The man walked ahead of them quietly.
Not once did he ask who they were. Not once did he seem afraid.
That alone felt strangely peaceful.
In the outside world, everyone feared something now-hunger, death, the Elites, Nexus, each other. Fear had become as common as breathing.
But this man simply walked through the trees with calm steps, as if the world had not ended beyond the hills surrounding them.
Parth and Sia followed him slowly.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
They were too busy looking around.
Everything here felt... alive.
Not barely surviving. Not fighting to stay standing.
Alive.
The wind smelled sweet, carrying the scent of flowers instead of smoke and rust. Tall trees swayed softly above them, their leaves glowing green under sunlight that actually looked warm instead of sickly pale.
Parth stared upward for a second too long.
The sky was blue. He still couldn't believe.
Not gray. Not bronze. Not hidden beneath polluted clouds.
Blue.
Pure, endless blue.
Beside him, Sia whispered softly, almost to herself,
> "I forgot the sky used to look like this."
In the distance, many more children laughed.
Running through fields.
Not silent Nexus victims. Not starving refugees. Not frightened survivors hiding behind broken walls.
Children.
A little boy ran past them carrying flowers bigger than his hands, laughing as another child chased him with what looked like a wooden toy sword.
Parth felt something tighten painfully inside his chest.
Hope.
After so long, hope itself hurt.
The man leading them finally spoke.
> "Ma told me you would arrive today."
Parth blinked. "She knew?"
The man smiled faintly. "Ma knows many things."
Sia exchanged a quick glance with Parth.
That only raised more questions.
They continued walking deeper into Sambhala.
The roads weren't made of polished metal or glowing glass like the elite cities. They were simple stone paths lined with flowers. Small streams flowed beside them, crystal clear and full of fish.
People bowed politely as they passed.
Not out of fear.
Out of warmth.
Parth almost didn't know how to react to kindness anymore.
After everything they had seen, this place felt unreal.
Then the thought hit him suddenly.
The others.
He stopped walking immediately.
"Our friends," he said quickly. "They're still outside. One of them is sick. We need to bring them here."
The man stopped as well.
For the first time, hesitation crossed his face.
> "I cannot allow people to enter Sambhala on my own authority."
Sia frowned. "They're with us."
> "I understand," the man replied gently. "But Sambhala has remained hidden for a reason. No outsider enters without Ma's permission."
Parth clenched his jaw.
Every second mattered.
Meera was already weak.
As if sensing his panic, the man spoke again.
> "Come with me first. Once you meet Ma, you may ask her yourself."
Parth and Sia hesitated.
Hanuman ji had sent them here. There had to be a reason.
Finally, Parth nodded slowly.
> "Fine."
The path ahead widened gradually.
And then they saw it.
A massive wooden house stood in the middle of an open field, surrounded by giant trees whose branches stretched like protective arms over the land.
Flowers bloomed everywhere.
Not carefully arranged garden flowers.
Wild flowers.
Natural. Untouched.
The house itself looked ancient and peaceful at the same time. Warm sunlight reflected against polished wood walls, and colorful prayer flags fluttered softly from the balconies.
Birds nested peacefully along the roof.
Parth couldn't remember the last time he'd seen birds without fear.
The closer they got, the calmer he felt.
The constant pressure inside his chest-the exhaustion, the dread, the grief-it all seemed quieter here.
Not gone.
Just... lighter.
The man stopped near the entrance.
> "Please wait here."
He disappeared inside.
Parth exhaled slowly.
Sia stood beside him silently, eyes fixed on the house.
Then the door opened.
And for one foolish second, Parth expected an old woman.
Someone ancient. Someone mysterious.
Instead-
A young woman stepped outside.
She looked no older than twenty-five.
Her long dark hair flowed freely over simple silk clothes, and a soft smile rested on her face so naturally that it seemed part of the sunlight itself.
The apocalypse had not touched her.
No exhaustion. No fear. No bitterness.
And yet there was something immense about her presence.
Something divine.
The moment Parth saw her, tears burned unexpectedly in his eyes.
