The present-day Vyuk stared at the fire crackling in the distance as he spoke to Aamir, his voice low but steady.
"That was the moment I stopped seeing him as a boy who admired Karunik..."
His fingers tightened around the cup in his hand.
"...and started seeing him as the boy who wanted to destroy everything men like Karunik stood for."
He closed his eyes.
"That was the first time he said it to me, trembling but burning inside—
'Vyuk, I swear… I'll change this world. I'll change everything.'"
The story continued, returning to the day the village burned.
Vyuk and Zorawar sat chained in a slave cart, surrounded by sobbing women and bruised children. The wheels groaned beneath them as the caravan rolled slowly over uneven roads, heading toward the slave market.
Zorawar sat silently, staring at the floor of the cart. His eyes were blank. No tears. No words. Just ash on his cheeks and dried blood on his shirt.
