The Tribe that rules beneath the Earth

As they ran deeper into the dark cave, something unnatural occurred. Instead of being swallowed by darkness, the tunnel slowly began to brighten.

Shinzo and the old dwarf clung tightly to Hiroshi’s back as he sprinted forward with full force. Flames burst from his heels, carving a blazing trail along the stone floor. The roar of displaced air echoed through the passage as his speed continued to rise.

After a short while, the tunnel abruptly split in two, halting them at a sudden crossroads.

Hiroshi slowed just enough to shout, “Now what?”

“To the left!” the old dwarf answered without hesitation.

Hiroshi obeyed instantly and surged forward once more.

Minutes passed in relentless motion. The heat, the wind, the strain—none of it slowed him down.

Then, suddenly, the path ended.

A massive obstruction loomed before them. A colossal door sealed the tunnel completely, blocking whatever lay beyond.

The dwarf and Shinzo hopped off Hiroshi's back.

Shinzo stared up at it and asked quietly, “Where does this door lead to?”

They all examined it closely. The door was forged from pure metal, its surface covered in golden engravings etched into intricate, mystical patterns. At its exact center, a peacock feather was embedded—crafted from emerald and indigo resin, faintly shimmering in the light.

Hiroshi’s breath caught. His eyes widened as recognition struck him.

“Wait… this… this place,” he muttered. “Dwarika…”

The old dwarf smiled faintly. “Yes, Hiroshi. You’ve guessed it right. It leads to Dwarika.”

He stepped forward and firmly placed his hand upon the door.

“May the doors to Dwarika open.”

The engravings flared to life. Golden light surged through every carved line, pulsing like veins filled with fire. With a deep, ancient groan, the massive doors slowly parted.

Blinding light flooded outward, washing over their faces.

Beyond the threshold lay a city.

Old—yet vast.

Countless tiny huts and grand halls stretched across the cavern floor, preserved in an eerie stillness. Time itself seemed to hesitate within those streets.

At the heart of the city stood a single, overwhelming presence.

A giant tree.

Ancient and majestic, it towered above everything else. Its leaves glowed with a golden-green radiance, and clusters of small, berry-like fruits hung from its branches—each one shining like molten gold.

“Hiroshi… and the guy… welcome to Dwarika,” the old dwarf said softly.

Shinzo blinked in disbelief. “Firstly, my name is Shinzo. And secondly—according to you—this is Dwarika?”

“Yes.”

Shinzo swallowed hard. “The Dwarika?”

“Yes.”

“The city ruled by the Hindu god… Krishna?”

The dwarf inhaled deeply, savoring the air as if it carried memories older than time. “Yes. This is it. The legend—right in front of you to witness.”

Shinzo staggered back a step. “B-But… wasn’t it sunken under the sea according to mythology?”

“The answer is yes—and no, at the same time,” the old dwarf replied.

He gestured toward the depths beneath the city. “This city was sunken when the curse upon Krishna came true and his entire bloodline perished. But years later, massive tectonic plate shifts created a colossal sinkhole beneath the seabed, dragging this city further down into the depths.”

He continued calmly, “The entrance from the seabed was mostly sealed by debris. However, small openings remained, allowing seawater to flow in the form of an underground river.”

He pointed ahead. “That river is not far from where we stand now.”

Shinzo let out a breathless laugh. “Oh damn… this lore goes deep.”

They stepped forward into the ancient city. Silent streets welcomed them, heavy with history.

Hiroshi said nothing. He simply stared ahead, still frozen in shock.

The old dwarf spoke again, his voice steady but heavy with history. “After the ancient city fell into these depths, it was left completely in ruins. Over time, my people discovered it—broken, abandoned, yet still standing. It became a place they could call home. We rebuilt what we could, stone by stone, memory by memory.”

Shinzo folded his arms and glanced around exaggeratedly. “Oh wow,” he said sarcastically. “What a perfect place to build a civilization.”

He turned toward Hiroshi mid-sentence—then stopped.

Hiroshi stood frozen. His eyes were wide, unfocused, slowly tracing the vast underground city as if searching for something buried deep within it.

