Chapter 14: The Temptation of Vritra

The void was **unnaturally still**, save for the faint **crackling of violet lightning** in the distance.

The **celestial chains** holding Vritra glimmered faintly with divine fire, but they were **unstable**, flickering softly with every beat of Aryan's heart.

And yet—the Ashura king was **calm**, his massive form coiled within the prison, his **crimson eyes glimmering with dark promise**.

His voice was **smooth and deliberate**, barely more than a whisper.

"**One drop, mortal…**"

He smiled faintly, his jagged teeth gleaming.

"**One drop of your divine spark—and you walk free.**"

Aryan stood **frozen in place**, his fists clenched so tightly that his **knuckles turned white**.

His **breathing was shallow**, labored.

His **legs trembled faintly** beneath him.

He was **exhausted**, barely holding himself upright.

And Vritra knew it.

The Ashura's voice was **low and poisonous**, his words a subtle caress.

"Think about it…"

He leaned forward slightly, his massive frame **pressing against the chains**, making them groan softly.

"**You walk away.** You live. You see the sun again."

His eyes narrowed faintly.

"You'll be **welcomed as a hero**. They will sing your name for eternity."

His voice lowered into a **dark whisper**, intimate and insidious.

"Isn't that what you want?"

---

### **The Weight of the Choice**

Aryan's chest **heaved with shallow breaths**.

The words **stung**, even though he knew they were **laced with deception**.

His **body ached**, his limbs trembling from the battle.

The **sigil on his wrist** was weak, flickering dimly—the last remnants of his divine spark barely keeping the prison sealed.

And he was **trapped here**.

No escape.

No way back.

For the briefest moment, **his fingers twitched**, his grip loosening faintly around the hilts of his blades.

The thought slithered into his mind like a serpent.

"**One drop…**"

Just enough to **open the doorway**.

Just enough to **leave this place**.

He could see **Shanaya's face** in his mind—the memory of her **brave smile** before he left.

Her voice.

Her **laughter**.

For a brief moment, he **wanted to live**.

To **go back**.

His hand **trembled faintly**.

And Vritra saw it.

The Ashura's smile **widened faintly**, his voice **silken and mocking**.

"**You're tired, aren't you?**"

His voice was **almost soothing**, filled with false sympathy.

"So… so tired…"

The void around them **shuddered softly**, the chains **groaning faintly**.

"Just a drop," Vritra whispered again, his voice almost a plea.

"**And it all ends.**"

Aryan's **hand shook slightly**, his fingers loosening around his blade.

His **chest tightened**, doubt creeping into his mind.

For the briefest moment, he **felt the temptation** pulling at him—whispering into the edges of his soul.

But then—

The faintest **golden flicker** passed across his wrist.

The **sigil**.

It was faint—almost imperceptible—but he felt it.

A **tug of warmth**.

A soft pulse of divinity, faint and fleeting.

And with it came a **flash of memory**.

---

### **The Memory of Sacrifice**

He saw **Yama's face** in his mind.

The **god of death**, stoic and solemn, when he placed the sigil on Aryan's wrist.

"**You'll want to run,**" Yama had warned him softly, his eyes cold and serious.

"**You'll be afraid.**"

The god's voice had been low, steady.

"**And when you are—remember this:**"

Yama's eyes had narrowed faintly.

"**He lies. Always.**"

The **weight of the warning** came crashing back into Aryan's chest like a hammer, driving the breath from his lungs.

His **fingers tightened sharply** around his blades.

The fog of **temptation shattered**.

His eyes **flared with divine fire**, golden light **surging faintly** from the sigil on his wrist.

He slowly **raised his head**, his gaze locking with **Vritra's piercing eyes**.

And then—he **smirked faintly**.

"**You almost had me,**" Aryan said softly.

His voice was **hoarse but steady**, brimming with defiance.

"Almost."

Vritra's eyes **narrowed sharply**, his smile vanishing in an instant.

---

### **The Ashura's Fury**

For the first time, **Vritra's mask of amusement cracked**.

The faint glimmer of **mocking cruelty** in his eyes hardened into **cold rage**.

The **chains groaned violently**, shuddering as the Ashura **surged against them**, his massive limbs straining.

His voice became a **low snarl**, filled with venom.

"**You fool.**"

The prison **shuddered violently**, the entire void **quaking** beneath the force of Vritra's wrath.

"**You dare defy me?**" he growled, his voice sharp with fury.

"**You think your gods will save you?**"

The **chains strained violently**, faint cracks **spider-webbing across the bindings** as Vritra's power surged.

Aryan took a single step forward, his eyes **blazing with golden fire**.

And then—he **smiled**.

"**I don't need saving.**"

Before Vritra could respond, Aryan **slammed his blades into the ground**, channeling **the last of his divine spark** into the sigil on his wrist.

The entire **void ignited with golden light**, the flames of divinity **coursing through the prison**.

The chains **blazed brighter**, the runes inscribed into them **glowing violently**.

Vritra's eyes **widened sharply**, his voice filled with sudden fury.

"**NO!**"

The light **flooded the void**, the prison **blazing with divine power**.

The celestial chains **locked tighter**, the cracks sealing shut.

Vritra's **roar of rage** shook the entire void, but the **bindings held firm**.

Aryan's **chest heaved violently**, his limbs shaking from the exertion.

The sigil on his wrist **flared brightly one last time**—then shattered into dust.

He **stumbled slightly**, his knees buckling.

And then—**he fell.**

---

### **The Divine Gate**

For a brief moment, **there was nothing**.

No sound.

No sight.

Just **stillness**.

And then—**a soft golden light** pierced the darkness.

A single, faint **divine portal** opened—a **gate of light**, summoned by the **last remnants of Aryan's divine spark**.

The **Devas' mark**.

The portal was **faint and fragile**, flickering softly.

But it was enough.

With the last of his strength, Aryan **pushed himself onto his knees**, his body trembling violently.

His limbs **screamed in agony**, but he **staggered toward the gate**, his vision blurred with exhaustion.

Vritra's **voice echoed faintly** behind him, seething with hatred.

"**You will regret this, mortal.**"

But Aryan didn't look back.

He **stumbled into the gate**, and the moment his body passed through it—**the void was gone**.

---

### **Return to Deva-Kshetra**

The next thing Aryan felt was **cool grass** beneath his fingers.

The sky was **blindingly bright**, the scent of **wildflowers filling his lungs**.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight.

The **Divine Realm**.

He had made it back.

He felt a faint, weak **chuckle escape his lips**, barely more than a rasp.

"**I made it…**"

And then—**his eyes closed**.

His body went still, his strength finally giving out.

The last thing he heard was a faint voice—a familiar, **soft and worried voice**.

"**Aryan!**"

Then—**darkness.