The Flames of Destiny

In the town, a tall man wearing a long brown coat and a wide-brimmed hat was investigating the area where the two monsters had fought.
His name was Aryan Singha, the Great Detective — and also the father of Rudra Singha.

As he examined the destroyed roads and shattered buildings, he noticed something unusual — strange rocks with traces of lava and a long, coarse hair lying on the ground.

Aryan knelt down and said,

“Hmm… these rocks and this hair must have come from those two creatures. Officer, collect all of this and send it to the forensic lab. I want the results as soon as possible.”

The officer nodded quickly.

“Yes, sir.”

Aryan stood silently for a moment, staring at the wreckage.

“How did these monsters appear here? Will they attack again? We have no idea… but we must be ready,” he said thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, news reporters were broadcasting the event.

“Yesterday, two mysterious creatures fought in the city, causing massive destruction. But the real question is — where did they come from? Could this be the beginning of the end for our world? This is the first incident of its kind in history.”

When they spotted Detective Aryan nearby, they rushed toward him with microphones.

“Sir! Sir! Can you tell us what’s happening?”

But Aryan ignored them, stepped into his car, and drove to the headquarters to analyze the evidence.

Rudra was still in shock. He couldn’t understand how the Black Sadhu knew his name.
The tall, dark figure stepped forward and spoke in a deep voice.

“Dear Rudra… my name is Aghori, and I am the leader of the Black Sadhus. Welcome to my world… hehehe.”

Rudra clenched his fists.

“What do you want from me?”

Aghori smirked.

“Nothing much… just your bracelet. The Saktra. Give it to me willingly, or you will die.”

Rudra glared at him.

“No! You’re a monster. You don’t deserve this bracelet — and I know its history!”

He touched the bracelet, and flames burst from his body. His form changed — his skin glowed like fire, and his eyes blazed red.
He had transformed into Agni, the flame demon who once fought Rakshasa.

Rudra looked at his new form and shouted,

“Ohhh yeah… that flame demon! Now I’ll burn you down!”

Aghori laughed.

“So you’ve captured the energy of Agni… impressive. But now, prepare to die, foolish child!”

He raised his hand, signaling his followers.
At once, dozens of Black Sadhus rushed toward Rudra.

Agni roared and hurled fireballs in every direction, scorching the ground. Many Sadhus were burned or thrown back by the explosions.

“Take this, you cowards!” he shouted.

He then launched a massive fireball toward Aghori — but Aghori waved his hand, and the flames vanished in an instant.

“Pathetic,” Aghori said coldly.

Agni charged forward, but Aghori muttered a spell. Invisible energy wrapped tightly around Agni’s body, lifting him into the air.

“You should have listened, Rudra,” Aghori said calmly.
“I gave you a chance. Give me the Saktra, and I will spare your life.”

Agni struggled in pain, growling,

“No! Even if I die, I’ll never give it to a monster like you!”

Aghori’s face twisted in rage.

“Then die!”

The magical bonds tightened, and Agni screamed in pain — but suddenly, a bright light appeared nearby.

A new voice echoed through the jungle.

“Release him, Aghori!”

The invisible spell shattered instantly. Agni fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
He looked up and saw a familiar figure — the Sadhu who had been guiding him.

“Thank you… Babaji,” Agni said weakly.

Aghori’s expression changed.

“Valmiki… I knew it. It’s you.”

Valmiki replied firmly,

“So, you still remember me… my deceitful friend.”

The jungle fell silent, the air thick with power — as two ancient forces faced each other once again.