Vijay took a slow drag from his cigarette, then exhaled the smoke into the night sky. His eyes stayed fixed above, but his voice carried a weight that felt far heavier than the silence around them.
"No, son… I don't know the exact reason why they've come," he said quietly. "But I do have a guess."
Om frowned slightly, the seriousness in his uncle's tone unsettling him.
"What kind of guess, Uncle?"
For a moment, Vijay didn't respond. He just kept staring at the sky, as if searching for something lost in the darkness.
Then, in that same deep, steady voice, he began—
"Om… I know your Manoj Uncle. He's always been innocent… and weak. Even as kids."
He paused, his expression softening with old memories.
"Your father—my elder brother—he was different. He carried everything on his shoulders. Every problem, every hardship, every tear… he faced it first, so it would never reach us."
Om listened silently.
"There was no one else," Vijay continued. "Your grandfather… our father… he was lost in devotion. Always praying, always meditating. Either wandering in the forests or sitting in some corner of the house, lost in his spiritual world."
A faint bitterness crept into his voice.
"He never really saw us. And our mother… she wasn't there either."
Vijay let out a slow breath.
"So your father became everything for us. A brother… a father… even a mother. He raised us with love, protected us from everything."
His eyes darkened.
"But that same love became a curse for Manoj."
Om's gaze sharpened.
"Because he never had to face anything on his own," Vijay said. "He became dependent. Afraid. Always hiding behind your father."
A pause.
"And then… came his wife."
The way Vijay said that—
It wasn't just dislike.
It was something deeper.
Something personal.
"Savita," he said coldly, "is not the kind of woman you think she is, Om. She's clever… greedy… and she knows exactly how to use people."
Om didn't interrupt.
He just listened.
"The last time your father and I saw Manoj," Vijay continued, his voice tightening, "your father said something I'll never forget…"
He finally looked at Om.
"He said… he had already lost a brother."
Silence.
"And the reason was Savita."
Vijay's jaw clenched.
"She controls Manoj completely. Like a puppet. He doesn't think for himself anymore… he just follows her."
For a moment, Vijay stopped, as if holding himself back.
Then he shook his head slightly.
"Leave it."
But he didn't leave it.
Not really.
"Just remember this, Om," he said, his voice turning sharp again. "That woman… the one who has suddenly shown up here—she never goes anywhere without a reason."
The air felt heavier now.
"The last time she opened her mouth… it tore three brothers apart."
A long pause.
"This time… I don't know why she's here."
His eyes hardened.
"But my instincts are telling me only one thing—"
"She's here to destroy us again."
Om felt it.
The emotion in Vijay's voice wasn't fake.
It wasn't anger alone.
It was pain.
Old… buried… but still alive.
Without thinking, Om gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Uncle…"
But before he could say anything more, Vijay turned toward him.
His expression had changed.
There was regret in his eyes now.
"Son… until now, I was blind. Whatever I did to you in the past… it was because my mind was clouded. I was wrong."
Om's eyes softened.
"But this time," Vijay continued firmly, "if anything happens to this family… I will protect you."
His voice grew stronger.
"Remember this—you are not alone anymore."
Before Om could react—
Vijay pulled him into a tight embrace.
For a moment, everything else faded.
The tension.
The fear.
The past.
Om smiled, returning the hug just as tightly.
"I know, Uncle," he said softly. "I know you're always with me."
Then, after a small pause, he added—
"And I also know… no matter how much you hate your brothers, you still love them just as much."
Vijay didn't deny it.
Om stepped back slightly, looking straight into his eyes.
"I just want one thing… as long as Manoj Uncle is here, treat him like a younger brother. With love."
His voice stayed calm but firm.
"No matter what Aunt's intentions are… she shouldn't come between the bond of two brothers."
For a second, Vijay just stared at him.
Then—
A faint smile appeared.
He placed his hands on Om's shoulders.
"Alright, son. I'll behave properly with Manoj."
A slight chuckle.
"Happy now?"
Om nodded with a smile.
And just like that, the heaviness between them eased.
Together, uncle and nephew walked back downstairs.
But they weren't alone.
Not entirely.
From a dark corner of the terrace—
A figure stepped out slowly.
It was Isha.
A quiet smile played on her lips as she watched them leave.
Her eyes shimmered with something unreadable.
Moments earlier, she had accidentally seen Om following Vijay upstairs. Curious, she had quietly followed him… and the moment she saw Vijay, she hid herself in the shadows.
And from there—
She heard everything.
Every word.
Every truth.
Meanwhile… in Badallok
Far beyond the human world…
Above the skies…
Hidden among endless clouds—
Floated a magnificent island.
Badallok.
A breathtaking realm untouched by ordinary eyes.
No human could ever see it.
It was as beautiful as heaven itself—like Swargalok or Golok.
Colorful winds danced freely through the sky. Vast lands covered in greenery stretched across the floating island. Strange, melodious birds filled the air with soft music, and unknown creatures roamed peacefully, as if this place belonged to another reality altogether.
Scattered across the island were small yet highly advanced villages—structures glowing in shades of white and gold, touched with seven vibrant colors.
Everything here felt… divine.
And at the heart of it all—
Stood a grand palace.
Pure white.
Layered with gold.
It looked as if the palace itself had been adorned with golden jewelry.
Inside the palace—
Queen Neerja Devi walked gracefully toward the royal court, accompanied by her minister, Ambu.
Dressed in royal attire, she looked nothing less than celestial.
A soft white glow radiated from her body, making her presence even more divine.
A large golden crown, shaped like a circular ring, rested upon her head. Her flowing attire shimmered with shades of deep white and seven colors, bordered with intricate golden designs.
Golden heels adorned her feet.
Jewelry gleamed on her hands, neck, waist, and ears.
Though her true age was unknown—perhaps centuries old—
At this moment, she looked no older than a woman in her early thirties.
Graceful.
Powerful.
Ethereal.
As she walked forward with pride, she spoke—
"Mushkaraj, have all the council members arrived?"
Her minister, struggling to keep up with her pace on his small feet, replied respectfully—
"Yes, Your Majesty. Most of them have arrived. A few guests are still on their way… but they should be here soon."
Neerja Devi smiled faintly.
"Good."
Her eyes gleamed with authority.
"Then let us begin … the council."
And with that—
She stepped forward.
Toward something…
That was about to change everything.