The sky above Greyvale had dulled into ashen gray, a slow storm boiling quietly across the horizon. Beneath the twisted branches of a withered tree, Harun sat cross-legged, eating a mango in silence. Its sweetness was the only softness in the bitter wind that moved through the valley like a warning.
For the first time in weeks, he had found a moment to breathe. But it didn't last.
A shadow broke the stillness.
"You've wasted enough time," came a cold voice from behind.
Harun didn't need to look.
Veil.
His presence alone changed the air — as if the world itself braced under his weight.
"You have exactly one year," Veil said. "Exactly one year before Gautam breaks the seal… and frees Azaldera."
The fruit slipped from Harun's hand.
"One year…" he murmured.
Veil's voice sharpened. "And if you're not ready by then — he wins."
Harun stood. "What must I do?"
Veil stepped forward, his silhouette warping in the fading light.
"You must train beyond pain.
You must awaken your Bhramm.
Strengthen your body.
Understand your Dravillian Stone.
And master what most fear to face — your own illusions."
He paused.
"Starting today, your life becomes a nightmare. If you still fear losing to Gautam, leave now."
Harun's fists closed.
"I'm not leaving. I'm ready."
But a question lingered on his lips.
"How… How am I alive?"
Before Veil could respond, a voice echoed in Harun's mind.
"You'll understand in time," it said.
Ahad. The presence within the Dravillian Stone. Neither spirit nor voice — a part of him.
Veil said nothing more.
"Then prepare yourself," he said. "Your fire begins at dawn."
---
Nine Months Later
The boy who once sat beneath the tree was gone.
Now stood a warrior, forged by suffering.
Eighteen years old, and no longer frail.
Harun's body was sculpted from agony:
Muscle stacked over muscle.
Veins coiled like black lightning down his arms.
His core—tight, lean, defined.
And across his chest glowed the Dravillian Stone, now harmonized with his Bhramm aura.
> "Nine months," Harun narrated to himself.
"A thousand push-ups a day.
A thousand sit-ups.
Fifteen hundred squats.
And when it got easy… Veil sat on me.
One hundred and fifty kilograms.
I meditated under frozen waterfalls.
I fought Veil daily. And lost — daily.
But I never stopped.
Today… is the last fight.
If I win, I'll be ready to face Gautam."
As if summoned by destiny, Veil appeared.
"You've changed," he said. "But talk is just air. Show me."
He cast his cloak aside. His feet dragged scars into the stone.
Harun stepped forward.
"I won't lose again."
Veil didn't smile. He simply vanished.
---
The Final Trial: Harun vs Veil
The first strike came like lightning — from behind. Harun barely twisted in time, his ribs absorbing the blow. He staggered.
Another blow, this time from the left. A kick sent him rolling across the field.
Veil stood calmly, unmoving.
"Bhramm of Vision," he declared.
Suddenly, the world multiplied.
Ten versions of Veil encircled Harun, each perfectly echoing the original. They moved in sync, reading Harun's micro-reactions, anticipating his decisions before he made them.
Harun wiped blood from his chin.
"Then let's see what you do with this."
He focused.
"Bhramm of Shape."
His body began to ripple. Arms distorted into blades, spine coiled like a serpent. His feet turned to vapor.
He dashed forward, spinning through the illusions. One after the other — slash, strike, feint, step.
But they kept coming back.
"Instinct is your weakness," Veil said. "You react. You don't lead."
Harun's breathing grew heavier.
He paused.
"Then I won't react anymore."
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, the world slowed.
The real Veil blinked — just once.
It was enough.
Harun struck.
A clean uppercut shattered the illusion, sent Veil stumbling.
The silence after the blow was deafening.
"You've grown," Veil muttered. "But we're not done."
---
Veil's Counter: Bhramm of Echo
Then came the whispers.
Not outside. Inside.
The voice of his father, broken and helpless.
Zoya's scream.
Rohan's laughter, twisted and cruel.
"Failure."
"Weak."
"You let her die."
Harun dropped to one knee. His head pulsed with agony. His vision blurred.
He was back — back at the moment he lost her.
Zoya.
Her hand slipping from his. Her eyes fading.
"No… I saved her. I brought her back!"
But the illusion didn't stop. It swirled around him like smoke and chains.
"You want this to stop?" Veil's voice rang out.
"Then accept what you are."
Harun grit his teeth.
He whispered to himself:
"I'm not that boy anymore.
She's alive.
I fought for her.
And I'll fight again."
The voices shattered like glass.
He stood once more.
---
The Pulse
Veil charged again. But Harun didn't move.
Instead, his chest pulsed.
Not light. Not sound. A thrum — deep, invisible — radiating outward like a wave.
Veil stopped mid-stride.
Something… was wrong.
His hand twitched. His vision split in two. His instincts faltered. His muscles hesitated.
"What… is this?"
Harun didn't speak. He stepped forward, eyes steady.
Another pulse.
Veil grunted. "You're interfering with my Bhramm…?"
He stepped back. Tried to refocus.
But the battlefield shimmered.
His past flashed — the face of Bhaldev, the moment Azaldera awoke, the memory of a failure Veil had buried for centuries.
He blinked.
And Harun was behind him.
One strike.
Then another.
Veil collapsed to a knee.
"This… this isn't Vision. Or Echo. Or Shape."