The aura surrounding her felt painfully familiar.
Gentle. Warm. Protective.
Like-
Rukmini Bhabhi.
Beside him, Sia suddenly gasped.
Then before Parth could even react-
> "Didi!"
Sia ran toward her immediately, tears already slipping down her face.
The woman opened her arms without hesitation and hugged her tightly.
Parth stood frozen.
The woman smiled softly, brushing Sia's hair back gently.
> "I was waiting for you all," she said. "Swami already told me long ago you were coming."
That confirmed everything.
Parth lowered his head slightly.
He and Sia had been right.
This woman wasn't ordinary.
Sia stepped back slowly, wiping her eyes while trying-and failing-to stop smiling.
Parth finally found his voice.
> "Can we bring our other four friends here devi?" he asked quickly. "One of them is really sick."
The woman looked at him.
Then she laughed softly.
Warmly.
> "Last time I remember, I was your bhabhi," she said gently. "Now you call me Devi?"
Parth blinked.
She smiled wider.
> "At least call me didi, Parth."
His throat tightened.
She knew him.
Of course she knew him.
> "And yes," she continued, "I know who your friends are too. They are welcomed here."
Relief hit him so suddenly he almost lost balance.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he genuinely smiled.
> "Then... what should we call you this time, didi?"
The woman folded her hands calmly.
> "Padmavati."
Even the wind seemed to quiet around her name.
> "Padmavati," she repeated softly, "wife of Kalki, the tenth avatar of Vishnu on Earth."
The words settled over the world like sacred music.
Parth felt goosebumps rise along his skin instantly.
Without thinking, he joined his palms together and bowed his head before her.
Not because she demanded worship.
But because something inside him recognized divinity instinctively.
Indeed.
The avatar of Mahalakshmi herself.
Padmavati smiled gently, clearly amused by his reaction.
> "You're still too formal, Parth."
Before he could answer, footsteps approached from behind.
Parth turned sharply.
The same man who had guided them earlier was returning-
And behind him were Aarav, Neel, Avni and Meera.
Avni looked stunned. Neel looked cautiously relieved. Aarav looked like he already knew this place existed somewhere in his endless visions.
And Meera-
Meera looked completely fine.
No fever. No weakness. No trembling.
She stared around herself in disbelief.
> "I... I don't feel sick anymore."
Sia smiled immediately. "Told you this place is magical."
Meera looked close to crying again.
Padmavati walked toward them warmly.
> "Welcome to Sambhala."
Her voice carried the same impossible calm.
She greeted each of them personally, as if she had known them long before today.
And somehow... maybe she had.
A little silence settled after introductions.
Then Padmavati looked at all six of them carefully.
Their tired eyes. Their dust-covered clothes. Their exhausted bodies trying too hard to stay standing.
Her expression softened immediately.
> "You all look exhausted," she said gently. "Eat something first. Drink water. Rest."
Aarav nearly looked emotional at the mention of water alone.
Padmavati smiled knowingly.
> "We can talk in the evening."
The same man guided them further inside the village.
The girls were taken toward one wooden house surrounded by flowering vines.
The boys toward another slightly farther away beneath enormous trees.
Before leaving, a little girl entered carrying trays of fruits and clay cups full of cool water.
Actual cold water.
Avni nearly grabbed the cup with both hands.
Meera drank slowly at first.
Then immediately burst into tears halfway through.
Nobody laughed at her.
Parth sat near the window quietly.
He should have been thinking.
About Nexus. About Hanuman ji. About how to send word back to Puri. About Kalki.
Instead, all he could think about was how soft the bed looked.
Aarav collapsed backward onto the mattress first.
> "If this is a dream," he mumbled, "don't wake me up."
"As if you didn't know that this was about to happen", Neel snorted softly.
Even he looked half-dead from exhaustion.
Parth opened his mouth.
> "We should discuss-"
He never finished the sentence.
Sleep hit him like a wave.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was sunlight filtering through green leaves outside the window.
Peaceful.
Safe.
And for the first time in centuries of memory-
Arjun slept without preparing for war.