Gayatri chapter 1: Shakti awakens part 1

This chapter is Written by k.Mani kumar & K.Bala Devi Vignasri 

While The first dharmic warrior dhruva defeating all five asura generals. And Kirtimukha (Ajay) will going to face his own greatest enemies 

But there was also a first female dharmic warrior who was facing most powerful and greatest enemies of dharma and saving her village this is how her story begins ! 

Afternoon, 2:20 PM

The city of Rajamahendravaram was a cacophony of terror. Ugrasura, a monstrous Asura general, had unleashed his formidable army upon the unsuspecting populace. Screams pierced the air as people ran for their lives, a desperate scramble to escape the unfolding nightmare. Among the panicked throng was Gayatri, a spirited 24-year-old, clutching her father’s hand.

A menacing group of Asuras, their eyes alight with malevolent intent, bore down on them, closing in on the fleeing civilians. Just as despair threatened to consume them, a brilliant flash of divine light, a shimmering blend of blue and white, descended from the heavens. A figure, radiating an aura of undeniable power, landed with purposeful grace. It was Dhruva (Kmk).

With swift, decisive movements, Kmk engaged the Asura group, his divine weapons moving with blurring speed. He unleashed his divine Chakras, razor-sharp rings of celestial energy, that carved through the Asuras, cutting down the monstrous forms that stood between Gayatri and her father. Within minutes, the entire group lay vanquished.

Gayatri and her father stared, stunned and wide-eyed, at the ethereal warrior before them. Kmk turned, his gaze meeting theirs.

Kmk: You all need to get out of here now! Find shelter!

Gayatri’s father, still reeling from the sudden turn of events, pulled her hand and hurried her away. But Gayatri’s eyes remained fixed on Kmk, a strange, undeniable pull, a feeling she had never experienced before. It was as if love had struck at first sight, amidst the chaos of battle.

Her father eventually led her to a safe haven, but the battle for Rajamahendravaram raged on. It continued relentlessly until sunset, culminating in a climactic showdown at the historic Dowleswaram Barrage. There, Kmk, the embodiment of divine justice, finally delivered the killing blow to Ugrasura before vanishing as suddenly as he had appeared.

As the dust settled and the last vestiges of fear receded, the people of Rajamahendravaram emerged from their hiding places. Gayatri and her father made their way back home, the entire battle replaying on television screens across the nation. The news channels hailed Kmk as the “Hero of Andhra and Bharat – Dhruva.”

Gayatri, watching the footage of Kmk’s valiant struggle, felt a torrent of emotions. Her inner monologue swirled with questions: Who is he? How did he save us all? And what is this feeling? Is this… love? I’ve never felt anything like this before. How will I ever meet him again?

Scene shifts to 

Chintalapalli-Malikipuram Road Turning Point, near Lake - Bhargava’s House next day 

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the tranquil lake. On the rooftop of Bhargava’s house, Kmk stood motionless, his gaze fixed intently on Lakshmi’s house across the way. His mind, usually a whirlwind of divine power and strategic thought, was clouded by a singular, earthly preoccupation.

Bhargava emerged onto the rooftop behind him, a slight gust of wind rustling his hair. “Bro, Kmk,” he began, his voice a little hesitant, “there’s something about you on TV.”

Kmk didn't turn, his eyes still narrowed on the house in the distance. “My only focus right now is on Lakshmi and her… goddamn boyfriend,” he muttered, a raw edge to his voice. “Just tell me what it is. Anything new on TV?”

Bhargava shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with Kmk's intensity. “Well, the authorities… they want to thank you. For saving the city of Rajamahendravaram.”

Kmk finally turned, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “So, I have to go back to Rajamahendravaram again tomorrow?”

“Of course, you have to go!” Bhargava exclaimed, relief evident in his tone. “It’s a big deal, bro. They’re calling you the hero.”

Kmk sighed, the weight of his personal frustrations momentarily overshadowing the civic duty. “Alright then.”

Scene shifts 

Rajamahendravaram City Center - Next Day Morning

The same news report that bhargava saw also played on the television in Gayatri’s home. Her heart swelled with a mixture of pride and longing as she watched the heroic deeds of the mysterious warrior. Turning to her parents, a hopeful glint in her eyes, she pleaded, "Can we go? Please?" Her parents, seeing her earnestness, readily agreed.

