"I am Trayaksh. Fourth year. S+ rank YODHA."
His hand reached up. Touched the headwrap—the tripundra he always wore.
And he removed it.
The third eye was right there.
Center of his forehead. Closed. Like a sleeping beast.
Then it opened.
Black. Pure black. The iris turned red—blood red—and it stared.
Straight at Rag.
Through Rag.
Into Rag's soul.
"I have the power," Trayaksh said quietly, "to copy any power."
His black eye didn't blink.
"Agni Anukarana..."
A mantra. Sanskrit. Ancient.
His hands burst into flames.
Not normal flames—familiar flames. Rag's flames. The same color. The same heat. The same feeling.
Trayaksh swept his hand through the air. Flames followed. Traced a shape. A bow—a bow made entirely of fire, just like—
He pulled the string.
An arrow materialized. Flames. Perfect. Deadly.
Rag couldn't breathe.
That was his brother's technique. Ayansh's famous move. The fire bow. No one else could do it. No one.
And Trayaksh just... did it.
Like it was nothing.
Like he'd always known how.
Rag was mesmerized.
The flames. The bow. The arrow. The power.
It felt like his brother was standing there.
But—
He glanced at Mukund.
Mukund's face was pale. White as paper. His eyes were wide—not with awe.
With fear.
Ruchi too. She was gripping the swing chains so hard her knuckles were white. Her whole body was trembling.
They weren't looking at the fire.
They were looking at the eye.
The third eye.
The black void staring at them.
Trayaksh lowered the bow. The flames died.
He looked at Mukund. At Ruchi.
Then back at Rag.
His third eye closed. The headwrap went back on. The friendly smile returned.
But it was different now.
They'd seen underneath.
Trayaksh placed his hand on Rag's head.
"Wow. I was expecting this reaction from you."
Rag blinked. Then he realized.
Mukund and Ruchi were pale. Terrified. Backing away.
The eye. The Asura power. They think he's—
"Yeah, yeah." Trayaksh waved a hand dismissively. "I'm an Asura. I have three eyes. Copying power. I'll eat you all."
He stepped closer.
They stepped back.
He stepped closer again, a grin spreading across his face.
"Your terrified faces are PRICELESS."
Rag's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Trayaksh laughed—actually laughed—and stepped back, giving them space.
"So, Rag. Next question, please."
Rag's brain was short-circuiting.
What is he doing in Dharti Lok? Does everyone know his true identity? How did he copy my bhaiya's unique technique so easily? Why do other 4th years hate him? Why do teachers respect him? Why—
Trayaksh reached out and gently closed Rag's mouth.
"I know your questions."
He turned. Pointed.
Toward the statue of fallen YODHAs. The great war memorial. The stone faces of heroes who died.
He pointed at the center figure—Viraj. Rag's father.
Then he moved his finger. To the woman carved beside him.
"Do you see her?"
Rag nodded.
"The previous co-leader of the YODHAs. Diti." Trayaksh's voice was quiet. "I'm her son."
Rag's mind exploded.
Diti. The legendary four-eyed copy user. Mom told me about her. She was one of the strongest YODHAs of her generation. But she never mentioned—she never said she had—
Trayaksh sat down on the grass in front of them. Cross-legged. Relaxed. Like he was about to tell a bedtime story.
He sighed.
"You guys know about the peace treaty? Twenty-seven years before the great war?"
Mukund found his voice first. "Yeah. I've heard about it. The previous Asura king signed a peace treaty with the wind-user YODHA leader of that time."
"Yup." Trayaksh nodded. "And the previous Asura king?" He pointed at himself. "Was my nanu(maternal grandfather)."
Ruchi dropped her popcorn.
No way.
No. Way.
Trayaksh continued, voice steady.
"When my mom grew up—turned fourteen—my nanu decided to make her a YODHA. She had the legendary four eyes, after all. She came here. Same Gurukul. Same classes."
He smiled faintly.
"She met my dad here. He was just a Tier None human. No powers at all. But he was smart. Really smart. And he proposed to her in fourth year."
Mukund was still frozen. Processing.
But Rag and Ruchi?
