Dust of Divinity

In the ancient world of Vaikarthan, power is not a matter of strength alone—it is the shaping of essence, the alignment of body, soul, and energy with the rhythm of the cosmos.



And yet, some do not walk toward divinity.

Some are born from its shadow.



Rudra is a boy without ambition. He desires no throne, no glory, no empire. His dream is peace—a quiet life, a warm family, a soft death before the one he loves.



But within him lies a potential so profound, the stars would bow if it ever awakened.



Where others climb toward power, Rudra floats—weightless, uncertain, unwilling to chase what he cannot believe in. Until the moment everything breaks. Until the silence of a forest is shattered. Until blood stains memory, and innocence is torn from his hands.



And then... something opens.



From that moment onward, Rudra no longer walks within the world. He begins to reshape it.



His power does not follow a single path—it bends between forces: the pulse of creation, the rage of destruction, the paradox of becoming both at once.



He is the breath that builds.

He is the step that erases.

He is the flame that grieves, and the storm that dances.



And should he ever truly choose to rise—



even the divine will fracture beneath his will.