Om had already walked out of Chauhan's party, while far away in the celestial court of Badallok, Vipul had finished revealing every dark detail about the sinister plans brewing in Paatallok to the Queen, Dhoomketu, and the others.
He had seen his father—Dhoomketu—hiding behind a pillar.
That was exactly why he had demanded, with cold anger, that Dhoomketu step out and listen to everything openly with the assembly.
Throughout the entire exchange, Dhoomketu stood there, watching his "dead" son with trembling, emotional eyes. Years… it had been years since he had last seen Vipul. The longing in his heart was unbearable, yet fear gripped him even tighter.
Because deep down, he knew the truth—
Vipul hated him.
And perhaps… that hatred was justified.
Dhoomketu had abandoned his family in the harshest way possible, leaving all responsibilities on Vipul's shoulders alone. A burden no son should ever have to carry.
Again and again, Dhoomketu tried to hold back his tears…
But in the end, a few helpless drops escaped, rolling down his face like silent confessions of guilt.
Everyone present—Kakbhushundi, the Queen, and the others—could feel his pain.
But Vipul…
Vipul didn't even look at him once.
Not even for a second.
Throughout his entire speech, he didn't turn his eyes toward his father. It was as if Dhoomketu didn't even exist for him anymore.
Finally, after finishing everything and completing the formalities, Vipul took the Queen's permission and walked toward the magnificent celestial garden.
As he turned to leave—
For just a brief moment…
He glanced at his father.
That single glance…
It shook Dhoomketu to his core.
Because in Vipul's eyes, there wasn't love… not even pain anymore.
There was only rage.
A deep, burning rage that seemed ready to consume everything.
That look pierced straight through Dhoomketu's soul, eating him alive from within.
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Dhoomketu followed him… slowly… hesitantly.
But he stopped at a distance.
There Vipul was—sitting alone on a beautiful stone seat in the garden, surrounded by divine silence.
Dhoomketu didn't have the courage to walk up to him.
He just stood there…
Watching his own son from afar…
Cursing himself… drowning in guilt… tears silently falling.
And then—
A hand gently touched his shoulder.
Dhoomketu turned back quickly.
Behind him stood Kakbhushundi and the Queen.
Immediately, Dhoomketu bowed respectfully.
"Greetings, great time traveler, Kakbhushundi… forgive me for my behavior. I stepped out without your permission."
Kakbhushundi smiled softly at his innocence.
"There is no need to apologize," he said calmly. "I understand what must be going through your heart… seeing your son alive after so many years, even in this form."
He paused, then spoke with deeper meaning—
"But hiding from your own son… that is not right."
Dhoomketu's eyes trembled.
"You must tell him," Kakbhushundi continued, "why you left him… why you abandoned your family in the middle of life's storm."
"He deserves to know."
"Even in death, he seeks answers."
His voice grew heavier.
"I do not think you should let him return to the heavens with unanswered questions in his heart. Go… speak to him. Ease the pain in his soul… and grant him true peace."
"Go, Dhoomketu… go to your son."
Those words lit a faint spark of courage inside Dhoomketu.
He looked at Vipul… just once…
Then, with a heavy heart and trembling steps, he began walking toward him.
Watching this, the Queen grew uneasy.
Turning to Kakbhushundi, she said softly,
"I feel this conversation is not going to stay calm… it might turn intense."
Kakbhushundi smiled, eyes still fixed on the father and son.
"In families, no matter how much anger exists… no matter how long silence lasts… in the end, conversations have the power to heal everything."
He chuckled lightly.
"Though yes… this one might get a little heated. You may even have to step in."
Meanwhile—
Dhoomketu walked closer… step by step…
Until he finally stopped just a few feet away.
Before he could even say a word—
Vipul spoke.
Cold. Sharp. Furious.
"Anyone can come… but not that man."
His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"I don't want a father who never cared about his children… who never worried about them."
"Kindly… great teacher of the demi-gods, representative of humans, mighty warrior… Guru Dhoomketu—"
His tone turned mocking.
"—it would be better if you disappear from my sight right now."
Those words struck like thunder.
Dhoomketu froze.
For a moment… he couldn't even breathe.
But somehow, gathering what little strength he had left, he spoke softly—
"Son… Vipul… at least—"
"I said LEAVE!"
Vipul roared, his voice echoing across the garden.
"I don't want to hear a single word from you!"
His eyes burned like embers as he turned toward him.
"Get out of my sight… before something happens that shouldn't."
"Or maybe…" his voice dropped dangerously low, "the great Guru Dhoomketu might just be killed… by his own dead son."
Dhoomketu stepped back.
Fear… pain… guilt…
Everything crushed him at once.
He could fight countless battles…
But not this one.
Not against his own son.
Broken… defeated… he turned away, tears flowing freely as he began walking back.
But then—
A voice stopped them both.
"He deserves a chance to speak."
Both Vipul and Dhoomketu turned.
The Queen was walking toward them.
"There must be a reason," she said firmly, "why he stayed away for so many years… why he left you all behind."
"You should at least hear him once."
Her voice softened.
"No father abandons his children without a reason."
"Give him a chance."
Vipul fell silent.
Something inside him… shifted.
A strange feeling stirred in his chest.
He looked at her… confused.
Why does she feel familiar…?
Why does her voice feel… close?
Why do I lose my composure whenever I hear her speak?
He clenched his fists internally.
No… this is wrong. I love only my wife. I cannot feel this for anyone else…
Shaking off the thought, he spoke coldly—
"Forgive me, Queen… but do not interfere in my personal matters."
His eyes hardened.
"You may be a ruler… but anyone who interferes in my affairs… it won't end well for them."
The Queen's expression stiffened slightly.
Inside, a flicker of irritation rose.
Oh… such arrogance…
Meanwhile, Kakbhushundi watched with quiet amusement.
Vipul continued, his voice turning sharper—
"Take this irresponsible man away from me."
"Otherwise… it won't take long for Badallok to turn into ashes."
A deadly silence fell.
And then—
The Queen smiled.
Not gently.
But with pride… with challenge.
"If that's what you think," she said, stepping forward, "then let's see it today."
"Let's see if a divine messenger can really turn Badallok into ashes."
Her hands rose into the air.
Instantly—
Glowing blue symbols… ancient, mystical patterns… began forming around her palms, spinning like living energy.
The air itself started trembling.
It felt like a storm was about to erupt.
Seeing this, Vipul's eyes flared with equal fury.
He extended his hands forward—
"Fine."
"If that's what you want… then let's do this."
By now, Ambu and Sarpdoot had also reached Kakbhushundi's side.
And in mere moments—
That serene, heavenly garden…
Turned into a battlefield.