“This… this place…” he whispered. “Dwarika… I’ve been here…”

His memories surged without warning.

Fragments collided—blurred, cloudy, fleeting. A human child and a dwarf child ran through these same streets, laughter echoing between ancient walls. Joy, warmth, innocence—moments long lost to time.

Hiroshi flinched as a gentle tug pulled at his coat, snapping him back to reality.

It was the old dwarf.

Hiroshi looked down at him carefully now. Really looked at him. The dwarf’s face stirred something unmistakable—something unforgettable.

“T-To… Toko…?” Hiroshi whispered.

Tears welled in his eyes.

Hiroshi collapsed to his knees.

“Yes,” the dwarf said, his own voice trembling. “Yes, my friend. It’s me.”

Hiroshi wrapped his arms around him tightly. Toko returned the embrace, patting his back in quiet reassurance.

Shinzo scratched his head, clearly overwhelmed. “Uh… excuse me,” he said. “What the heck? Do you know him?”

Hiroshi slowly stood up, wiping his eyes and sniffing.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I do. When I was much younger—seven years old—I was brought here by Bajuro to train.”

Shinzo blinked. “Bajuro? You mean… Majuro’s great-great-great grandfather?”

“Exactly,” Hiroshi said. “I lived and trained here alongside Toko. My training was supposed to last five years.”

“But,” Toko interrupted with a faint smile, “Mr. ‘Superhero of the World’ mastered everything in under a year.”

Hiroshi chuckled softly. “Yeah… but we still spent that year together. Training, playing, just… living.”

“And when his training was complete,” Toko continued, turning toward him, “he was taken back. You said you’d come back to meet me. I didn’t think you meant after this long.”

Hiroshi looked away. “Yeah… two hundred and ten years isn’t exactly a short delay. I can’t even make an excuse.”

Shinzo froze.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “WHAT?! You’ve been alive for two hundred and ten years?!”

Toko nodded calmly. “All thanks to Kalp-Vriksha’s power.”

Shinzo tilted his head. “Kalp… what?”

“Kalp-Vriksha,” Toko explained. “The Tree of Life. Known as Yggdrasil or Arbor Vitae in other mythologies.”

Shinzo’s eyes lit up like fireworks.

“It really exists?!” he gasped. He leaned forward immediately, voice dripping with forced politeness. “Can you show it to me, please?”

He blinked excessively.

Toko recoiled slightly. “Uh… okay…?”

He leaned in and whispered to Hiroshi. “Is he always like this?”

Hiroshi sighed. “As far as I’ve seen—after spending a month with him. Twenty-four seven. Three hundred sixty-five days a year.”

Toko nodded solemnly. “I guessed as much.”

Shinzo stood awkwardly, glancing between them. “So… are we going?”

Toko sighed. “Yes.”

The moment the word left his mouth, Shinzo burst forward.

“Let’s go~!”

The other two followed behind him, stepping deeper into the heart of Dwarika.

While they walked through the underground city, Toko suddenly spoke.

“I wish your friends Krimson and Ryumi could’ve been here too…”

Hiroshi stopped mid-step. The change in his expression was immediate, his features tightening as sadness quietly surfaced. Shinzo noticed and halted beside him.

Toko froze, realizing something was wrong. “I’m sorry… did I ask something I shouldn’t have?”

Shinzo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uhh… yeah. Krimson is my great-great-great grandfather. He passed away due to old age. And Ryumi…”

Toko’s voice softened. “Oh… what happened to her? Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“She’s alive,” Hiroshi said after a brief pause. “We don’t know where she is… yet.”

Toko stepped closer and patted Hiroshi’s back, struggling a little to even reach it. “Don’t worry. You’ll find her soon.”

They continued walking, moving past rows of stone huts carved into the cavern walls.

As they walked, Toko turned his attention to Shinzo and began chatting casually. “So, you’re the descendant of Krimson, eh? What traits do you have?”

“Brilliant, extremely charming, and an engineer who likes tech a lot,” Shinzo replied confidently.

