Rohan stepped into the ruins of what once was his home—a place that had echoed with laughter, quiet evenings, and unspoken dreams. Now, it stood in shambles. Walls were broken, the garden scorched, the courtyard stained by battle. The marks of the demon invasion were everywhere, like scars on a memory.
Yet amidst the ruin, one space had remained untouched—as if time itself had protected it.
Rohan's room.
He walked through the charred remains of the outer halls and stepped inside the chamber. The air here was different—gentler, almost sacred. The bed still stood in the corner, its sheets slightly dusted, but whole. The window was cracked, but the sunlight still poured in.
He moved slowly, carefully, carrying Avyaan in his arms, as if afraid the moment would break.
With infinite care, he laid him down upon the bed, adjusting the pillow beneath his head, smoothing his clothes, brushing away the dried blood from his temple with trembling fingers.
Avyaan's face—softened in sleep, no longer twisted in pain—made Rohan's heart ache all over again.
He knelt beside the bed, never taking his eyes off the one he loved. His fingers found Avyaan's hair, running through the strands slowly, patting his head with gentle affection—the way he used to, back when life was simple, before kingdoms and chaos.
"I've got you now," Rohan whispered, voice barely audible, as if it would wake him. "No more pain. No more chains. You're safe."
Rohan sat in silence, the dim sunlight casting soft patterns across Avyaan's peaceful face. Every breath Avyaan took—shallow but steady—was a reassurance that he was still here, still fighting.
But Rohan could feel it.
The golden core within Avyaan was still fragile, barely holding on. Traditional healing wasn't enough. Not this time.
He leaned closer, his hand gently caressing Avyaan's cheek, his eyes filled with the kind of love that had crossed lifetimes and survived destruction. His voice was soft, reverent.
"I won't let you fade," he whispered.
With a slow, gentle movement, Rohan pressed his lips to Avyaan's.
It wasn't a kiss of passion—it was a kiss of devotion, of divine bond. A connection that went beyond the flesh.
As their lips touched, golden light began to flow from Rohan's mouth, passing into Avyaan's. It was not just energy—it was life, memory, love, fragments of Rohan's soul carefully poured into the one who mattered most.
Their breath synced for a moment. The room glowed faintly, as if the universe itself paused to witness the moment.
Rohan's eyes were closed, his hands holding Avyaan's face, pouring all he had into him—without force, without urgency. Just a silent offering: "Come back to me."
And then—
A flicker.
A soft inhale.
Avyaan's eyelids fluttered. His eyes opened slowly, gaze still clouded but searching… until they found the one in front of him.
"Rohan…" he breathed, voice no more than a whisper.
And then, a small smile touched his lips.
Before his body, still too weak, gave in again—his head falling gently to the side, unconscious once more, but no longer in torment.
Rohan exhaled, pressing his forehead against Avyaan's.
"You're still with me," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "That's all I need."
The night passed in stillness, blanketed by the hush of recovery and the quiet hum of hope.
Rohan lay beside Avyaan, their breaths falling into a slow, calming rhythm. The battle scars, the blood, the fire—all of it felt like a distant nightmare now. In that room, in that moment, there was only the warmth of being together again.
When morning light trickled through the cracks of the ruined home, Rohan slowly stirred. He blinked against the golden glow and turned to his side.
There he was—Avyaan, still resting, his features softer, his breathing easier. The sight alone filled Rohan's chest with quiet joy.
He leaned over, brushing a few strands of hair from Avyaan's forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "Sleep a little longer," he whispered. "You've earned it."
He slipped out of bed, pulling the covers a little higher over Avyaan, and quietly stepped out of the room.
Downstairs, however, told a different story.
The kitchen—once warm and lively—was a mess of shattered furniture, broken shelves, and crumbled walls. Dust hung in the air, and the scent of ash lingered.
Rohan stood in the middle of the destruction, his expression unreadable.
Then, with a soft sigh, he raised his hand and gave a simple twist of his fingers.
A gentle wave of golden energy rippled outward from his palm.
Wood reformed itself. Stones floated and found their places. Utensils shimmered back into their rightful spots. Cabinets straightened. Jars filled themselves again. Within seconds, the kitchen—once a ruin—was restored to its former glory, glowing in the morning light as if untouched by war.
Rohan smiled faintly to himself, rolling up his sleeves.
He moved to the hearth, lit it with a touch, and began pulling ingredients together. Fragrant herbs, ripe celestial fruits, and soft grains from the hidden stores.
He wasn't just making a meal.
He was making a home again—for the one who had always been his peace, his reason, his heart.
As the pot simmered and the aroma filled the air, Rohan looked up the stairs, where Avyaan still slept.
"Just a little longer," he murmured. "When you wake… there'll be warmth again."
The warmth of the kitchen wrapped around Rohan like a blanket. The scent of herbs, soft steam rising from the pot, and the sizzle of celestial grain roasting in the pan filled the space with life once again.
He was focused, carefully stirring, humming softly to himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on his chest had lightened.
Then—arms.
Soft and warm, they slid around him from behind, pulling him into a sudden embrace.
Rohan froze for a breath, lips parting slightly in surprise. And then, slowly, he turned around.
Avyaan.
Awake. Smiling. Eyes sparkling with mischief and light, as if the horrors of the past days had melted away.
"You're up," Rohan said softly, his voice caught between awe and disbelief.
"I woke up to the smell of something delicious… and to an empty bed," Avyaan said, resting his head against Rohan's shoulder, his embrace still snug from behind. "So, I came looking."
