Birth of a God

The world no longer had rulers.

It had a single sovereign.

A king whose reign was not won through war—but through the undeniable force of his existence.

Shree Yan did not conquer.

He did not demand.

Yet the world bent to his will.

And now, as he ascended his throne, the very fabric of reality trembled.

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The Throne of the Immortal King

The blackened palace stood at the center of existence itself.

No walls contained it. No gates barred entry.

Because there was no need.

No army could invade. No force could oppose it.

For the throne itself was an extension of Shree Yan's will.

As he took his seat, a silence fell over the heavens.

The stars dimmed. The winds ceased. The elements bowed.

And from across the world, those attuned to power felt it—a shift in reality.

Shree Yan was no longer just a ruler.

He was something beyond kings and emperors.

Something greater than even the gods.

A being whose existence itself dictated the fate of all things.

The Unforgiven and the Betrayed

Beyond the walls of his city, far away from his throne, those who had wronged him still lived.

Kiran Gopal.

Suman.

Devendra.

King Rajendra Gautam.

The betrayers. The deceivers. The ones who had once stood above him.

They had fled to the farthest corners of the world.

They had hidden in the deepest shadows, seeking refuge in forgotten realms.

But Shree Yan had not forgotten them.

"They still breathe."

His voice, though soft, carried across the lands, heard by all who still defied him.

And in that moment, they knew.

There was no escape.

Not from him.

Not from the Immortal King.

For his will was absolute.

And his reign had only just begun.

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