“I didn’t know we were playing one truth and two lies.”

With that, Toko suddenly sped up.

“Yeah, I mean—” Shinzo stopped mid-sentence as realization hit him. “Wait, what the heck?!”

Hiroshi chuckled. Shinzo leaned closer and whispered, “Isn’t this old man too much for his age?”

“Don’t mind him,” Hiroshi replied. “He likes to joke.”

“Yeah, you’d say that,” Shinzo muttered. “He’s your ‘old friend,’ after all.”

Hiroshi draped an arm around Shinzo’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. There’s a difference between a friend and a brother. He’s my friend. You’re my brother.”

“Thanks…” Shinzo said softly.

“Yeah,” Hiroshi added jokingly, “but friends are superior.”

With that, Hiroshi suddenly sped up as well.

“Aww, thanks—” Shinzo paused, realization dawning a second too late. “Wait, what?!”

He immediately broke into a run, chasing both Hiroshi and Toko.

“Toko, you better speed up!” Hiroshi shouted.

Toko glanced back just as Hiroshi overtook him. “Why tho—” He looked past Hiroshi and saw Shinzo charging straight at him. “AAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Toko bolted forward, somehow running even faster than Hiroshi.

While running, they eventually reached the massive tree.

Just as Hiroshi and Toko were about to collide with it, both sidestepped effortlessly.

Shinzo wasn’t so lucky.

He crashed straight into the ancient, mystical wood, his face instantly turning red.

“Welcome to the Tree of Life,” Toko said cheerfully. “Kalp-Vriksha.”

“That’s NOT a way to welcome someone!” Shinzo shouted, his face still pressed against the bark.

Hiroshi burst into laughter, and even Toko couldn’t help chuckling.

Trying to ignore them, Shinzo looked up at the massive tree towering above him. The moment he took it in fully, his irritation evaporated.

“It’s… so cool.”

“Yeah,” Toko said proudly. “It is. This tree is more than a thousand years old. My ancestors found an antique vase—probably from Krishna’s era. Inside was a golden, glowing seed. It sprouted into this mystical tree.”

Shinzo examined it carefully and noticed small, golden, berry-like fruits hanging among the branches.

“What are those berries?” he asked.

“Those are the Golden Amalaki,” Toko explained. “They contain the nectar of life. No matter how bad an injury is, eating even one heals you instantly. We harvest them seasonally.”

“Can it—”

“No,” Toko cut him off immediately. “It can’t bring the dead back to life.”

“…Alright.”

Shinzo turned to Hiroshi, who seemed completely uninterested, casually looking around instead.

“Well, you don’t seem impressed.”

“I’ve lived here for a year,” Hiroshi replied. “I know this place better than you.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me about it.”

Hiroshi cleared his throat. “This city is thousand feet below the Earth’s surface, built inside this giant cavern within a dense underground tunnel system. There are exactly twenty-seven tunnels branching out to different locations. The people here still use hydral energy, and most light sources are candles, but the cavern itself is illuminated by the Kalp-Vriksha’s glow. There’s a river nearby and a mine right here. People eat together in a separate dining area—twenty chefs work daily to feed everyone. Life here is simple. Wake up, mine resources, eat, sleep. Anything else needed?”

Shinzo swallowed nervously. “No…”

“Good.”

“Wait,” Shinzo added. “You said there’s a mine. Where?”

“Right behind this tree,” Toko said.

They walked around it and saw a massive quarry in the distance, placed far from the houses to keep mining dust away. Three mineshafts stretched in different directions. On the far right stood a lone house and a laboratory, isolated from the rest.

“Damn,” Shinzo muttered. “The mining work here is efficient.”

As he processed everything he had learned, something suddenly clicked in his head.

“Wait… Toko, you said this place is in India.”

“Yes.”

“And India is in Asia.” Shinzo added.

“Yes…”

“But we were in North America before.”

“So?”

Shinzo snapped. “Is this dude dumb?! How the hell did we come from North America to Asia?!”

“We ran till here.”