Rohan looked at him—really looked—and saw color back in his cheeks, life in his eyes, and energy in his movement. It was like the shattered pieces of his beloved had begun to come back together.
"You're okay," Rohan whispered, brushing a thumb along Avyaan's jaw. "You really are."
Avyaan grinned. "Well, almost. I'm still starving."
Rohan let out a soft laugh, heart fuller than it had been in lifetimes. "Then wait just a little more, I'm still cooking. Sit down, troublemaker."
But before Avyaan could obey, he leaned in and kissed Rohan's lips, slow and tender, pouring silent gratitude and love into that one moment.
Rohan returned it with a faint smile, letting it linger just a second longer before nudging him away playfully. "Go. Sit. I don't want to burn this after all that effort."
Avyaan laughed and made his way to the dining table, the sunlight kissing his hair, his presence filling the home with a kind of peace Rohan had only dreamed of.
As he sat down, swinging his legs like a carefree child, he looked over at Rohan.
"So… what's on the menu, oh celestial chef?"
Rohan glanced back over his shoulder, eyes glowing. "Love. Served warm."
The two sat across the table, sharing a breakfast that was simple yet full of warmth. Every bite was more than just food—it was comfort, it was survival, it was love rekindled. Avyaan ate with gusto, stealing glances at Rohan in between bites, while Rohan simply watched him, silently grateful for each breath Avyaan took.
As the last plate was cleared, Rohan reached across the table and gently took Avyaan's hand in his.
"You're healing fast," he said softly, brushing his thumb along Avyaan's fingers. "But your golden core… it only just started recovering. You need to rest a little longer."
Avyaan tilted his head, clearly wanting to protest, but the gentle firmness in Rohan's voice left no room.
"I'm not asking," Rohan added with a soft smile. "Just a little more rest. For me."
Avyaan sighed, a dramatic flair to his expression, but finally nodded. "Alright, alright. Only because you asked nicely."
Rohan leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back soon."
He rose from his seat, summoned his cloak with a flick of his hand, and walked toward the door. But just before stepping out, he looked back one more time.
"Lock the door. And no sneaking out."
Avyaan grinned from the dining chair, already stretching like a lazy cat. "Yes, my overprotective celestial."
Rohan chuckled and stepped outside.
The world beyond their home was quiet, almost eerily so. The streets were scarred, remnants of battle scattered like forgotten memories—burnt flags, broken stones, shattered roads The once-thriving neighborhood had fallen into a hollowed-out silence. As Rohan moved away from the damaged homes and roads, a weight began to settle on his shoulders again—not grief this time, but his friendship. The war may have ended, but the aftermath was only beginning.
Monica, now fully in command of the South Region of the Mortal Realm, had spoken with unwavering conviction."We've begun the process of rebuilding sanctuaries and stabilizing the ley lines. The demons left more destruction than expected, but we've gathered the surviving healers and sentinels. The mortals are scared—but they're alive. I'll make sure they stay that way."
Harry, coordinating the Western Region, chimed in with surprising calm amidst the chaos."We've set up temporary shelters. Most of the villages are in ruins, but a few nature spirits still linger. They're helping us guide the mortals toward safe zones. I've assigned dream watchers to tend to the emotional trauma. No one's being left behind."
And Nitesh, handling the fragile and icy stretches of the Northern Region, offered a nod of reassurance."The north was hit hard, but we've regained control. The rift gates have been sealed, and mortal settlements are being restructured under protection wards. Food supply is still a concern, but I've sent word to the guardian clans. We'll manage."
Rohan's chest swelled with a complex mix of pride and relief. These weren't just comrades—they were leaders now. And they were doing exactly what they were meant to do: protecting the mortal realm while Tina guarded the celestial one.
He raised his hand and activated a small beacon of light that pulsed across the air—a silent message of acknowledgment, trust, and unity.
"You three… are the best parts of this realm," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Thank you."By the time Rohan finished his rounds and his final message to Monica, Harry, and Nitesh, the sky had dimmed into a deep violet.
Back at home, the stone path leading to his ruined estate felt colder in the night air. Though his body ached from everything he had endured, the moment he reached the door, a strange calm settled over him.
He stepped inside quietly, his boots barely making a sound against the smooth floor. The warmth from earlier still lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of herbs and spices from the morning meal. The house had a heartbeat again. And it pulsed with peace. He found Avyaan fast asleep in bed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.
Rohan lay beside Avyaan, his gaze fixed on the face he had longed to see conscious and safe. Gently, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Avyaan, pulling him into a protective embrace as if shielding him from even the memory of harm.
A soft murmur escaped Avyaan's lips as his golden lashes fluttered open. His eyes, though tired, shimmered with the same warmth Rohan remembered—light that had once guided him through darkness. Slowly, Avyaan turned his head, his gaze meeting Rohan's with quiet intensity.
He didn't speak. Words would have failed what his heart was trying to express.
With a trembling hand, Avyaan reached up, brushing Rohan's hair back from his forehead. He leaned forward slowly, tenderly, and cradled Rohan's face between his palms. Their eyes locked—centuries of pain, love, separation, and reunion swirling between them like constellations finally realigned.
And then, Avyaan pressed his lips to Rohan's, softly at first, The kiss deepened, intimate and slow, like they were rediscovering the shape of each other's soul. Rohan melted into it, one hand holding the back of Avyaan's neck, the other gripping the edge of the sheets.