Last lord of the 3rd eye

[The Exam Arc]

The first day of exams was a disaster. The math paper loomed over Rivaan and Jilpa like an executioner's blade. Jilpa stared at the questions, his pen hovering uselessly above the answer sheet.

Jilpa (thinking): "Why do these numbers look like hieroglyphs?"

Rivaan, seated a few desks away, wasn't faring any better. He scratched his head furiously, smudging the ink on his already illegible equations.

Rivaan (thinking): "Who even needs to know the area of a parabola in real life?"

The bell rang, signaling the end of the exam. Both boys trudged out of the classroom, heads low.

Jilpa: "Bro, I think I invented new math back there. They're gonna have to call experts to decipher my answers."

Rivaan: "If they do, let me know. I'll come to watch the circus."

[The Misadventures Continue]

Day two was language. Jilpa breezed through the creative writing section by spinning a ridiculous story about aliens invading through a vending machine.

Jilpa (thinking): "If they don't give me points for grammar, they'll at least give me points for imagination."

Rivaan, on the other hand, tried to write a formal essay but ended up overthinking every sentence. By the time the bell rang, his paper was half-filled, and his brain felt like mush.

Day three brought science, and Rivaan almost cried when he saw the diagrams they were supposed to label.

Rivaan: "I'm not a doctor! Why do I need to know what mitochondria look like?"

Jilpa: "Bro, just write 'powerhouse of the cell' everywhere. It's a universal truth."

Their whispered banter earned them a glare from the teacher, but it was the only thing keeping them sane.

[The Final Day]

The last exam was history, a subject neither of them had ever paid much attention to. By then, their spirits were broken, and they were running on pure chaos energy.

Jilpa: "Rivaan, what was the Treaty of Versailles about?"

Rivaan: "No clue. Just write something about world peace and hope for the best."

Jilpa's answer read like a summary of a superhero movie, complete with alliances, betrayals, and a climactic battle.

[After the Exams]

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of the exam week, Rivaan and Jilpa stumbled out of the school building, exhausted but alive.

Jilpa: "Well, that was a train wreck."

Rivaan: "More like a train wreck that fell into a canyon and exploded."

They both burst into laughter, the stress of the week melting away in their shared misery.

Jilpa: "Hey, at least we survived. Barely."

Rivaan: "Yeah, and if nothing else, we gave the teachers something to laugh about when they grade our papers."

They high-fived, their failure feeling like a badge of honor rather than a mark of defeat.

[Celebration]

That evening, they met up at the park, a box of cheap snacks and sodas between them.

Jilpa: "To us, the champions of failure!"

Rivaan: "May our grades be terrible, but our spirits unbroken."

They clinked their soda cans together, laughing under the fading light of the sunset.

Jilpa: "No matter what happens, bro, we've got this."

Rivaan: "Yeah. Together, we're unstoppable. Except when it comes to exams."

[A Day of Joy]

Jilpa and Rivaan decided to spend the weekend blowing off steam after the torment of exam week. They met up at a nearby arcade, their faces lighting up with childlike excitement.

Jilpa: "Alright, Rivaan. Let's see if you can beat me at Dance Battler."

Rivaan: "Dance? Me? Nah, you're going down at BattleBots. Let's see who's the real champion."

The arcade was filled with flashing lights and the echo of laughter as the two friends hopped from game to game, their competitive banter as lively as ever. Rivaan managed to edge out Jilpa in racing games, while Jilpa dominated the fighting games.

[A Meal to Remember]

After a few hours, they made their way to a nearby restaurant, stomachs growling. The warm, savory aroma of dumplings and sizzling meat filled the air as they sat down to feast.

Jilpa: "I'm telling you, Rivaan, if I could marry food, this would be the one."

Rivaan: "Same. But you'd get rejected, bro. Food deserves better than you."

Their laughter drew a few amused glances from nearby diners. For a moment, the world felt simple and safe.

[The News Breaks]

As they were finishing their meal, the restaurant's TV switched to a breaking news segment. The cheerful atmosphere turned somber as the anchor announced:

News Anchor: "A devastating house fire has broken out in the residential district of Shilin Street. Firefighters are on the scene, but the flames have already claimed significant damage. Residents are urged to avoid the area for safety reasons."

Jilpa froze. Shilin Street. That was his street. His heart dropped, and he turned to Rivaan, his face pale.

Jilpa: "Rivaan... that's my house."

Rivaan didn't hesitate. He threw some money on the table, grabbed Jilpa's arm, and ran out of the restaurant.

[The Rush Home]

The two sprinted through the city streets, weaving between people and traffic, their lungs burning but their legs refusing to stop. The acrid smell of smoke grew stronger as they got closer, the orange glow of the fire visible against the evening sky.