Shinzo grabbed his head in frustration. “HOW THE HELL DID HIROSHI RUN TWELVE THOUSAND KILOMETERS IN MINUTES?!”

“Ohhh,” Toko said casually. “I forgot to mention—the path we took is supported by Master Bajuro’s magic. Each kilometer inside that tunnel equals nearly a thousand kilometers on Earth.”

“This makes zero sense,” Shinzo groaned. “No logic at all…”

“Well,” Toko replied calmly, “sometimes it’s better to believe in magic instead of logic. It makes things easier to understand.”

“Yeah, yeah… whatever…”

As they stood near the mines, Toko suddenly stiffened, as if something had struck him out of nowhere.

“Wait…” he said slowly. “What’s the date today?”

Shinzo blinked. “Uhh… I forgot.” He turned toward Hiroshi. “Hiroshi, what’s the date?”

Hiroshi was still studying the mines, his eyes following the movement of the workers below.

“Huh?” he muttered. “Oh. The date. It’s the sixteenth of September.”

Toko froze.

“Wait… sixteenth…” His eyes widened. “So tomorrow will be the seventeenth…” His voice rose sharply. “W–wait—SEVENTEENTH SEPTEMBER?!”

Hiroshi let out a long, tired sigh.

Shinzo frowned. “What’s wrong with seventeenth September?”

“It’s Hiroshi’s birthday tomorrow!” Toko exclaimed.

Shinzo’s face lit up instantly. “Wait—YOOOOOOO! It’s your birthday tomorrow?!”

Hiroshi didn’t look amused. “It’s also the day the Varkonians invaded.”

Toko waved that off immediately. “Nah. You can’t avoid it now. You’ve gotta celebrate.”

Before Hiroshi could say anything else, Toko cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice.

“Listen, everyone working in the mines and all of Dwarika! Please stop your work for this one announcement!”

The city froze.

Drills fell silent. Pickaxes were lowered. One by one, dwarves stepped out of their houses, gathering to see what was happening.

“Our saviour, Hiroshi, has returned!” Toko announced proudly. “Tomorrow is his birthday! And I want everyone to be present and celebrate with joy!”

Cheers erupted instantly. Applause echoed through the cavern, voices rising in excitement.

“Alright,” Toko added cheerfully. “You can go back to work now.”

The mood flipped just as fast.

The crowd dispersed with visible disappointment. Drills roared back to life. Pickaxes struck stone. Doors shut as everyone returned to their duties.

But as the city settled again, the door of the distant house—far from the others—swung open.

A boy with red hair stepped out, a strange red mark visible across his left eye.

“Oy! Old man!” he shouted angrily. “Can’t you see I’m practicing? Don’t create a nuisance!”

He stormed back inside, slamming the door shut.

Hiroshi stared in that direction. “Wait… another human living with the dwarves? Who’s he?”

Toko let out a quiet sigh. “That’s Krooke. Majuro’s grandson. Don’t mind him… He lost his parents at birth. His only relative, Majuro, left somewhere about a month ago.”

Hiroshi’s expression sharpened. “Majuro’s grandson…?” He paused. “Majuro mentioned him before. Said he’s a doctor.” He turned abruptly. “I have to go meet him. Shinzo, give me the cube.”

Without hesitation, Shinzo pulled the cube from his backpack and tossed it. Hiroshi caught it cleanly.

“Yeah, but there’s really no need to—” Toko stopped mid-sentence.

Hiroshi was already gone.

Toko stared after him, stunned. “What just happened? It’s rare he doesn’t listen to what I say.”

Shinzo hesitated. “It’s just…” His voice dropped. “We lost Majuro yesterday.”

Toko’s expression softened. “Oh… that’s bad.” He lowered his head slightly. “May he rest in peace.”

Hiroshi reached the house. He stood in front of the isolated house and knocked.

Knock!

Knock!

Knock!

“Go away! I’m busy!” a sharp voice snapped from inside.

“Krooke,” Hiroshi said calmly, “it’s me… Hiroshi.”

“I don’t care who you are,” the voice shot back. “I don’t have anything to do with you.”