Harun's breath was heavy.
"I don't know what it is," he said. "It happened one day during training. Like… my instincts broke through something."
Veil stood, slowly.
"You've created a new Bhramm."
Harun looked down at his hand.
"I call it… Bhramm of Pulse."
Veil's face was unreadable.
"A Bhramm that sends illusion through sensation. Through disruption. Not image. Not voice. But pressure. Rhythm. Mind."
Harun nodded.
"I don't attack your eyes or your ears. I shake your instincts."
Veil exhaled.
"I yield," he said.
Harun blinked. "What?"
"You won. Not because you're stronger. But because you became something different. Something new."
---
Truths and Names
Veil sat on a nearby rock, bleeding from his lip.
"Centuries ago, I created Bhramm of Echo.
My friend, Bhaldev, created Vision.
His student forged Shape.
That student was the first to master all three. He disappeared. No one has heard of him since."
Harun sat beside him.
"So… have I joined them?"
Veil looked into the sky.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But your path now branches alone. Whatever comes… you're no longer following us. You're building something new."
Harun said nothing.
The wind carried their silence for a long while.
That night, Harun walked silently through the misty woods that led back toward Greyvale's outer ridge — where Zoya now stayed under the protection of the AATMIK scouts. Her memories, still fractured, hadn't returned since the battle. She didn't recognize him.
He stopped just outside the perimeter tent, heart thudding.
Zoya was standing at the edge of a cliff, watching the moonlight tremble over the valley.
Harun stepped forward.
"Zoya…"
She turned. Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
He hesitated.
"I… I just need you to trust me."
She stepped back.
"Don't come closer."
He didn't. Instead, he reached out his hand — slowly.
"Take it," he said gently. "And look into my eyes. Just once."
Zoya frowned, confused… but her fingers brushed his.
The moment their hands touched—
A jolt surged through her skull.
She screamed.
Images crashed into her mind like a tidal wave —
A boy, laughing under sunlight.
Fighting together in the forest.
A kiss in the middle of the rain.
The moment she fell.
The moment he wept for her.
Zoya clutched her head, collapsing to her knees.
"AHHHH!"
Memories spilled into her like a flood breaking a dam.
And then… silence.
She looked up, trembling.
"Harun…"
Her voice cracked. "I… I remember."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she rushed into his arms.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I forgot you. I forgot everything."
Harun held her tightly.
"You came back. That's enough."
---
AATMIK Headquarters
The next morning, Zoya brought Harun to AATMIK's central hub — a hidden mountain chamber carved deep into the stone, run by the resistance's most powerful leaders. Gohan, the commander, stood beside the ancient Bhramm crystal — the device used to read one's Bhramm aura and classification.
Harun stood calmly before it.
"Place your palm on the stone," Gohan instructed.
Harun nodded.
The instant his skin made contact, the crystal flickered.
Then pulsed.
Then—cracked.
The reading orb spun wildly, runes glowing with unstable intensity.
Zoya stepped back in shock.
The system flashed a message across its surface:
> BHRAMM LEVEL: UNKNOWN
Everyone in the chamber froze.
Gohan's eyes darkened.
"This… this has only happened once before."
He stepped forward, slowly.
"When my own Bhramm was measured."
Zoya whispered, "What does it mean?"
"It means," Gohan said carefully, "Harun isn't within the normal ranks anymore. Not Adept. Not Elite. Not Prime."
He turned toward the gathered commanders.
"He is… Moksha."
Gasps filled the room.
Zoya stared at Harun, stunned. "How did you become this strong… in just nine months?"
Harun turned to her. His voice was low. Calm. Certain.
"Because this time… I'm not letting you die."
Zoya blinked, eyes softening. A quiet stillness passed between them.
Then—
"Harun?!"
A voice from behind.
Sahil entered the hall, his face somewhere between disbelief and awe.
"This kid… is Moksha?!"
Harun laughed and walked straight to him.
He hugged him.
"I'm glad you're alive, Sahil."
Sahil's arms remained limp. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you high?"
Harun grinned. "Not anymore."
Sahil scowled. "Tch. Bastard."
But a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
---
The Eleventh Hunter
Later that day, Gohan stood before the gathering inside the AATMIK council hall.
"Let this be recorded in our archive.
After years without one…
We now have our Eleventh Moksha Hunter."
He turned.
"Harun — step forward."
The hall echoed with silence.
Harun stepped onto the raised platform.
No medals. No ceremony. Just truth.
"I'll carry it," he said. "Whatever it means."
---
The Countdown
Only three days remained.
Three days before Gautam would break the final lock and summon Azaldera into the living world.
Gohan paced inside the war chamber.
He turned to Harun, Zoya, Sahil, and Radha.
"You four are the best chance we have. Your mission is simple, but nearly impossible."
He laid a map on the table.
"Stop Gautam before the seal breaks. No matter what it takes."
Harun studied the diagram. Red lines. Black sigils. The final gate pulsing near the border of the Forgotten Caverns.
Sahil nodded. "We'll do it."
Zoya looked uncertain. "And if we fail?"
Harun didn't answer.
His eyes were locked on the edge of the map — a circular marking drawn in ancient ink.
Azaldera's mark.
The room fell silent.
Somewhere, deep in the dark, a chained voice laughed quietly.
The seal had already begun to fracture.