Ch 6: No Pain Anymore

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

Then—

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐌!

The shockwave tore through the void, sending colossal waves crashing in every direction. The very air shuddered, the surface beneath them cracked under the sheer force of impact.

His alter ego soared through the air like a meteor, his body twisting unnaturally before—

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐌!

The impact detonated the water beneath him, sending it roaring skyward, forming a towering tsunami that loomed like an executioner's blade.

For a moment—nothing.

Then—

𝙃𝙖... 𝙝𝙖... 𝙝𝙖...

𝙃𝘼𝙃𝘼𝙃𝘼𝙃𝘼𝙃𝘼𝙃𝘈𝙃𝘈!

A 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 mist curled away, revealing a figure rising from the wreckage.

His golden eyes burned with something primal, unchained, monstrous. His smile—stretched too wide, too unnatural, too wrong.

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏!

A single spark ignited at his fingertips.

Then—

𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐇!

Fire 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃 from his arms like an unholy inferno. It didn't burn him—it worshiped him, danced with him, curled around him like a devoted beast craving destruction.

And then he moved.

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜.

His fingers twisted, the flames morphing, shifting, whispering.

𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬.

His gaze snapped to Kali.

And then—he spoke.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘒𝘢𝘭𝘪... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸..."

𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧, 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠.

"𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸."

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐌!

The ground beneath him 𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 as he launched forward, flames 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 in his wake.

Kali didn't flinch.

𝐍𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐍𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭.

Just 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐮𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬.

𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲—𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭.

And the water—

𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃.

𝐈𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐥.

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥.

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊!

They collided.

A single punch.

But that punch 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝.

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝.

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧—

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓.

Nothingness. Silence. A void that stretched into eternity.

Then—

"GASP!!!"

Kali's eyes snapped open.

His body jerked upright like a puppet yanked by an unseen force. His lungs screamed for air as if he had been drowning. His entire body trembled—not from fear, but from something else. Something… unnatural.

The room was deathly silent, but a single sound cut through the stillness—

A gasp.

Not from him.

From her.

The nurse beside him had frozen in place, her eyes wide with absolute horror.

Her trembling hands clenched the edge of her uniform, her breath hitched in her throat. She stared at him like she had just witnessed something impossible.

Because she had.

For days, Kali had been unable to move, trapped in his broken body. But now—he had snapped upright, effortlessly. No struggle. No pain. Nothing.

Just… silence.

Kali's own mind struggled to keep up. His fingers twitched. His breathing slowed. His gaze drifted to his hands, turning them over as if they weren't even his own. His heart pounded in his ears, but beneath the fear, beneath the confusion—

Something felt… off.

"What… is happening to me?"

His mind raced back to the dream. The fight. His alter ego. The fire. The water. The collision. It had felt so real. He had felt the water bend to his will, moving as if it were part of him.

"No…" His breath hitched. "It was real. It had to be."

Then—

Zzzzzzzt!

An invisible blade of pure agony slashed through his skull.

"AAGHHH!"

His hands shot to his head as his vision fractured. A searing shock ran through his body, burning like lightning trapped beneath his skin. His bones vibrated. His veins sizzled. His entire body locked up.

The nurse stumbled back, eyes filled with terror.

Kali's head snapped forward. His breath hitched.

"WHAT… IS… HAPPENING TO ME?!"

The room warped. His vision darkened.

And then-

EVERYTHING WENT BLACK.

Darkness.

A suffocating, weightless void.

Then—

A faint voice, distant, like an echo from another world.

"Kali… can you hear me?"

A flash of white. A sudden, sharp sting in his eyes. Blurred figures hovered over him, their voices muffled, distorted. His body felt heavy—but not in pain. No, it was something else.

His vision swam. Slowly, the blur sharpened.

A doctor stood before him, shining a small light back and forth in his pupils. His expression was neutral—too neutral. His hands moved with practiced precision, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed him.

They weren't calm.

They were calculating.

Like he was witnessing something that shouldn't be possible.

Kali groaned weakly, his throat dry like sandpaper. The dizziness clung to him like a fog. He wanted to ask what happened, but his voice barely escaped in a whisper.

The doctor adjusted his IV, his fingers lingering over the controls for a second too long.

"Your recovery is…" he hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Unbelievable."

Kali didn't respond. He was still piecing things together. His body felt… light. Almost too light. Like something inside him was missing.

Then, he saw her.

His mother.

She stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped tightly together, whispering prayers under her breath. Her eyes—soft, hopeful, yet afraid. Like she was teetering on the edge of relief and despair.

She had been waiting.

Waiting for him to wake up.

Waiting for a miracle.

Kali's chest tightened. He clenched his fingers against the sheets.

"Beta…" her voice was fragile, barely above a whisper. "Do you feel any pain?"

He blinked. Thought about it.

And slowly, he moved his head side to side.

No.

His mother let out a soft sob, covering her mouth with trembling fingers. Her body shook—not with joy, but with something else.

Something wrong.

Even the nurse, standing stiffly beside the IV stand, shifted uncomfortably.

The doctor exhaled, shutting his clipboard. "This is impossible." His voice was flat, unreadable. "With the extent of your injuries, you shouldn't be able to move at all."

Kali barely heard him.

Because something was wrong.

His stomach churned. A sickening wave of nausea crashed over him, rising fast—too fast.

His body jerked forward. His hands twitched.

The nurse noticed immediately. "Sir?"

Kali's breathing hitched. He clutched his stomach, shaking his head desperately.

Something was coming up.

The nurse quickly grabbed a tray and thrust it toward him. His hands trembled as he took it.

Then—

He vomited.

A sharp, violent retch.

The contents splattered against the metal tray.

And then—

The room froze.

No one spoke. No one moved.

The nurse's hands trembled.

His mother's lips parted. Her pupils shrank in absolute horror.

Kali, panting, looked down at the tray.

His breath caught in his throat.

It wasn't bile.

It wasn't food.

It was blood.

Dark. Thick. Wrong.

It slithered across the tray like ink, unnaturally smooth, shimmering under the dim hospital light.

His mother was looking at him.

Her expression had changed.

Her wide, hopeful eyes were now filled with something else—something far, far worse.

Fear.