"I was expecting more from you."
The words hit like a punch.
I didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, staring into his eyes, feeling something burn inside me.
Mukund grabbed my arm. Ruchi grabbed the other.
They pulled me away.
I kept staring at Samarth as they dragged me out. He didn't look away either.
The door closed behind us.
We walked home in silence.
Mukund and Ruchi didn't say anything. What was there to say?
I failed.
And the whole world knew whose son I was.
walking in silence. Head down. Eyes on the ground. The image of that burned dummy burned in my mind.
Mukund wouldn't let me sulk.
"Hey, Rag." He bumped my shoulder. "Don't be upset. So you didn't pass one test. There are other ways to prove your worth."
Ruchi jumped in. "Yeah! There are other good groups. Like Udyama!"
I kept walking.
"The leader is S+," she continued. "And he seemed really friendly when we saw him. Maybe he could help us."
I stopped.
Looked at them.
They looked at me. Hopeful. Supportive. Not giving up on me even when I'd given up on myself.
I sighed. "Okay. If you guys say so."
Mukund pulled out his tablet—the one the Gurukul had given us. He searched for Udyama group headquarter.
"The location is..." He blinked. "A private gym?"
Ruchi leaned over to look. "Owned by Trayaksh himself."
We looked at each other. A gym? An S+ rank YODHA owns a gym?
Makes sense, I thought. Guy's built like a warrior.
We followed the map.
The gym was nice. Clean. Modern. Smelled like sweat and effort. A few people exercised on machines, lost in their own worlds.
We found Trayaksh in the free weights section.
He was on a bench press. And the barbell—
"Forty kilos each side," Mukund whispered, counting the plates. "That's... a lot."
Prayan stood behind the bench, spotting him. Silent. Focused. His hands—the same hands that had caught Samarth's blades—were ready to catch the bar if needed.
Trayaksh pushed. Grunted. Finished the rep.
Prayan helped him rack the barbell.
Trayaksh sat up, breathing hard, exhausted. Then I noticed something as a focused on his forearms, I saw it—
A Shiv ji tattoo on his forearm. Trishul. Damru. The whole thing.
In Gurukul, it was always covered, I realized. Under his hoodie. We never saw it.
He noticed us.
His face broke into a smile. "Hey! Why are you three standing there? Come here!"
We walked over.
He grabbed a towel, wiped his face. "Are you here to join my group?"
We nodded.
"Okay." He thought for a second. "Be at the Gurukul training ground at... uh... 4 AM."
We blinked.
"Okay," Ruchi said.
"4 AM," Mukund repeated, like he was writing it in his brain.
I kept my face still.
But inside: 4 AM?! EVEN THE GURUKUL STARTS AT 9! IS HE CRAZY?!
I smiled awkwardly. Nodded.
Trayaksh grinned. "At the ground, I'll take your test. Get a good sleep tonight, okay?"
We nodded again.
He turned back to the bench. Prayan loaded more weight.
We left.
That night, I set every alarm I owned.
Phone. Tablet. The old clock on my shelf. I even asked Mukund to call me in the morning.
I was NOT missing this.
The next morning, the alarm hit like a brick.
My body screamed. My blanket hugged me. The world outside was dark and cold and wrong.
But I got up.
Somehow.
The ground was empty.
Completely empty.
Cold. Foggy. The kind of morning where you could see your breath and feel it freeze.
Mukund and Ruchi were already there, standing and waiting. I joined them, shivering.
Two other guys stood nearby.
One had long black hair—not super long, but down to his shoulders. Pale white skin. Standing perfectly still, like he was meditating.
The other I recognized immediately. The PE teacher's son. Pratapavat's kid. The one who'd finished all those exercises yesterday without breaking a sweat.
They're here for the test too, I realized.
Footsteps.
Trayaksh and Prayan came running out of the fog, circling the track. Easy pace. Jogging. Breathing steady.
They saw us and slowed down.
