere it went, people stopped breathing.
The seven horses flew across the sky like living sunlight, and their golden glow reflected off rooftops, off temple domes, off the polished stones of the main road leading straight to the palace.
Whispers rose instantly.
"Is that… a flying chariot?"
"It's glowing."
"Who is inside?"
"Is this the end?"
Even the guards on the city walls stumbled back in panic, gripping spears with shaking hands. Some fell to their knees without even understanding why, as if their bodies recognized divinity before their minds could.
The chariot did not slow.
It moved straight toward the palace.
***
The palace of Mathura rose like a beast made of stone.
Tall walls, thick gates, watchtowers bristling with archers. Flags bearing Kamsa's emblem fluttered angrily in the wind. The palace guards rushed into formation as soon as they saw the golden light approaching.
Shouts erupted.
"Archers!"
"Raise the bows!"
"Protect the palace!"
Rows of soldiers gathered in the courtyard. Archers drew their strings tight, aiming upward. Their hands trembled, sweat dripping down their brows as they tried to find a clear target in the sky.
But the chariot hovered too high.
Even if they loosed a thousand arrows, none would reach.
Their bows were ordinary.
Their strength was ordinary.
And Mathura, for all its arrogance, lacked true warriors. No proper rathis. No atirathis. Forget maharathis. Kamsa had never built his strength through the skill of his human army.
His real strength had always been elsewhere.
Rakshasas.
Asuras.
Dark alliances.
Banasura.
Narakasura.
Jarasandha.
His palace had been guarded not by discipline, but by fear.
And now, even that fear was crumbling.
Mrinalini stood beside Karna, eyes cold as she looked down at the soldiers gathering below.
Karna's expression did not change as he stepped forward on the chariot platform and spoke aloud, his words echoing across the entire city like thunder.
"Kamsa!"
The name struck the streets like a slap.
People flinched. Soldiers stiffened. Even the palace gates seemed to tremble.
Karna's voice continued, calm and clear, carrying over rooftops and temples, reaching every ear in Mathura.
"Your son is dead."
A wave of murmurs rose below.
Karna did not pause.
"Your entire asura army that you placed in my path has been destroyed."
The archers below exchanged frightened glances.
Some lowered their bows slightly, as if their hands had suddenly forgotten how to fight.
Karna's gaze remained fixed on the palace. "And as I stated in the letter," he said, his voice sharpening, "I have come to your doorstep for your head."
The city went silent.
Even the birds stopped calling.
Karna raised Vijayadhanush slightly, the golden bow glinting in the sun.
"Now come out," he said. "And face me."
For a while, there was no response.
No gates opened.
No roar came from the palace.
Only silence.
Only the uneasy shifting of soldiers below, the sound of armor clinking, the soft whimpers of frightened servants peeking from behind pillars.
Mrinalini's fingers tightened on the railing.
Her eyes narrowed.
Karna waited a few moments longer.
Then his voice rang out again, colder this time. "I already know you are hiding inside the palace," he said. "I will give you one last chance."
His gaze sharpened as if it could pierce through stone walls. "Come out," he said. "Face your karma like a warrior."
The soldiers below began to panic.
Some looked toward the palace gates. Some looked upward at Karna. Some whispered prayers under their breath. A few even stepped back, as if the ground beneath them had suddenly become unsafe.
Karna's voice lowered, turning deadly. "Or else…" he said, "I will be forced to go through extreme measures."
The words struck fear like poison.
Even the palace guards stiffened.
Mrinalini turned her head slightly, watching Karna's face. She could feel the shift in his aura. He was no longer giving warnings out of patience.
Karna's eyes became serious as he raised Vijayadhanush fully. "You leave me with no choice."
Then he began to chant, invoking the divyastra of the gandharvas.
Karna's voice grew sharper as the mantra reached its end.
"Sammohanastra."
A divine arrow appeared between his fingertips.
Its shaft was golden, but the tip shimmered strangely, as if it wasn't fully part of the physical world. It looked like it existed halfway between reality and dream.
Karna then drew the string back and shot the arrow downward toward the palace roof.
In a few moments, the arrow struck the palace.
But there was no explosion.
No fire.
No crack of thunder.
No smoke.
Instead, the arrow vanished the moment it touched the roof.
