Chapter 4 - "The First Step Of The Battle"

Bhanumithra took Vyom for a tour of the hidden lab, his tone unwavering but commanding. "You will reside here now, Vyom. Much needs to be taught to you, and that starts today."

As they walked deeper into the facility, Vyom's eyes darted across the walls lined with advanced tech—holographic screens and maps humming faintly, metal panels reflecting soft neon blue lights, and chambers that pulsed with energy he couldn't comprehend. His thoughts were more settled than ever before, but the memories of the last couple of days still haunted him. He was only a child after all. Holding Bhanumithra's hand very tightly, he felt safe with him. The subtle hum of machinery was the only sound, blending with their soft footsteps.

Bhanumithra broke his silence at last, his voice steady but with an undeniable weight. "Vyom, the road ahead of you is more cruel than anything you would ever dream up—even in your darkest nightmares. Are you certain this is what you desire?"

"Yes, Dada, I am," Vyom replied with eyes full of determination while tightening his grip of Bhanumithra's arms.

Bhanumithra sighed, "Your wish, kiddo. But you need to know—this is occurring sooner than we had planned. Your father, he was more than a scientist. He was one of the key figures in VARTHA, an organization that has made and is still working to make our country the greatest nation on the planet. But hidden within VARTHA is a secret faction, one that deals with knowledge forbidden to the world. A faction so secretive, even VARTHA itself remains unaware of its existence. Even I am only aware of fragments."

Vyom's brows furrowed, his heart racing. "What do you mean, Godfather?"

Bhanumithra's eyes drifted away. "The children's story Varun used to read to you, the one about the great war between gods and demons. It was not a tale, Vyom. It was true. That war created our world. The artifacts, the gods—they existed. And their remnants... they still exist."

Vyom lost his balance, his tiny hand shaking. "But, myths, the world claims they were all fabricated. The leaders, the scholars, they claimed—"

"Lies, Vyom. Crafted by the leaders of every nation. We are nearing the end of the 25th century, and nearly five centuries ago, the world's governments agreed to bury the truth. They debunked every single myth due to PRISM artifacts. They are still trying to find out about the source/origin of the artifacts. Once they reach it they can reign the entire world with a snap and your father... he uncovered knowledge even those world leaders were unaware of and were in need of. In this era of cybernetic enhancements, robots, AI and elective monarchy no one were even able to realize it and they didn't care much about it as they believed mythologies are lies but your father uncovered the truth and did a huge breakthrough in it and that was the source of the PRISM artifacts which is an ancient mythological war based on the oldest religion of humanity. The PRISM artifacts are normal objects affected by the artifacts fallen on realms due to the aftermath of war and they just give temporary powers unlike the original ancient artifacts and your father found out the name of the war and deducted the possible locations of the ancient artifacts and pinpointed them on this holographic map. The name of the war was- "

Vyom's voice interrupted the indulged Bhanumithra. "Dada!" His voice was tense but steady. "This is... this is too much... I... I can't... digest it."

Bhanumithra halted, aware of his error. He knelt, placing a firm but light hand on Vyom's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vyom. Sometimes my scientist's mind gets the better of me. You are still a child. And you've already suffered so much." His voice gentled. "Take tonight to sleep. Or take a tour of the lab if you prefer. Tomorrow. your training starts."

Vyom nodded slowly, his mind reeling but his face calm. "Okay. Dada."

The lab was a maze of wonders. Vyom wandered cautiously, his small footsteps echoing lightly in the sterile corridors. He peeked into chambers filled with technology that seemed out of a dream. One room had a gravity field manipulator—metallic spheres floated mid-air, defying the rules of physics he thought he knew. Another held holographic combat models—figures of warriors clashing in silent, fluid movements. A different chamber housed meditation pods—sleek, capsule-like constructs designed to heighten sensory perception and mental clarity. There was a room with shelves stacked with ancient scrolls alongside futuristic data cubes—fragments of forgotten knowledge preserved across eras.

Everything felt beyond his understanding, yet it whispered promises of what he could one day become. The lab itself was more than a place; it was a bridge between ancient truths and future potential. He felt the weight of that realization settling over him.

Morning arrived.

Bhanumithra stood in the central chamber, standing tall before Vyom, his face gleaming with sternness and warmth. Soft lights from the lab danced on his face, his eyes shining with wisdom and worry. "Vyom, until you are fourteen, your training will not be like the warriors. Your body is developing. We will establish your foundation—mentally."

Vyom heard him out, his curiosity as a child mixed with a sense of responsibility.

"First, meditation. To gain resilience, enhance your senses, and open what we refer to as the Mind's Eye. This is necessary for becoming adept at Daiva Kala—the Divine Technique. But that is far from now. You have to strengthen your mind for the time being."

Vyom's eyes sparkled at hearing about something so magnificent and enigmatic. He had no complete comprehension yet, but he felt its importance.

"Second," Bhanumithra permitted a little smile to creep into his stern expression, "you will read mangas and watch anime."

Vyom blinked in shock. "Huh?"

He had been anticipating endless drills, rigorous exercises. but this? On a whim of curiosity and bewilderment Vyom ventured "Can stories really sharpen the mind?"

"Do you think I'm kidding?" responded Bhanumithra with a dead serious tone.

"Nope. no... you are dead serious about Anime and Manga."

"Stories teach us more than you realize. They will get you ready for things you can't anticipate. They will instruct you to think quickly, improvise, and get inside the head of your opponent. You will learn what it is to fight—not with fists, but with will and tactics. You must learn the combat instincts it from it and apply it to your next move. All great warriors learn to observe battles before they engage in them. Your mind needs to get used to patterns, strategy, and surprise before your body does."

"All great warriors learn to observe battles before they engage in them. Your mind needs to get used to patterns, strategy, and surprise before your body does."

Vyom smiled. That sounded like fun—like a reward, although he knew there was more to it.

"Finally. shadow fighting—in your head. You will imagine fights. Imagine every movement. See every strike, every block. Your mind will be your first battlefield. When your body is ready, it will already know what to do."

Vyom nodded, his face set with determination. This was his way now.

Bhanumithra put a hand on his head. "This is the beginning of a long journey. Your father had faith in you. I have faith in you. Now. let us start."

The path had been set forth—not with swords or steel, but with the honing of a mind that would forge its own path through history.

The training began.

He failed. Horribly.

His mind couldn't grasp meditation, his thoughts restless and chaotic. He couldn't focus long enough to even call it meditation.

Shadow fighting? He couldn't even visualize a single opponent properly.

The stories and anime? He watched and read, but nothing seemed to make sense strategically. He couldn't strategise or visualise from something which is entertaining.

The tragic night has destroyed his mental stability and his 21 days of isolation only helped him to remain barely sane.

Every day ended with frustration. Every attempt ended with failure. His small fists clenched under the weight of his own inadequacy.

Bhanumithra observed silently, his gaze unreadable. He never scolded, never criticized, only instructing Vyom to try again.

And so he did. Again. And again. And again.

Until something changed.

Until failure became familiarity. Until his frustration turned into grit.

He was happy with his improvement and the time he spent with Bhanumithra.

Little did the master-student know about the cruel fate that awaited for them.