They were leaning forward. Eyes wide. Popcorn forgotten.
"When he was young, he became a well-known scientist. And he married my mom."
Silence.
Mukund finally looked at his friends—and blinked.
Rag and Ruchi were sitting cross-legged now. Ruchi had somehow produced more popcorn from nowhere. They were both staring at Trayaksh like he was a storyteller at a village fair.
Mukund's eye twitched.
Trayaksh noticed. Laughed.
He continued.
"When I was born... I don't have many memories of Nanu. But he used to say I was a legendary copy user." He touched his forehead. "Because I have an eye in the middle. Like Shiv ji."
Silence.
"For twenty-seven years, both Patal Lok and Prithvi Lok developed. Peace( not completely). Progress. Then..."
His voice darkened.
"The great war. No one expected it. No one was ready."
He looked at the statue.
"The one who defeated my nanu. Who killed countless YODHAs. Who killed my mother... and my father..."
He paused.
"He called himself KALI."
Rag and Ruchi whispered together:
"Iska absolute cinema."
Mukund wanted to hit them both.
Trayaksh smiled sadly.
"He's the one behind everything. The portals. The attacks. The destruction our generation keeps facing."
Rag's mind was racing.
Okay. Okay. This explains... everything?
The other 4th years calling him cheater—because he can copy powers. In exams, he could copy the smartest kid. In training, he could copy any technique. They think he doesn't earn anything.
But that doesn't explain—
"Trayaksh bhaiya." Rag spoke. "It still doesn't explain how you copied Ayansh bhaiya's technique. Copy Asuras can copy powers—but not mastery. Not unique techniques."
Mukund nodded, slowly relaxing. "Yeah. I researched. Copy users can replicate the power, but not the skill behind it."
Trayaksh looked at them. Something warm in his eyes.
"Wow. You actually researched and know about it."
He looked down. Took a deep breath.
"Since childhood... there was no one to teach me. No one to explain my power. When I was six, I could only use one eye due to my mothers and nanu's guidance. Just basic copying. Then my mom, father and nanu died. There was no one."
He paused.
"But when I was in eighth grade—about five years ago—I met Ayansh bhaiya. He was in fourth year then."
Rag's breath caught.
"He trained me. For two years. He taught me how to control my power. How to push my limits."
Trayaksh looked at his hands.
"I never got a second eye. Still only have one. But I learned his technique. His mastery. And I pushed my copying duration from four hours..."
He smiled.
"...to one full day."
Silence.
Rag stared at him.
Ayansh bhaiya. My brother. He trained Trayaksh. For two years.
That's why his Prana felt familiar. That's why he knew my father. That's why—
Trayaksh looked at him.
"So now you know."
Rag opened his mouth. Closed it.
Ruchi whispered, "That's... actually really sweet."
The story ended.
Silence hung in the park. Heavy. Full of things none of them knew how to say.
Trayaksh broke it first.
"Hey."
Everyone looked at him.
"I heard from Bhakti that your parents don't allow you to stay in the hostel."
Three nods. Perfectly synchronized. Like they'd practiced.
"Okay." Trayaksh stood up, dusting off his clothes. "Maybe I can convince them." He glanced at the darkening sky. "It's still 6:45. If I talk to them now, you could pack tonight."
He turned.
"Come."
They looked at each other. Then stood. Followed.
The walk was quiet at first. Streetlights flickered on one by one. The city was settling into evening.
Rag's mind wouldn't stop spinning.
Trayaksh bhaiya. Diti's son. Asura king's grandson. Trained by Ayansh . Loved by his team. Hated by his batchmates.
And he's walking us home like it's nothing.
"Trayaksh bhaiya?"
Trayaksh glanced back.
"Why do you own a gym?"
Trayaksh's steps didn't falter. But a small smile crossed his face.
"Huh." He looked ahead. "Well. My parents—after serving nine, ten years as scientist and YODHA—they had enough money to bought a big house and built wealth."
He paused.
"After they died... it was more practical to sell it. Too big for a six-year-old. Too much maintenance."
Rag's chest tightened.
"So I sold it. Used the money to live in the hostel near gurukul. And when I was older..." He shrugged. "I opened a gym. For me and my friends to train."