Hiroshi hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh. “It’s… about your grandfather.”

There was a brief silence.

The door creaked open.

A boy stepped out, dressed neatly in formal clothes. His skin was fair, his eyes dark, and his hair a deep shade of red. Near his left eye was a strange red mark—neither paint nor tattoo, but a scar.

“What happened to him…?” Krooke asked quietly.

Hiroshi lowered his gaze. “We—no... I lost him.”

Krooke turned without another word and walked back inside, leaving the door open.

Hiroshi followed.

Inside, Krooke collapsed onto a couch. His shoulders trembled as soft sobs escaped him.

“How…” he whispered. “How did it happen…?”

“He died protecting this,” Hiroshi said.

He revealed the Cube.

The moment Krooke saw it, his grief twisted into rage.

“This cube…” His voice shook. “This damn CUBE!”

He lunged forward, reaching for it, but Hiroshi swiftly pulled it out of reach.

“It’s the reason the Varkonians invaded!” Krooke shouted. “And the reason my grandfather died! To hell with this cursed thing!”

Hiroshi didn’t raise his voice. “Your anger is justified. But we need your help. This cube is the only way to end the Varkonian invasion—the same way it began.”

Krooke clenched his fists.

“The only way we understood this cube,” Hiroshi continued, “was through a book. And with your grandfather… that knowledge vanished too.” He looked straight at him. “Do you know anything about this cube that could help us?”

Krooke laughed bitterly.

“Anything?” he said. “I know this cube better than my own self. I’ve spent my life reading ancient magic texts, learning everything I could. I even know you. Your past.”

Hiroshi stiffened.

“But I won’t tell you anything,” Krooke continued. “Not yet. I can’t trust you just because some old books decided to call you the ‘hero.’ So you gotta work hard if you want to get my mouth open.”

Hiroshi exhaled slowly. “Then what would I have to do—”

BOOM!

The explosion cut him off.

The entire cavern shook violently. Tremors rippled through Dwarika, dust raining down from above.

Hiroshi and Krooke bolted outside.

They sprinted toward the Kalp-Vriksha.

Shinzo and Toko were already there, standing frozen, eyes wide with shock.

“What happened?” Hiroshi demanded.

“A TNT blast uncovered something huge,” Toko replied urgently. “We need to go there. Now.”

All four of them rushed toward the mining site.

Miners were already running in the same direction, abandoning their tools, desperation and curiosity driving them forward.

Everyone converged on the middle mineshaft.

Hiroshi, Shinzo, Toko, and Krooke followed them into the depths.

They reached the endpoint of the mineshaft, where a massive, deep hole had been carved open by the TNT blast.

Toko stepped closer and looked around. “Is everything alright here?”

One of the miners nodded. “Yeah. We used TNT to mine deeper, but it uncovered something strange down there.”

Hiroshi stared below. It was a twenty feet deep hole. “This explosion… it’s almost as the same blast we heard back in America. I can’t believe the tremors can travel all the way there.”

“Actually, no,” Toko said casually. “I was in America because people reported zombie sightings. I used TNT to scare them away.” He paused. “And maybe that’s why you guys fell down.”

“Oh…” Hiroshi replied blankly.

“Let’s go down and check,” Krooke said.

Without waiting, Krooke jumped into the hole. Hiroshi, Shinzo, and Toko followed soon after.

At the bottom, the blast had revealed something far more unsettling than raw stone.

A door.

It was enormous, pitch black, and covered in eerie golden-red carvings that pulsed faintly. At its center was a tiny keyhole—unnaturally small compared to the size of the door itself.

“The door to the Hell Prison,” Krooke said.

“H-Hell Prison?” Hiroshi echoed.

“It’s a prison created by the Tyrants,” Krooke explained. “They sealed someone important inside. My great-great-great-great grandfather, Bajuro, once entered this place. He came back without rescuing the prisoner, saying the person would be freed when the right time came.” His voice darkened. “He used his magic to prevent evil beings from entering. It’s said only those with a pure heart can reach whoever is trapped inside.”