It simply disappeared, as if it had never existed.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
The soldiers below stared upward, confused. Some laughed nervously, thinking perhaps the attack had failed. Some whispered that maybe the gods had refused Karna's command.
Then the air changed.
An invisible pulse spread outward from the palace like ripples in water.
The first to fall was a merchant standing in the street, holding a sack of rice.
His eyes blinked once.
Twice.
Then his body swayed and the sack slipped from his fingers. The merchant collapsed face-first onto the stones.
A woman nearby screamed and tried to run to him. But halfway through her step, her knees gave out. She fell beside him, her bangles clinking softly as her arms went limp.
A child playing with a wooden toy froze mid-laugh. His eyes rolled back. He collapsed like a doll dropped from a hand.
Inside homes, mothers holding newborn babies suddenly felt their arms grow weak. The babies went limp in their grasp, unconscious but breathing. The mothers collapsed too, falling against walls, sliding down into stillness.
An old priest standing near a temple gate tried to chant a protective mantra. But his tongue slowed. His lips stopped moving. And he fell to the ground as if the earth had pulled him down.
One after another, the city began to collapse.
People in the streets.
People in their houses.
People on balconies.
People in marketplaces.
From newborn infants to the elderly, every single one of them fell unconscious where they stood.
The palace soldiers were no exception either.
Due to the fact that Kamsa ruled everything in fear, no one is mentally strong enough to resist the effects of Sammohanastra.
In the end, the archers lost their grip on their bows. Spears slipped from hands. Swords clattered onto stone.
Then the soldiers fell.
In moments, the palace courtyard was filled with unconscious bodies.
The gates remained standing, but there was no one left awake to guard them.
At once, Mathura became a city of the sleeping.
***
A few moments ago, deep inside the palace, Kamsa was already moving when Karna was speaking aloud.
He had heard Karna's voice echoing across the city. The words had struck him like arrows. His face had twisted in fury, and he had begun barking orders at servants and guards.
"Prepare the underground route!"
"Summon my allies!"
"Bring my strongest asuras!"
His mind raced.
He had no intention of facing Karna openly.
Not yet.
Not without Banasura.
Not without Jarasandha.
He moved through the corridors quickly, his heavy footsteps echoing against the stone as he made his way toward the secret passage hidden beneath the palace.
But then…
Dizziness struck him at once, all of a sudden.
Kamsa stumbled in his steps and grabbed the wall, snarling, trying to steady himself.
"What is this?" he growled.
His vision blurred, and the corridor spun.
His knees buckled.
He tried to summon his dark power, tried to force his body to resist, but even his asuric blood could not push back the divine fog crawling into his mind.
His breath came in harsh bursts.
And soon, he fell to the floor with a thud.
***
Above the palace, the celestial chariot hovered.
Karna stood still, Vijayadhanush in hand, eyes cold as he looked down at the sleeping city.
Mrinalini stared as well.
The streets below were silent.
No screams.
No running.
No resistance.
Only bodies lying everywhere, as if death had passed through and decided to spare them at the last second.
Mrinalini swallowed. "Is it really righteous to use such a divyastra? I mean, you are capable enough to burst through everyone and enter the palace. What will people think about you?"
Karna did not look away from the palace as he replied seriously. "Do you know why Lord Rama killed Vali in hiding? Do you know why Narayana had to disguise himself as Mohini to tempt the asuras and snatch away the Amrit from them? If you think that's a cowardly act or against the code of conduct… then you really don't understand the meaning of righteousness, Princess. There is a reason that, despite the fact that women are forbidden to fight in a war in this society, I allowed you to come with me. Because when you are protecting dharma… when you are destroying adharma… even cheating becomes dharma, and when you are protecting adharma, then even righteous acts will become adharma. Here, there is no kshatriya or brahmin. Here, there is no man or woman. There is only right and wrong. When Gods themselves don't think about their prestige, why would we think about such things? Let us do our karma to punish the evil and accept whatever fate gives us… whatever the society gives you in return, whether it is a curse, insult, or blessings."
At that, Mrinalini's eyes widened in realization. But she didn't say anything.
Karna then continued, as he took the reins, lowering the chariot to descend to the ground, "Let's go and capture the tyrant of Mathura."