Shree Yan's steps echoed in the silent ruins of the temple, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and regrets. The air around him felt heavy, as though the very weight of his decisions pressed upon his shoulders. He had chosen to forgo immortality, to abandon the path that had consumed him for so long. But now, standing amidst the shattered stones, he realized that freedom was not the release he had imagined.
The power that had once thrummed within him, that had promised to grant him the world, was now absent. Instead, there was a hollow ache, an emptiness that gnawed at his soul. His red eyes, once blazing with purpose, now held only a distant sadness as he surveyed the destruction he had wrought.
He had killed his past in the pursuit of immortality, and now he was left with nothing but the bitter remnants of his choices.
He turned, his gaze falling on the altar at the center of the temple. The ritual had been interrupted, the energy that had once crackled with potential now dissipated, leaving only the cold, empty shell of the place. It felt like a graveyard—his own graveyard, a place where all the versions of himself that had once existed were buried.
But there was no peace here. No release. Only a profound sense of loss.
His thoughts drifted to Shidhara Gautami, the woman he had once known, the woman who had once loved him. She was the one he had cast aside, believing that immortality could fill the emptiness in his heart. But now, as the weight of his freedom settled upon him, he realized that no amount of power, no matter how boundless, could ever replace the connections he had abandoned.
Had he made the right choice?
His mind lingered on the voices that had filled his thoughts during the ritual—the voices of his betrayals, his friends, his enemies. Kiran. Suman. Narayan. His mother. They all haunted him, not with anger, but with sorrow. What had he truly gained by severing every tie to his humanity?
Nothing.
Shree Yan clenched his fists. He had wanted to be free, to escape the chains of mortality. But now, he realized, it was those very chains that had anchored him to something real. It was his humanity, the bonds he had shared with others, that had given him purpose. Without them, he was adrift, lost in a sea of his own making.
The weight of his choices was unbearable, and yet, there was no turning back. He had rejected immortality, but he had also rejected the path of redemption. The road before him was uncertain, shrouded in darkness, and filled with the consequences of his actions.