The next morning, Rajamahendravaram’s city center buzzed with an electric anticipation. Authority officers had arranged a grand welcome and felicitation ceremony to honor Dhruva. A colossal crowd, a vibrant tapestry of faces, had gathered, their excitement a palpable hum in the air. Among them, craning her neck, was Gayatri, her gaze fixed on the empty stage.

Then, the sky shimmered. A brilliant, divine light, a familiar blend of blue and white, appeared directly above the assembly. It intensified, then descended, revealing Dhruva (Kmk). He landed with quiet grace on the red carpet, a stark contrast to the thunderous applause that erupted. He walked directly towards the stage, a path clearing before him. News reporters, a frenzied swarm, rushed forward, microphones thrust out, but Kmk, with an almost ethereal swiftness, was already ascending the steps.

“Who are you?!” shouted one reporter, his voice strained. “You look like you’re only 19 years old! Are you 19? The Asuras called you Dhruva, is that your name? How do you have that kind of power?”

Kmk, his expression calm, didn’t answer immediately. Authority officers, beaming, presented him with an award for saving their city. As he accepted it, he made a move to leave, but the persistent chorus of reporters demanded, “Say something! Please! Just a few words!”

Kmk hesitated, then took the microphone. His voice, clear and steady, resonated across the square.

Kmk: "Namaskāram, everyone. I honestly don't know how to say anything meaningful on a stage like this. But I can only offer my heartfelt thanks to the authorities, the elders, and all the brothers and sisters who came here for me and arranged this. Thank you to all of you."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before landing on the eager faces of the reporters.

Kmk: "And for the news reporters here is my answer: I am Dhruva, the Dharmic Warrior, or simply, you can call me Dharma Rakshaka. I am chosen by Lord Vishnu and Dhruva to save the world and uphold dharma from Asura invasions. And I will do it until my last breath."

With those words, Kmk handed back the microphone and stepped down from the stage, preparing to depart. But the crowd, ignited by his powerful declaration, surged forward, their voices rising in a deafening crescendo. “Dhruva! Dhruva! Dhruva!” they chanted, rushing towards him, eager hands reaching out for an autograph.

Kmk: (Trying to navigate through the sea of people) Please, everyone, try to understand! I have to go!

As he attempted to extricate himself from the fervent throng, a mysterious hand gently clasped his from behind. Kmk turned, and his gaze met Gayatri’s. Time seemed to stop. The cacophony of the crowd faded to a distant hum. For what felt like an eternity, their eyes locked, a silent current flowing between them.

Kmk: (His voice soft, almost a whisper) Can you please… let me go, Miss?

Gayatri: (Her voice a breathy whisper) Y-yes… but please, could you… give me your autograph?

Kmk: (A small, gentle smile touching his lips) Of course.

Gayatri, her hand trembling slightly, offered him a small, worn notebook. Kmk quickly signed it and handed it back.

Gayatri: (Her voice gaining a little strength) I’m Gayatri. I’m your biggest fan!

Kmk: (His smile widening slightly) Thank you so much, Miss Gayatri.

Before Gayatri could fully register his words, Kmk launched himself skyward, a streak of blue and white light vanishing into the clear sky. Gayatri was left standing in the middle of the bewildered crowd, her hand clutching the notebook. After a few stunned moments, she looked down at the signature.

Gayatri’s Inner Monologue: Why did he sign his name ‘Kmk’ when he just said his name is Dhruva? A tiny, enigmatic smile played on her lips as she hugged the book to her chest. Anyway… I met him again!

Scene shifts to 

Gayatri’s House in Rajamahendravaram

Gayatri sat on her bed, her gaze fixed on the small, worn notebook clutched in her hands. The signature inside, "Kmk," swirled in her mind, a perplexing mystery attached to the heroic figure of Dhruva. She was lost in thought, replaying every moment of their brief encounter, when the muffled murmur of her parents’ voices drifted into her room.

Curiosity tugged at her, and she stepped out, walking quietly towards the main hall. Her father’s voice, laced with a new urgency, cut through the air.

Gayatri’s Father: We can’t stay here anymore, Gayatri’s mother. It’s too dangerous. These Asuras… they might attack us again.

He looked up, his eyes meeting Gayatri’s, a somber expression on his face. “Come, Gayatri. We were just discussing something important.” He sighed, the weight of their decision evident. “We’re thinking about leaving the city. Moving back to our village, mogallamuru.”

Gayatri’s heart sank.

