Dev stood atop the crumbling remains of the fortress, the Agnyastra now pulsing with raw power in his grasp. The air was thick with the stench of scorched stone, the echoes of his battle still ringing through the abandoned halls. But as the flames around him settled, another fire ignited—this time, within his mind.

  Memories surged forth, unbidden and relentless. He saw himself once more as a revered warrior among the Brahmānsh, the strongest Astradhari of his time. He had been a protector, a leader, a symbol of what the astras could achieve when wielded with purpose. And yet, despite his unwavering loyalty, they had turned against him.

  His betrayal had not come at the hands of an enemy. No, it had been his own kin—the elders he had once sworn fealty to. They had feared his strength, his potential. The power he had wielded had been unlike anything seen before, and in their fear, they had conspired against him.

  He clenched his fists, feeling the heat of his fury burn through his veins. They had lured him into a false sense of security, made him believe he was destined for greatness within their sacred halls. But when the time had come, they had cast him into the abyss, sealing him away in a prison of time and darkness.

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  The agony of isolation had forged him into something greater. He was no longer the warrior they had exiled. He was reborn in fire and vengeance. He would not be a protector. He would be a conqueror.

  And now, he would make them suffer for what they had done.

  Far across the land, in the sanctum of the Brahmānsh, Guruji sat in deep contemplation. He had felt the tremor in the astral planes, had sensed the storm that was building. Dev was reclaiming his lost power, and soon, he would come for them.

  "We do not have much time," Guruji murmured, turning his gaze toward Shiva. "He is gathering the astras. We must be ready."

  Shiva met his gaze with determination. "Tell me what must be done."

  Guruji sighed. "The astras alone will not stop him. You must go beyond what you know. There is a power that has remained dormant, waiting for the one who is worthy. The Nandi Astra was just the beginning."

  Shiva felt a weight settle upon his shoulders. He had barely begun to grasp the power within himself, and yet, he knew there was no other choice. He would walk the path, no matter how treacherous it may be.

  As Dev stood amidst the ruins of the past, the embers of his vengeance glowing in his eyes, Shiva took his first steps toward the unknown.

  The battle between past and future had begun.