Hiroshi’s breath caught.

“When the time comes…”

The words echoed in his mind, overlapping with Majuro’s voice from his memories.

“Could it be… Ryumi?”

“If she’s inside… I will save her. No matter the cost.”

Shinzo leaned closer to the door, examining the keyhole. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key—the one he had collected along with the Eclipsium.

“I… I have the key.”

He handed it to Hiroshi.

“Toko,” Hiroshi said firmly, “listen carefully. Shinzo and I are going inside. There’s a friend of mine trapped in there.”

“You mean… Ryumi?” Toko asked.

“Possibly.”

“Possibly?” Toko snapped. “The hell do you mean possibly?! You can’t risk your life on a guess! We don’t know what traps Bajuro left behind. We don’t know what’s waiting in there!”

“I’ll go too,” Krooke said.

Toko turned to him. “You sure?”

“I’m damn sure,” Krooke replied. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

[Ten Minutes Later]

Shinzo crossed his arms impatiently. “Where the hell is he?! It’s been ten minutes! He said ‘just a minute’!”

Suddenly, Krooke dropped down from above, landing right in front of him.

Shinzo jumped back. “WHAT THE—?!”

Krooke was now dressed differently: a white shirt, black jeans secured with a belt, and two katanas sheathed at his sides.

“Listen to me, blue-eyes,” Krooke said calmly. “Never question a Torojima.”

“What if I do question you?” Shinzo shot back. “And why the hell do you have katanas? This isn’t some clown show.”

Krooke half-drew one blade.

“Just in case we meet something deadly,” he said, “or someone wants to question me. Or call me a clown.”

Shinzo swallowed. “I won’t question you. Not because I’m scared. Because I don’t want to.”

“We go now,” Krooke said.

“Be safe,” Toko told them.

Hiroshi inserted the key into the door and placed his hand against it. The surface glowed bright white, then slowly faded into a deep crimson.

The door turned into a portal. Warbling with deep crimson colour and red spirals.

“We’ll be back soon.” Hiroshi said with a smirk and a thumbs up.

He jumped in.

“Toko,” Shinzo called out, “if I die in there, please tell some hot girls I died heroically.”

Krooke kicked him straight through the gate and jumped in after him.

As Shinzo crossed the crimson threshold, his backpack tore at the shoulder straps and fell outside, while he himself passed fully inside.

[Inside the Hell Prison]

Darkness swallowed them whole. Only the faint red glow of the gate illuminated their surroundings.

“Did you seriously have to kick me?!” Shinzo shouted. “My backpack straps tore!”

“I’ll kick you again,” Krooke replied flatly.

Groaning, Shinzo turned back toward the gate—only to freeze.

He couldn’t pass through.

“It’s one-way, smartass,” Krooke said.

“I’ll punch you in the face!” Shinzo yelled.

Krooke drew a katana. “Oh yeah? I dare you.”

Suddenly, the darkness retreated.

Torches flared to life, revealing a massive maze stretching endlessly ahead, built entirely of black stone.

“Guys,” Hiroshi said, “stop arguing and look.”

“A maze?” Shinzo groaned. “C’mon…”

“Our first obstacle,” Krooke said calmly. “I know how to cross it. Follow me.”

He rushed in without hesitation.

“What—?!” Shinzo exclaimed.

Hiroshi shrugged. “He seems experienced.”

He followed.

“Aww, c’mon!” Shinzo yelled, sprinting after them.

[Far Inside]

Yataro—Tyrant Number Five, folded his arms, his gaze sweeping across the empty expanse before them. His voice carried a trace of doubt, though it was carefully restrained.

“So… do you really think that brat will come here?”

A presence stirred behind him.

From the shadows stepped Jinah—Tyrant Number Six—a white snake coiled around her arm, her silhouette peeling away from the darkness as if it had been part of her. Her eyes glinted faintly green as she spoke, calm and unhurried.

‘Yes. I am certain of it.’

She paused, letting the silence stretch, thick and deliberate.

“Be patient. We’ll win. Master won’t be disappointed.”

To Be Continued...