Everyone gasped softly.
Twelve years alone. From age six. Living in a hostel. Building a life.
And now he helps them.
They reached a familiar gate.
Rag's house.
Trayaksh stopped. Looked at it. Something soft in his eyes.
"This is your house, Rag?"
"Yeah. But how did you—"
"When I was little, I used to come here with my mom." Trayaksh's voice was quiet. "Still looks the same."
Rag stared at him.
His mom. Diti. Came here. With him. When he was little.
She knew my mother.
Trayaksh rang the bell.
The gate swung open.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT—"
Rag's mother stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes locked on Trayaksh.
"Um... excuse me, who are—"
Trayaksh smiled. Small. Hopeful.
"Samrithi Aunty. Have you forgotten me?"
She stared.
A moment.
Two.
Then—
"T... Trayaksh?"
"Namaste, Aunty."
He bent to touch her feet.
She grabbed him before he could. Pulled him into a hug. Tight. Desperate.
"It's YOU, Trayaksh!"
"Aunty—can't—breathe—"
She released him. Held him at arm's length. Hands on his face. Tears already forming.
"Look at you. You've grown so much. I remember when you were six—"
Trayaksh's face went pink. "Yeah, yeah, Aunty. Tiny baby. I know."
She laughed. Wet. Happy.
"You were so shy back then—"
"Aunty." Trayaksh's voice was gentle but firm and his face was still pink. "I-- I have something important to discuss. About Rag--"
Rag's mother stopped laughing.
Her face crumpled.
"I'm so sorry, beta." Tears spilled over. "I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't be there for you. In your hard time. I was so busy... managing my own family I completely forgot about you. Even though Diti and I were so close..."
Trayaksh stepped forward. Raised a hand. Wiped her tears.
"Don't cry , Aunty." His smile was warm. Genuine. "I've learned to take care of myself."
Rag felt something sting behind his eyes.
Mukund looked away, jaw tight.
Ruchi sniffled.
They all went inside.
The living room was warm. Familiar. Rag's mother served tea. Sat down. Looked at Trayaksh like she was seeing a ghost.
"So he was with you the whole time?"
"Yup." Trayaksh nodded. "But I'm here to ask you something."
"Anything, beta. Anything at all. Don't hesitate."
"It's about Rag."
He explained. Udyama. His group. The training. The early mornings. The potential he saw in Rag.
And then—
"I want your permission to let him stay in the hostel."
Silence.
Rag's mother looked at Rag. Then at Trayaksh. Then at the floor.
"The hostel..."
"Yes, Aunty. Six minutes from Gurukul. He'll be with us—his group members. We'll look after him. Make sure he eats. Wakes up on time. Trains properly."
He leaned forward.
"I know you worry. I know you love him. But he needs this. To grow. To become who he's meant to be."
Rag's mother closed her eyes.
Long moment.
When she opened them, she was looking at Rag.
"You want this?"
Rag nodded. Didn't trust his voice.
She looked at Trayaksh.
"You'll take care of him?"
"I will, Aunty. On my mother's name."
Another long pause.
Then—
"Okay."
Rag's heart stopped.
"Okay?"
"Okay." His mother stood. Wiped her eyes again. "Pack your things. If you're going to be a YODHA, you need to learn to stand on your own."
Rag didn't move.
Mukund elbowed him.
He shot up. "Thank you, Mom!"
He hugged her. She hugged back.
Then she looked at Trayaksh.
"If anything happens to him..."
"Nothing will, Aunty. I promise."
She nodded. Sat down. Picked up her tea like nothing had happened.
"Now go. Before I change my mind."
Rag's house was done. His mother stood at the gate, watching them leave with something between pride and worry in her eyes.
But there were two more houses to visit.
Ruchi's House
The walk to Ruchi's was short. Her house was smaller than Rag's—cozy, with flower pots lining the windows and a faint smell of herbs in the air.
Trayaksh rang the bell.
The door swung open.
Ruchi's father stood there—a man in his forties, kind eyes, hands that looked gentle but strong and a Yodha pattern on her neck. He was still wearing his doctor's coat, half-removed, like he'd just gotten home.
