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Chapter 1 - Ashura-Touched: Echoes of DarknessChapter 1 — When the Sky Shattered

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10:07 AM — Earth

No matter where you were—New York or Nairobi, Tokyo or Mumbai—the sky broke at the same time.

It began with silence.

A suffocating stillness, as if the world had inhaled and forgotten how to exhale.

Birds dropped mid-flight.

Lights flickered in offices and classrooms.

Phones glitched with symbols no one could understand.

Then came the sound.

A crack—like a thousand mirrors shattering in unison across the globe.

The sky didn't split with thunder, but with a tear of light. Not white, not golden—

—but a sickly violet that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Wrong. Alive.

Above a construction site in Delhi, a jagged rip opened in the air.

In New York, it shimmered over Central Park.

In Tokyo, it hovered above a train station.

Dozens more followed. All at once. Everywhere.

From each tear came something... unnatural.

Not just monsters—but the scent of something older. Something that didn't belong.

Darkness poured out like smoke, writhing and twisting into forms that defied logic.

Some had wings. Some had too many eyes.

All of them felt like nightmares dragged into daylight.

Science had no answer.

Weapons didn't work fast enough.

By noon, over a million were dead.

Cities burned. Panic surged across static-choked livestreams.

People screamed until their voices were swallowed by chaos.

Soldiers fired blindly into the unknown, and governments issued their final desperate orders:

"STAY INDOORS. AVOID ALL CRACKS. DO NOT APPROACH UNSTABLE ENTITIES."

The world had changed.

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3:32 PM — Rudran's City, India

Classes were canceled. Not that anyone cared anymore.

The streets buzzed with half-truths and fear.

"Aliens."

"Gods."

"Portals."

"Doom."

On the rooftop of an aging school building, Rudran sat at the edge, legs dangling.

The city below shimmered with heat—but somehow, the sun felt cold on his skin.

Behind him, his friends—Arin, Zayn, and Hiro—paced restlessly, each reacting to the crisis in their own way.

"Dude, I'm telling you—we need to leave. Now," said Arin, his voice sharp, eyes wide. "That video from Mumbai? The thing was invisible until it was right there. The guy didn't even get to scream."

Zayn scrolled through a cracked tablet, fingers twitching. "I'm tracking seventeen crack sites across the state. No pattern. No logic. And no one knows a damn thing. Not even the U.S."

Hiro leaned silently against the doorframe, gaze fixed on the sky like it might bleed again.

He hadn't said much—but his silence spoke louder than panic.

Rudran didn't move. Didn't speak.

His shadow… was wrong.

It stretched a little too far. Bent at the wrong angle.

And for a moment—it moved before he did.

He blinked. Rubbed his eyes.

Nothing.

But something deep in his chest twisted.

Like a cold stone lodged beneath his heart.

Like something waiting.

Zayn looked up. "Hey... you okay, man?"

Rudran opened his mouth to answer—

And the world tilted.

Everything froze.

The heat vanished.

His hearing collapsed into a tunnel of silence.

Then he fell.

Not downward.

Inward.

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???: The Inner Plane

He stood in a world of fog and echoes.

No sky. No ground.

Just a battlefield made of whispers and shifting shadows.

They spoke his name.

> "Rudran…"

"Found you…"

"Wake up."

From below, black arms surged upward—ghostly, spectral, wrong.

They reached for him. Grasped his chest. His throat. His eyes.

He wanted to scream—

But the shadows merged with him.

One gripped his right arm like molten ice.

Another sank into his shadow like ink.

Not pain. Not peace.

Just power.

> "Take it."

"Or be consumed."

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Back on the Rooftop

Rudran gasped.

His body jolted upright, chest heaving, eyes wide—

—and glowing faint violet.

His shadow shifted—rose like smoke behind him.

It took shape. Not human. Not whole.

And from it, a gauntlet of jagged, shadowed bone curled around his arm.

His friends froze.

Zayn stepped back. Arin cursed under his breath.

Hiro just stared.

"Rudran…?" Hiro said softly.

Rudran didn't answer.

He was breathing like a man pulled out of drowning.

The power inside him was awake.

And it didn't feel like a gift.

> It felt like a curse—

One waiting to be claimed.

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End of Chapter 1

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