Veer awoke not with a gasp, but in silence.
No fire. No heat. No voices.
Just stone—cold, damp stone beneath his palms and back.
He opened his eyes slowly.
The ceiling above him was carved, ancient, its surface cracked and moss-covered, yet lined with faded gold markings that glowed faintly in the dark. They resembled the same broken sun symbol that had burned into his skin before he blacked out.
Where was he?
This wasn't the Sun Clan temple… wasn't any place he recognized.
The air carried the weight of thousands of years—heavy with memory, thick with something that felt older than time.
He sat up.
There were no torches. No visible source of light. Yet the chamber glowed faintly with ethereal warmth, like the afterglow of a dying star.
At the far end stood a statue, tall and godlike—its face veiled, its chest carved with a sun split in two, just like the mark Veer now bore.
As he stepped closer, the mark on his own chest throbbed.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the chamber—not loud, but it filled the air like a chant inside his bones.
> "You should not have awakened."
Veer spun around. No one.
> "The bloodline was sealed for a reason."
"Who are you?" Veer demanded, fists clenched, body trembling—not in fear, but in reverent confusion.
> "I am what your clan buried. What your father feared. What the Sun itself exiled."
The statue's eyes opened.
Amber and burning. Alive.
Veer stumbled back.
The statue moved—not physically, but spiritually. The stone surface cracked and a phantom presence emerged, towering and majestic. A being of flame and ruin.
> "You bear the Seal of Surya-Roga… the Sun's Curse."
Veer froze. "Curse? But I'm of the Sun Clan! We worship the flame, we are its chosen—"
> "Chosen to suffer. The flame is not only warmth. It is also scorch, blight, wrath."
A memory flashed in Veer's mind: a scroll he had once seen as a child, forbidden, with the line "The Curse of the Twin Sun shall awaken once the balance is broken."
"Why me?" Veer whispered.
> "Because you broke the balance. You tried to control both wind and flame… but your soul was never meant to hold harmony. You were born from conflict."
> "You are the heir of the Broken Sun. And now… you must choose."
The room darkened. The phantom raised its hand. Two paths lit up behind the statue—one glowing white-gold, the other blood-red.
---
Meanwhile, back at the Sun Clan…
Panic gripped the Flame Pavilion.
Elder Bhairav slammed his staff down. "We need to find him before the Shadow Valley does!"
"The seal was supposed to last another generation!" another elder shouted. "His father promised us—"
"He trained against the balance," Bhairav whispered. "He cracked it open himself."
Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed from the outer temple.
A guard burst in, bloodied and panting. "Assassins… from the Shadow Valley… they've breached the southern wall!"
Bhairav's heart sank. "They knew."
"They're not after the Clan," the guard choked, "They're here for… Veer."
---
Back in the hidden chamber…
The phantom's voice dropped lower.
> "You have nine days."
> "In nine days, the fire inside you will either burn you hollow, or you will awaken as the bearer of the Cursed Sun."
> "Nine days to master the flame that was meant to remain forgotten… or be devoured by it."
Veer stood at the center of the twin paths.
His hands trembled.
His mark pulsed like a second heart.
> And then—just as he took a step—**
A figure cloaked in shadow appeared at the edge of the white-gold path. He wore the sigil of the Shadow Valley, but his aura felt oddly familiar.
"You don't know me yet, Veer," the stranger said, his voice cold but amused, "But I've been waiting for your curse to wake up."