Gayatri’s Father: Pack your things. We’re leaving soon. And once we’re there, we’ll arrange your marriage after finding a perfect husband.

Gayatri: (Her voice catching in her throat) What? Marriage?! So soon?

Her father, seeing the shock on her face, quickly softened his tone. “Alright, alright, not yet. But we are definitely leaving this city.”

With that, Gayatri’s parents began to busy themselves, gathering and packing their belongings. Gayatri watched them, a profound sense of despair creeping into her heart. Her inner monologue echoed with a silent plea: We’re leaving? But… if we leave the city, will I ever be able to meet Dhruva again?

Scene shifts to 

En Route to Mogallamuru Village

The car hummed steadily along the familiar, yet somehow alien, road. Gayatri sat by the window, watching the landscape blur by, a strange mix of anticipation and melancholy settling over her. She hadn't been back to her ancestral village, Mogallamuru, in years – not since she was a wide-eyed ten-year-old.

As they drove deeper into the countryside, old landmarks began to surface, altered by time. Small, humble temples she remembered from her childhood, once modest shrines, now stood grand and imposing, their intricate carvings gleaming under the sun. They felt entirely different, imbued with a new, almost overwhelming sense of sanctity. Then came the stretch of road lined with shops, their facades distinct yet carrying echoes of her memories. The familiar names were there, but the bustling energy and modern storefronts were a stark contrast to the sleepy, quaint establishments she remembered.

After a few more minutes, the car finally turned onto a narrow lane, signaling their entry into Mogallamuru. The air immediately felt softer, imbued with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. Their house, nestled amidst a cluster of trees, appeared, looking both unchanged and utterly new.

Stepping out of the car, Gayatri was immediately enveloped in a warm embrace. Her uncle, her father’s younger brother, stood there, his face crinkling into a joyful smile. He had always been so friendly, a patient guide who explained everything about their village when she was a child. He was the one who taught her the names of the local birds and the stories behind the ancient banyan trees. Seeing him, and then her aunt, brought a genuine smile to Gayatri’s face. Despite the turmoil of leaving Rajamahendravaram, a comforting warmth spread through her. She was truly happy to be reunited with her beloved uncle and aunt again.

Gayatri’s House, Mogallamuru Village - Later That Night

The night air in Mogallamuru was cool and still, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the mango tree outside. Gayatri sat on the veranda of her new-old home, the worn little notebook still clutched in her hand. A profound sense of peace settled over her from being reunited with her family, yet her thoughts were a whirlwind of blue and white light. She couldn't shake the image of Kmk, his piercing gaze, the moment their hands touched. The memory flashed vividly—the chaos of the Asura attack, his sudden arrival, his powerful presence, and then his eyes locking with hers, making time itself seem to halt.

A soft voice broke through her reverie. Her uncle had approached from behind, his footsteps quiet. “What are you doing out here, Gayatri, at this hour?”

Gayatri startled, brought back to the present with a jolt. She turned towards him, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “It’s nothing, Uncle.”

Her uncle, ever perceptive, sat down beside her. “No, you’re definitely thinking about something important. I can tell.”

Gayatri hesitated, then sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Alright, Uncle. I’ll tell you the truth. I was thinking about Dhruva.”

Her uncle raised an eyebrow, a puzzled expression on his face. “Dhruva? Who is this Dhruva?”

Gayatri: The one who saved Rajamahendravaram a few days ago. The hero on TV.

Uncle: (A light of recognition dawning in his eyes) Oh, yes! The young man, isn’t he? About 19 years old, I believe? I saw him on TV. He was incredible, single-handedly saving the city when it was attacked by those dreadful Asuras.

Gayatri: (Her voice filled with an undeniable reverence) Yes, that’s him. That’s Dhruva.

Uncle: But why are you thinking about him so deeply, child?

Gayatri looked out at the dark expanse of the village, a vulnerability in her eyes. “Because he saved me and Father, Uncle. Right when those Asuras were about to strike. I… I met him once. And I just want to meet him again. To properly thank him for saving us. That’s all.”

She stood abruptly, heading back inside the house, leaving her uncle on the veranda. He watched her go, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

Uncle’s Inner Monologue: Why was she thinking about him? There’s more to this than just gratitude. He glanced towards the door where she’d disappeared. I will soon find out what is truly in your mind, and your heart, Gayatri.

Scene shifts to 

Next Day Morning

The morning sun cast a warm glow over Mogallamuru. Gayatri had just finished her daily chores, the scent of fresh water and devotion lingering on her as she stepped out of her house. The village was slowly waking, a gentle hum of daily life beginning to stir.