Jilpa's mind raced, memories of his mom flashing before his eyes. Her smile, her laugh, the warmth of her hugs.

Jilpa (thinking): Please, let her be okay. Please, let this be a mistake.

[Too Late]

By the time they reached the street, it was chaos. Fire trucks surrounded the area, their sirens blaring. Neighbors stood at a distance, their faces illuminated by the inferno consuming Jilpa's home.

Jilpa tried to push past the firefighters, but Rivaan held him back.

Rivaan: "Jilpa, wait! They're still working. You can't—"

Jilpa broke free, ignoring the shouts around him, and stumbled toward what was left of his home. The heat was unbearable, the air thick with smoke.

[The Aftermath]

The flames had died down by the time Jilpa was allowed through. He stepped into the smoldering ruins, his legs trembling. Amid the ash and debris, he saw her—his mother's lifeless body, burned beyond recognition.

He collapsed to his knees, pulling her charred remains into his arms, his tears carving streaks through the soot on his face.

Jilpa: "No... no, no, no, please! Mom, wake up! Please!"

His cries echoed through the night, raw and guttural, a sound of pure anguish. Rivaan stood nearby, fists clenched, his own eyes filled with tears. He wanted to comfort his friend, but there were no words that could ease this pain.

[A World Shattered]

As the night wore on, Jilpa sat among the ruins, clutching what was left of the woman who had raised him. The fire had taken everything—his home, his family, his sense of safety.

Jilpa (thinking): I couldn't protect her. I couldn't do anything.

But somewhere deep within him, a spark of determination ignited. The same power that had cursed his life would now become his weapon.

Jilpa (thinking): Whoever did this will pay. I swear it.

As the first light of dawn broke through the smoke-filled sky, Jilpa's tears dried, replaced by a burning vengeful heart . The boy who had once laughed in the arcade was gone. In his place stood someone else—someone ready to kill.

[The Cloth of Truth]

As Jilpa sat cradling his mother's lifeless body, something caught his eye amidst the charred remnants of her clothing. A piece of cloth, oddly pristine compared to the surrounding devastation, was clutched in her hand. He gently pried it free, his fingers trembling.

It was a fragment of fabric with an emblem emblazoned on it—a distinctive symbol he couldn't immediately place. A black eagle perched atop a double-headed bear, encircled by Cyrillic lettering. Jilpa's blood ran cold as he realized what it meant.

Jilpa (thinking): The Russian mob.

He stared at the cloth, his mind reeling. Why? Why would the Russian mob target his family? His mother? They weren't involved in anything criminal—or so he thought.

[The Results Come In]

The next morning, Jilpa and Rivaan waited anxiously at the local precinct, where an autopsy on his mother's body was being conducted. The sterile smell of the station mixed with the suffocating weight of grief as Jilpa sat motionless, gripping the cloth he had found.

A detective approached, his face grim, holding a file in his hand.

Detective: "Jilpa... I need you to prepare yourself for this."

Jilpa nodded silently, his heart pounding as the detective handed him the report.

The words burned into his mind as he read them.

"Cause of death: Extensive trauma due to smoke inhalation and physical injuries. Secondary findings: evidence of... rape by 20 men."

Jilpa's hands began to shake, the paper slipping from his grasp. His vision blurred, his breathing quickened, and the room felt like it was closing in.

Jilpa (thinking): No... this can't be real. This can't be happening why the fuck is this happening to me those fuckers i will not spare a ingle one of them!.

[Rage Takes Root]

Rivaan put a hand on Jilpa's shoulder, grounding him just enough to stop him from spiraling further.

Rivaan: "We'll figure this out. I promise, we'll find out who did this and why."

But Jilpa didn't respond. His grief was now mingled with something else—pure, unbridled rage. His fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as the memory of his mother's burnt, broken body flashed before his eyes.

Jilpa (thinking): They'll pay. Every last one of them will pay ill make sure they cant talk, eat, pee, shit, walk, smell or see all of them will suffer .

He stared at the cloth in his hand, the emblem now seared into his memory. He didn't know why the Russian mob had targeted his family, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he wouldn't stop until he made them suffer.

[A Vow of Vengeance]

As they left the station, Jilpa's silence was deafening. Rivaan tried to talk to him, to offer comfort, but Jilpa's mind was already elsewhere—planning, calculating.

Jilpa (thinking): They took everything from me. My home, my family, my peace. I'll take everything from them in return.

The power within him, the chains that had once been a curse, now felt like the only tool he had to right this wrong. The Russian mob had made a mistake. They had awakened a force they couldn't possibly comprehend.

And Jilpa would make sure they lived long enough to regret it.

THANK YOU FOR READING

TO BE CONTINUED