The forest was still—too still.
Even the birds had gone silent.
A thick tension loomed in the air like fog, pressing against the skin of every soldier like a second layer of armor.
Seenu and Kunal stood at the front of their unit, unmoving.
Behind them, Seenu's elite squad stood in perfect formation, weapons drawn, nerves taut.
But they weren't surrounded.
They sensed no army.
Just one presence.
One. Terrifying. Presence.
And that made it worse.
"This pressure…" one soldier whispered, his voice trembling. "It's like standing in front of a storm god."
Kunal didn't reply.
His NeeraKshetra—the eye of divine vision—had already awakened.
A faint violet shimmer arced along the edge of his blade, humming with power only he could understand.
Beside him, Seenu's palms glowed crimson, fire threads weaving through his fingers as if they were alive.
Then—
The shadows parted.