Suddenly, a loud, joyful shout pierced the peaceful quiet. “Gayatri!”

Gayatri looked up, startled. A young woman, vibrant and full of energy, was practically sprinting towards her gate. She looked to be about Gayatri’s age. The woman rushed forward, closing the distance in a blur of movement, and without a moment’s hesitation, threw her arms around Gayatri in a tight hug.

Young Woman: You came back after such a long time! I can’t believe it!

Gayatri, still a bit stunned, returned the embrace cautiously. “Excuse me… who are you?”

The woman pulled back, a wide smile on her face. “You forgot about me? It’s me, Divya! Your childhood friend! We used to play together when we were ten, remember?”

A wave of recognition washed over Gayatri. “Divya!” Her face broke into a genuine smile, and she hugged her friend back with renewed warmth.

They started walking side-by-side along the village roads, the years between them melting away with every shared memory. Their stroll took them to the local Goddess Durga matha temple, a place of quiet reverence. After offering their prayers and completing their darshan, they began to walk back, the gentle rhythms of the village enveloping them.

As they walked, Divya’s observant gaze lingered on Gayatri. “I’ve been noticing you, ever since I met you again,” Divya said, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “You’re happy, but there’s something else on your mind. So, come on, spill it. Is something happening? Or is it… is there someone? Have you fallen in love, Gayatri?”

Gayatri’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she looked away, suddenly shy.

Divya: (A triumphant grin spreading across her face) So, it’s true! There is someone! Now, tell me, who is he? Don’t hold out on your best friend!

Gayatri: (Lowering her voice) Don’t tell anyone, Divya. Promise me. He… he’s a warrior. His name is Dhruva.

Divya’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping slightly. “What?! Dhruva? The same boy who saved Rajamahendravaram a few days ago? The one on TV?”

Gayatri: Yes.

Divya: (Her voice rising in disbelief) Are you out of your mind, Gayatri?! I saw the news! He’s only 19 years old! And you’re 24, for heaven’s sake!

Gayatri: (Looking at the ground, a wistful sigh escaping her) I… I don’t know about all that. But it was… it was love at first sight, Divya.

Divya: (Skeptical) Love at first sight? Gayatri, do you even think you can ever meet him again? Do you know who he really is, or where he lives?

Gayatri: (Her voice gaining a quiet determination) I don’t know all that. But I know… one day, I will definitely meet him again. Just promise me you won’t tell anyone.

Divya: I won’t. But what will you say to your parents if they want to arrange a marriage for you? Do you want to go against your father and reject all the proposals?

Gayatri: (Her gaze hardening slightly) I will try to make my parents agree.

Divya: And if they don’t agree with you, Gayatri? What then?

Gayatri looked out at the tranquil village, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, but her resolve remained. “I don’t know… but I will try.”

The Hilly Realm

The air in the desolate, hilly realm crackled with dark energy, a sickly green haze clinging to the jagged peaks. A gaunt, shadowy messenger, twisted by the negative energy of human bad karma, materialized. He bowed deeply, almost touching his forehead to the corrupted earth.

Messenger: Where are you, Lord Adharma Purusha? Your great-great-grandson, Kaliyuga Purusha, has sent a message for you.

A form began to coalesce from the swirling negativity – a coalescing of human greed, hatred, and despair. It solidified, taking the appearance of a young man, roughly nineteen years old. This was Adharma Purusha himself. The messenger instantly fell to his knees, head bowed in utter subservience.

Adharma Purusha: (His voice, though youthful, resonated with an ancient, chilling power) Raise your head and speak. What is the message?

 The messenger slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes widening in stunned recognition as he looked at Adharma Purusha’s new form.

Messenger: This… this form, my Lord…?

Adharma Purusha: (A cold, cruel smile played on his lips) Yes. This form is far better than any other I have ever taken before. Don’t you think? It’s… perfect.

The camera then shifted, revealing Adharma Purusha’s terrifying new appearance. He looked exactly like Kmk, every detail from his youthful features to his demeanor chillingly mirrored.

Adharma Purusha: This form of Kmk… it looks more powerful, more perfect than any other. Don’t you agree? Now, speak. What did my great-great-grandson say?