"Yes? How can I—"
He stopped.
Stared at Trayaksh.
Then—
"Trayaksh?"
Trayaksh smiled. "Namaste, Uncle."
Ruchi's father's face broke into the biggest grin any of them had ever seen. He grabbed Trayaksh in a hug that lifted him slightly off the ground.
"Look at you! Last time I saw you, you were this tall!" He held a hand at chest level. "And now look! A proper YODHA!"
Ruchi stared. "Dad... you KNOW him?"
"Know him?" Her father laughed, setting Trayaksh down. "I patched him up at least twenty times during his early years! Kid never knew when to stop training." He ruffled Trayaksh's hair. "Cuts, bruises, once a dislocated shoulder—he'd just smile and say 'That's nothing, Uncle!'"
Trayaksh rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I was... enthusiastic."
"Enthusiastic!" Ruchi's father laughed again. "Come in, come in! Your mother will want to see this!"
Inside, Ruchi's mother appeared from the kitchen. She took one look at Trayaksh and dropped the spoon she was holding.
"TRAYAKSH?"
More hugging. More stories.
By the time Trayaksh explained why he was there, Ruchi's parents didn't even hesitate.
"The hostel? Of course! She needs to learn independence." Her father nodded. "And with you watching over her? Done."
Ruchi's jaw dropped. "That's IT? That's all it took?"
Her mother kissed her forehead. "Beta, when someone like Trayaksh vouches for you, you listen."
Mukund's House
Mukund's house was the opposite of Ruchi's. Quiet. Organized. Everything in its place.
His father opened the door—newspaper in one hand, glasses on his nose. The exact image of Mukund in thirty years.
He looked at Trayaksh.
Trayaksh looked at him.
"Mukund's friend?"
"Trayaksh, Uncle. Fourth year. S+ rank."
Mukund's father raised an eyebrow. Removed his glasses. Looked closer.
"You're Diti's son."
"Yes, Uncle."
A long pause. Then Mukund's father stepped aside.
"Come in."
The conversation was different here. Less hugging, more... respect. Mukund's father listened as Trayaksh explained. Asked sharp questions. Nodded at the answers.
"Well I'm quite impress. Improving your rank from S- to S+ I have heard its pretty tough. When we were on a mission I remmeber you were S- right?"
"Yes uncle."
Mukund's father was quiet for a moment.
Then he looked at Mukund.
"You want this?"
Mukund nodded. Didn't flinch.
His father turned back to Trayaksh.
"He's always been serious. Focused. But he needs to learn that the world isn't just books and plans." He paused. "You'll teach him that?"
"I'll try, Uncle."
Another pause.
Then—"Okay."
Mukund blinked. "That's it?"
His father put his glasses back on. Opened his newspaper. "He has a good reputation. Better than most adults I know. If he says you'll be safe, you'll be safe."
Mukund looked at Trayaksh with new eyes.
Outside – 9 PM
They stood on the street. All three houses visited. All three parents convinced.
The night was cool. Stars were appearing. The city hummed softly around them.
Trayaksh stretched. "All set. Now go pack your things. Tomorrow, 4 AM. I want all of you at the hostel with your stuff. And from tomorrow..."
He grinned.
"Your real training begins."
They nodded. But Mukund and Ruchi exchanged a look.
Then together:
"Trayaksh bhaiya... how did you convince them? We tried for WEEKS and they never listened!"
Trayaksh sighed. Rubbed the back of his neck.
"Okay. You know how ranks work, right?"
They nodded.
"After your rank is decided—S+, S, A, whatever—the YODHA leaders select students. Based on performance. Based on tier. Based on potential."
He looked at them.
"They send those students on actual missions. With real YODHAs. To gain real battle experience."
Everyone gasped.
"I didn't know that was a rule," Ruchi whispered.
"Most students don't. Not until they're chosen." Trayaksh shrugged. "I've been on several missions. Worked with your parents—Ruchi's dad in the medical corps, Mukund's dad in strategy planning. They've seen what I can do. They know my rank. My potential."
He smiled.
"That's why they trust me."
Rag stared at him.
Man... how famous IS he?
Too be continued....