RAVI_RAWAT

In a land where divine power is broken and scattered across blood-stained battlefields, strength no longer comes from prayer—but from violence. The ancient god Paramkāl was torn apart by kings long ago, and now each of His Ten Limbs grants inhuman martial power to those who dare wield them.

Ravi Rawat, a quiet outcast raised among monks who swore never to fight again, is thrust into this brutal world when he awakens a forgotten martial art: the Void Palm—a lost, eleventh Devaang said to be the god's unseen heart.

Hunted by warlords, courted by killer queens, and stalked by mad prophets who can see his future, Ravi must walk a path soaked in ash and shadow.

Because if he doesn’t master the Void Palm, he won’t just be killed—

He’ll be used to rebuild the god who destroyed the world.

Ashtrakaal: The Ten Limbs of God

The ancient bell of Dhoom Pashar rang just once — a dull, thunderous tone that sent vibrations through the mountain stone.

Ravi stood before the Circle of Ashes — the high council of monks, sorcerers, and warriors who had once sealed the Ten Limbs in sacred pacts. Meera and Kiran stood at his side, silent but firm.

Twelve cloaked elders sat in a ring of fire, their faces hidden behind veils of soot-stained cloth.

Only one — Elder Trikal — spoke.

"You entered the Inner Void," he said, voice like cracked stone. "And something came back with you."

Ravi's fingers twitched. "I came back with control."

"Control," Trikal echoed. "Or agreement?"

Another elder spoke: "You possess a limb we buried in myth. The Tenth. Nishvastra. The Limb of Ending."

Meera's face tightened. "He's not the enemy."

But Kiran's hand hovered near his blade. Even he could feel it — the shift in Ravi's aura. Where once there was emptiness, now there was something else. Presence. Like an eye that never blinked.

"Do you know why we sealed the Tenth, Ravi Rawat?"

"It was not because it was evil. It was because it was too perfect. The other limbs gave power. The Tenth gave... resolution. It turned war to silence. Time to stillness. Souls to sleep."

"It ended things," Ravi whispered.

They brought Devra into the chamber, bound in mantras that burned his flesh. He laughed through broken teeth.

"You fools still think you're the shepherds of balance. But the world is already cracking. The soil remembers the first hunger."

He turned his gaze to Ravi. "You've tasted it now, haven't you? The Void... doesn't feed. It replaces."

Ravi stepped forward. "Tell me what woke it."

Devra's eyes gleamed. "It never slept. It only waited... for you."

He reached forward — mantras flaring in agony — and touched the ground.

A surge of black fire erupted. Shadows poured in from the crevices. One of the council members screamed as his soul was torn from his body, dissolving mid-air.

Devra laughed. "The Tenth Limb is the lock — and the key."

Void flared in his chest.

He raised his hand. "Shunyam Hasta."

The black fire collapsed into itself. The shadows fled. Devra's body fell limp, no longer laughing.

Later that night, Ravi stood on the cliffside, the winds roaring through the peaks.

Meera joined him. "They're scared of you now."

"But I'm not," she said. "I've seen you choose mercy when strength came easy. That's not what monsters do."

Ravi looked at the horizon. Something stirred in the distance — a black storm growing over the eastern mountains.

"What if that storm knows my name?"

Meera touched his hand. "Then let it remember we walk toward it. Not away."

Behind them, Kiran sharpened his blades. "Storms don't scare me. But next time, warn me before you collapse space into silence."

But deep within, something still watched.Something that wasn't ready to be silent yet.

Chapter 9: The Fire That Watches