The messenger fumbled with a tightly rolled scroll, his hands trembling as he opened it. He began to read, his voice a nervous whisper:

Messenger: "To my great-great-grandfather, Adharma Purusha, from the ruler of the Kali Yuga. I have heard that you have sent five great Asura generals, and one of them, Ugrasura, has been killed by a Dharmic Warrior named Dhruva – whose form you seem to have usurped. I also heard you have sent multiple warriors against him a new dharmic warrior kirtiMukha (Ajay) , but don't you see, great-great-grandfather? You are failing in every attempt, on every front. Don't you think my plan is far more perfect than yours? A direct attack on Earth and its humans is nothing but a flawed strategy, and you have become a perfect example of a great failure!"

Adharma Purusha: (His youthful features contorting in a mask of pure, demonic rage, his voice a low growl that shook the very ground) WHAT NONSENSE IS THIS?!

 The messenger immediately bowed his head, trembling uncontrollably. “These are not my words, Lord! Forgive me!”

Adharma Purusha: (His voice still seething, yet regaining a measure of control) I don’t know what the hell my great-great-grandson is thinking about himself, but I will prove to him that I am the most powerful Asura in the entire universe!

With a swift, imperious gesture, Adharma Purusha summoned two fearsome, grotesque Asuras from the surrounding darkness.

Adharma Purusha: there will be more dharmic warrior Find a new Dharmic Warrior! And end his life before he gains his divine powers!

The two Asuras bowed deeply, their forms dissolving into shadows as they vanished, eager to carry out their master’s cruel command.

Scene shifts to 

Gayatri’s House, Mogallamuru Village - Night

The moon hung high, a pale disc in the velvet sky, casting soft shadows across Gayatri’s room. She sat by her window, her gaze fixed on the celestial orb, her thoughts once again drifting to Kmk, the warrior who had captivated her heart. The quiet peace of the village was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions swirling within her.

Suddenly, a loud, guttural thud ripped through the silence from outside. Gayatri stiffened, her heart leaping into her throat. Who could that be at this hour? she thought, a prickle of unease spreading down her spine.

She cautiously stepped out of her room and into the main hall, then moved towards the front door. Pushing it open, she peered into the inky blackness of the night. “Uncle? Is that you?” she called out, her voice a hesitant whisper. She looked around, scanning the familiar contours of her house and the nearby trees, but saw no one.

Then, the loud sound came again, closer this time, seemingly from the dense shadows near the back of their property. Gayatri’s hand instinctively went to her phone, turning on the flashlight. She aimed the beam towards the source of the noise. The narrow cone of light cut through the darkness, illuminating only empty space, the familiar outlines of bushes and the edge of the fields. There was no one else there.

But then, out of the deepest shadows, two pinpricks of glowing red appeared, like malevolent embers. They began to move, swiftly, silently, hurtling directly towards her. Before Gayatri could react, before she could even utter a scream, a demonic hand, cold and rough, clamped over her mouth from behind, silencing her.

She was seized by two monstrous figures—the two Asuras sent by Adharma Purusha.

First Asura: (His voice a low growl, laced with mild surprise) I thought it would be a young man. But it says… a young woman.

Second Asura: (His voice dismissive) That is none of our concern. Our Lord Adharma Purusha ordered us to kill the new Dharmic Warrior before they can gain their full powers. We have to follow his orders.

The second Asura paused, his head cocking slightly as if sensing something. “He’s coming.”

First Asura: Who?

Second Asura: (A chilling smirk on his face) Dhruva.

Gayatri’s eyes, wide with terror, widened further. A shockwave of realization, mixed with a sliver of desperate hope, coursed through her. Dhruva! The name echoed in her mind, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

Scene shifts to 

The Sky Above Mogallamuru

The moon, a silent witness, watched as Kmk streaked across the night sky, a faint blue and white glow marking his rapid passage towards Mogallamuru village. The wind whipped past him, but his enhanced senses were already zeroing in on the discordant energy signature below – the unmistakable taint of Asuras.

His phone buzzed, vibrating against his hand. He quickly answered it, bringing it to his ear.

Kmk: (Voice slightly muffled by the rushing wind) Hello?

It was Bhargava, his voice laced with concern.

Bhargava: Bro, Kmk! I just came to your house. Where are you? Everything alright?

Kmk: (His focus unwavering on the distant village lights) Sorry, Bhargava. I’m heading towards an unknown village. I sensed some Asura energy near it. I’ll call you later, after I’ve dealt with them.

With that, Kmk ended the call, his speed increased