"Why are you standing?" Trayaksh called out. "You're a little late, but no problem. Start running!"
We froze.
Ruchi's voice came out small: "But... what about our test?"
Trayaksh stopped. Tilted his head.
"Test? Oh yeah!" He laughed. "Well, basically, you've already passed."
Our jaws dropped.
"Ten students came to me wanting to join my group," he explained. "I told all of them to meet me here early morning. Only five of you showed up."
He spread his hands.
"That was the test."
We stared at him.
That was it? my mind screamed. Showing up?!
Trayaksh grinned. "Now start running. I want at least five rounds."
He and Prayan took off again, faster this time.
We ran.
They were fast.
Not sprinting—just jogging. But their jog was faster than our sprint. We pushed and pushed, but they stayed ahead, always ahead, like we were standing still.
Somehow—I don't know how—we finished five rounds.
They finished ten.
Trayaksh stretched his arms, not even breathing hard. "Well, that was a nice warmup."
Warmup?
Pratapavat's son nodded. "I already knew this kind of training. My father..."
He didn't need to finish.
We stumbled into the gym, exhausted.
Trayaksh clapped his hands. "Alright! Let's begin our pull day! Prayan!"
Prayan nodded. Silent. Ready.
Trayaksh showed us around. Explained the exercises. Showed us what we'd be doing.
Pull day.
I'd never been to a gym in my life. Not once. Every exercise was new. Every movement felt wrong. My muscles screamed. My form broke. Weights that looked tiny felt like mountains.
Next to me, Trayaksh lifted with ease. Fluidity. Power.
And Prayan... the weights he handled looked like kids' toys.
These guys are monsters, I thought.
Trayaksh finished a set and sat down near me.
I was struggling with a cable row, face red, arms shaking.
He watched for a moment. Then spoke.
"You did good today."
I nearly fell off the machine.
More people entered the gym.
Some I didn't recognize. Some looked older—fourth years, maybe. They moved with confidence. Experienced. Skilled. Their Prana felt different from ours—stronger, steadier, like rivers that had been flowing for years.
And then I saw a familiar face.
Akshat.
The human guy from combat training. The one with no patterns. The one who'd taught us meditation.
He spotted us and smiled.
"Hey, Trayaksh." He walked over, nodding at our exhausted group. "Are these the new first-year members?"
Trayaksh grinned. Nodded.
Akshat looked us over. His eyes lingered on each face—assessing, maybe. Then he nodded, satisfied.
"Good. We need more young blood."
After we finished the exercises—after I'd nearly died on the last set—Trayaksh lined us up.
"Alright, new members." He stood in front of us, arms crossed. "Introduce yourselves. Name, power, and what you want to achieve here."
He pointed at the first guy.
Pratapavat's son stepped forward. Confident. Built. Exactly what you'd expect from the PE teacher's kid.
"My name is Prabhave." His voice was steady. "I'm in first year. My father is Pratapavat—the Gurukul PE teacher. And my brother..." He glanced at Prayan. "My brother is Prayan bhaiya."
Prayan's face didn't move. But something in his eyes softened. Just a little.
"I have super strength," Prabhave continued. "Like my dad. Like my bhaiya. And one day... I want to become strong. A great YODHA. Just like my father."
Trayaksh nodded. "Cool. Clear goal."
I stared at Prayan. So Prayan is also the PE teacher's son. That's why he's so strong. Super strength runs in the family.
Next was the pale kid. Long black hair. Quiet. Still.
He stepped forward slowly. When he spoke, his voice was so low we had to lean in.
"My name is Harsh."
He paused.
"I have the power to manipulate snakes."
Something moved under his shirt.
A snake—small, White skin and green eyes—crawled up his skin, slid out from his collar, and wrapped around his neck. It flicked its tongue at us.
Everyone froze.
RUCHI SCREAMED.
She jumped—literally jumped—onto the nearest bench, pressing herself against the wall, eyes wide with terror.
