Mysoap5

When the gods erased his homeland from existence, Astha emerged as the sole survivor—scarred, flame-bound, and remembered only by the ash beneath his feet. Branded by divinity’s cruelty and haunted by a forgotten past, he now walks the ruins of a sacred world with a single purpose: to burn down the heavens that dared to rewrite fate.

Bound to him is Smritidhaara, a cursed chain-sickle forged from the memories of the erased—an extension of Astha’s rage and sorrow. But when he crosses paths with Luv, a thunderborn exile from the celestial realm, their fates intertwine in a war neither of them yet understand.

As buried truths awaken and mythic beasts rise from divine prisons, Astha and Luv must confront ancient gods, dead empires, and a reality that refuses to stay sealed. With every step, the fire grows. The thunder sharpens.

And the gods begin to remember what they tried so hard to forget.

This is not a story of heroes.
It is the beginning of a reckoning.

Ashes of Deva : Rise of the White Flame

Smoke lingered in the air, but it wasn't from fire—it was from memory.

The Record-Eater was gone. Erased not just physically, but conceptually. Even its name was fading. Yet its presence left a wound on the world… and on the trio.

Vaidehi leaned against a cracked pillar, clutching her side. Her blade—lotus-shaped and once radiant—was now dull. It had resisted the devouring glyphs, but just barely.

Luv sat on a broken step, blood trailing from his mouth, thunder buzzing weakly beneath his skin. The glyphs branded on his back from the Herald were glowing again.

"It's not over," he rasped. "That bastard did something to me... it's spreading."

Astha crouched nearby, his fingers glowing as he traced a mantra across Luv's spine.

"It tried to unwrite you. But Smritidhaara remembers who you are."

Smritidhaara coiled gently across Astha's forearm, its flame faint but restorative now, flickering like a guardian spirit.

Luv managed a smirk, golden eyes tired.

"First time you've ever said anything comforting."

"Don't get used to it," Astha muttered.

Elsewhere — In the Clouded Halls of Swarnalok

Above the shattered sky, beyond mortal comprehension, the gods convened.

Their forms shimmered in fractured divinity—some like thunderclouds, others like serpents made of gold. But at the head of the circular chamber sat a shadow wearing a thousand faces.

"He lives," one god murmured, dread in his tone.

"He awakened Ashvaanta," said another. "And the Record-Eater failed."

The shadowed leader raised its hand.

It reached forward and picked up a chain made of devoured timelines.

As the sun finally pierced through the top of the Temple of Nishkala, its light warped strangely, bending around a pillar of untouched black stone that now stood where the Record-Eater fell.

The name pulsed. Not erased—highlighted. Targeted.

"They're watching," Vaidehi whispered, appearing beside him.

"Let them," Astha said. "They started this."

He turned, his newly summoned Ashvaanta humming gently as it disappeared into smoke.

Thunder rumbled gently. Luv sat on a cliff edge, lightning coiling like silver snakes around his arms, looking out at the dark forest beyond.

Vaidehi approached, cloak fluttering.

"You're improving," she said, sitting beside him.

"You knew I was from Swarnalok," Luv muttered. "Did they send you for me, too?"

"They wanted you contained. Astha erased. Me… chained."

She looked up at the stars, a faint smile brushing her lips.

"Because I think you're the only storm Swarnalok is afraid of."

Meanwhile, Astha stood beneath the carved gate of the temple, Smritidhaara wrapped like a ribbon around his arm.

He could feel it now—Sharvaka was coming.

And something deeper was whispering… not words, but a hunger for history itself.

Chapter 11 – The Devourer’s Curse