Part 6: Training

  That evening, a text arrived: *Rooftop. 9 PM. bring your game face.* Arjun found the location easily—an abandoned building on the city's edge, far from prying eyes. Vikram was already there, stretching like he was preparing for a marathon.

  "Alright. You seem like you're walking fine now" Vikram straightened, cracking his neck. "You went to the nurse right? What'd she say"

  "Oh yea, she looked at my bruises and said they should be better by tomorrow "

  "Good, your divine healing is working well. Now, let's fight" Vikram's grin was equal parts challenge and encouragement.

  Arjun—taken aback “Wh- What do you mean let's fight?”

  "You've got power—that much is obvious. But your technique is garbage. You telegraph your moves, you waste energy on inefficient attacks, and your defense is basically 'hope they miss.'"

  Arjun winced. It was accurate.

  "I'm not letting you die because you don't know how to fight properly," Vikram continued. "So. Let's fix that."

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  Vikram's laugh echoed across the empty rooftop. "Trust me, Arjun. You won't."

  He wasn't wrong.

  The sparring session was humbling. Vikram was good—eight months of practice had honed his skills to a razor edge. He moved with fluid grace, anticipating Arjun's attacks before they even began, slipping through defenses like smoke through fingers.

  "Don't telegraph your moves!" he called out, dodging a clumsy punch. "I can see your shoulder wind up a full second before you swing!"

  Arjun tried again. Vikram sidestepped and swept his legs, sending him crashing to the ground.

  "Use your wind! You're treating it like an afterthought—it should be your foundation!"

  Arjun pushed himself up, frustration building. He threw a gust at Vikram, but it was too slow, too obvious.

  "You're thinking too much." Vikram wasn't even breathing hard. "Stop analyzing. Let it flow."

  *"The boy is right,"* Garuda's voice echoed in Arjun's mind. *"Stop thinking. Feel."*

  Arjun took a breath. Closed his eyes for just a moment. Let the golden warmth fill him without trying to control it. When he opened his eyes, he moved. Wind erupted from his palm—not a gust, but a *wall* of pressure. Vikram's eyes widened, and for the first time, he was forced to actually dodge.

  "THERE we go!" Vikram's grin was brilliant. "That's what I'm talking about!"

  The sparring continued, but the dynamic had shifted. Arjun was still outmatched, still getting knocked down more than he stayed up, but the gap was narrowing. Wind and fire danced across the rooftop as both avatars pushed each other to their limits. Finally, exhausted, they collapsed at the roof's edge.

  "Not bad for a rookie," Vikram admitted, breathing hard.

  "You're really good," Arjun replied. "How did you get this way?"

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "Practice. Lots of practice." Vikram stared at the city lights. "Eight months of fighting alone teaches you a lot. That or it kills you."

  "You've been doing this alone? All this time?"

  "Yeah." Something hollow in his voice. "Never met another avatar before you. Figured I was the only one stupid enough to get drafted by a god."

  The loneliness Arjun had glimpsed earlier—it was here, undeniable. Beneath all that confidence, all that charm, Vikram Kumar was profoundly alone.

  *He's been carrying this by himself for eight months.*

  "You don't have to do it alone anymore," Arjun said quietly.

  Vikram looked at him. Really looked, without the mask or the bravado.

  "No," he said finally. "I guess I don't."

  They sat in comfortable silence, watching the city breathe.

  "Twice a week," Vikram said eventually. "We train twice a week. I'll teach you everything I know."

  "Why?" Arjun asked. "Why help me?"

  Vikram was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically serious. "Because this is too big for either of us alone. Whatever's causing these possessions—it's getting worse. We need to be ready."

  "And?"

  A ghost of a smile. "And... it's nice to have someone who gets it."

  Arjun understood that perfectly.

  ---

  Part 7: Garuda's Concern

  That night, in the mindscape, Garuda was waiting.

  "You trust this boy?" The god's voice held an edge of curiosity.

  "Vikram? He saved my life."

  "Agni's vessel." Garuda's wings rustled as though he was shrugging. "Fire is unpredictable. Passionate but dangerous. It burns bright, but it can also consume."

  "He seems... lonely. Sad, even."

  "And you wish to help him." It wasn't a question.

  "Isn't that what we do?" Arjun faced his god directly. "You chose me because I help people. Vikram needs help, even if it's not the kind you're used to."

  Garuda regarded him with those ancient, burning eyes. "We fight demons, Arjun. Not offer therapy."

  "People need help in different ways."

  A long silence. Then, surprisingly, something that might have been a chuckle. "Your compassion will either save this world or doom you," Garuda said. "There is no middle ground with hearts like yours."

  "I'll take that chance."

  "Very well." Garuda inclined his head. "Train with the fire-bearer. Learn from him. But stay vigilant. Not everyone who seems friendly truly is."

  "I will."

  "And Arjun?" Garuda's voice softened, just slightly. "Your instinct to see good in others—it is a rare gift. Do not let it blind you to genuine threats."

  Arjun nodded, and the mindscape began to fade.

  ---

  Part 8: Watching Eyes

  The rooftop was empty now. Arjun had gone home, and Vikram had departed in a blaze of fire, leaving only scorch marks on the concrete. The night had settled into true darkness, the city's lights a glittering carpet far below. Nothing moved. Then—something peeled away from the shadows. A figure emerged from darkness that should have been too thin to hide anything. Hooded, face obscured, but the eyes... the eyes glowed faint purple, like dying embers. The figure watched the rooftop where the two avatars had trained. Studied the scorch marks. The pattern of their movements, still visible to those who knew how to look.

  "So," a voice whispered—not quite human, not quite anything else. "Garuda finally found a vessel. And Agni too.

  A phone appeared in the figure's hand. Ancient fingers tapped a modern screen.

  "Master will want to know about this."

  The figure listened to the reply, head tilted at an inhuman angle.

  "Yes. I understand. Observe for now. Report any changes."

  The phone disappeared.

  The figure remained a moment longer, watching the city with those terrible purple eyes. Then it smiled—a cold, hungry expression that held no warmth, no humanity.

  "Enjoy your training, little avatars," it whispered. "Enjoy it while you can."

  And then it dissolved into mist, leaving the rooftop empty once more.

  Somewhere across the city, Arjun slept peacefully in his narrow bed, dreaming of wind and fire.

  He didn't know he was being watched.

  He wouldn't know for a long time.

  ---