The snake stared at her.
Harsh looked at her, then at the snake, then back at her. His expression didn't change.
"Oh. Sorry." He patted the snake gently. "My friend didn't mean to scare you."
FRIEND?!
Ruchi stayed on the bench, shaking.
Harsh continued, voice still low: "I'm also in first year. My goal... is to become a YODHA leader one day."
Trayaksh smiled. "Nice. Ambitious."
The snake curled back under Harsh's shirt. Ruchi didn't come down.
Mukund stepped forward next. Calm. Collected. Like nothing fazed him.
"I'm Mukund." He adjusted his glasses. "I have the power of ice. And my goal is to become a great YODHA. Like my father."
Trayaksh nodded, listening. Paying attention to every word.
A fourth-year girl—someone I didn't know—gently helped Ruchi down from the bench. Ruchi's face was still pale, but she managed a weak smile of thanks.
Then she stepped forward.
"I'm Ruchi." Her voice shook a little, but she pushed through. "My power is flower healing. I want to become a great YODHA. And a doctor. Just like my dad."
Trayaksh smiled warmly. "Healing is rare. And valuable. Good goal."
Finally, it was my turn.
I stepped forward. Opened my mouth.
"I'm Rag—"
Brrrring.
Trayaksh's phone.
He glanced at it. Frowned. Looked up at us.
"I have to leave. Urgent thing." He was already moving toward the door. "Introduce yourself to the others. And the members here will introduce themselves to you."
He was gone before anyone could respond.
I stood there, mouth open, introduction half-finished.
Well, I thought. That happened.
I turned to the others. "Uh. I'm Rag."
The members introduced themselves.
Akshat stepped forward first. "We already met at the training area, but still." He smiled. "I'm Akshat. Fourth year. A+ rank."
He paused.
"My tier is None."
Everyone gasped.
None? A+ rank with no tier? That meant he was human. Completely human. No elemental powers. No inherited gifts. Just... pure skill.
A normal human reaching A+ rank was unheard of. Impossible, almost.
And yet here he stood.
"Impressive," Mukund whispered.
I couldn't agree more.
Next, a guy stepped forward who looked older than the other fourth years. Rough. Seasoned. Strapped to his back was a massive metal blade—easily as big as me.
He spoke, voice deep: "Myself Bhakti. Fourth year. S- rank. Tier 3."
Another gasp.
Tier 3 in S rank? That shouldn't be possible. Tier 3 was supposed to be limited—attack, defense, or support, not all three. But here was proof that hard work could overcome limits.
"My power," Bhakti continued, "is that I can switch the positions of two objects."
He demonstrated—picked up a water bottle from one table, and suddenly it was on another table across the room. The bottle that had been there was now in his hand.
I blinked. That could be deadly in a fight.
Prayan stepped forward next.
He rarely spoke. I'd seen him catch blades, spot Trayaksh, stand silently in the background. But now he opened his mouth.
Deep voice. Rough. Like he didn't use it often.
"Myself Prayan. Fourth year. S rank. Tier 2."
He glanced at Prabhave.
"Like my little brother... I have super strength."
That was it. Short. Simple. He stepped back.
But hearing him speak felt important. Like we'd been given something rare.
Finally, a girl stepped forward. Long black hair. Big round glasses that made her look like a scholar.
"Hello." Her voice was soft. "I'm Aavira. Fourth year. S rank. Tier 2. My power is telekinesis."
She lifted a nearby weight with her mind—no hands, no effort. Just a glance, and it floated.
"My goal," she added, "is to understand how powers really work. Not just use them."
She put the weight down gently.
Akshat clapped his hands. "Well, many members didn't arrive today. But you'll meet them soon enough."
He glanced at a clock on the wall.
"For now, though... it's almost time for class. Better get ready."
Class.
Right.
Another day of torture.
I looked at Mukund. He looked at Ruchi. She was still slightly pale from the snake incident.
We all had the same thought:
This is our life now.