In Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya, voices echoed throughout the Central Arena as more and more students continued to arrive.
Excitement.
Curiosity.
Anticipation.
The atmosphere gradually grew livelier with every passing moment.
Students poured into the arena from every direction.
Some emerged from transit gates that connected distant regions of the university.
Some descended from flying ships.
Some rode giant beasts across designated pathways.
Others simply flew through the sky under their own power.
From above, the countless streams of people resembled rivers converging toward a single destination.
Some arrived aboard sleek aerial vehicles that descended from the clouds before docking at designated platforms.
Blue streams of light continuously flashed throughout the arena as transportation systems operated without pause.
Above everything else, colossal holographic screens illuminated the heavens.
Announcements.
Schedules.
Rankings.
Information flowed endlessly across the displays.
From a distance, the countless students resembled an ocean stretching beyond the horizon.
Millions had already gathered.
Yet the arena still appeared far from full.
The sheer scale of the Central Arena made the crowd seem insignificant.
Groups of friends occupied entire sectors.
Teams gathered around tactical displays.
New students stared around in disbelief.
Some had heard stories about the Central Arena.
Experiencing it in personally was an entirely different matter.
At the center stood a massive platform.
Its size rivaled entire cities.
Layers of advanced technology were hidden beneath its metallic surface.
Energy barriers.
Teleportation arrays.
Emergency containment systems.
Everything had been prepared for today’s event.
The noise gradually increased as more students arrived.
Then suddenly—
A deep chime echoed across the arena.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The holographic screens immediately changed.
Every conversation halted.
Millions of eyes turned upward.
A glowing symbol appeared.
Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya.
The emblem rotated slowly above the arena.
Moments later, a calm artificial voice spread throughout the entire arena.
“Attention students.”
The voice reached every corner of the ten-thousand-square-kilometer arena with perfect clarity.
“Please remain within your designated sectors.
Event initialization will begin shortly.”
The crowd erupted into excited discussions.
“Finally!”
“It’s starting!”
“I heard this year’s rewards are insane.”
“No way.
That’s definitely a rumor.”
“I heard professors are participating too.”
“Seriously?”
The atmosphere became even more energetic.
Far above the arena, hundreds of floating security drones moved into formation.
Invisible scans swept across the crowd.
Every system remained active.
Every protocol remained operational.
Everything appeared normal.
At least on the surface.
Near the center of the arena, a young man sat comfortably beneath a shaded observation structure.
He lazily sipped a cold drink while watching the crowd.
Thousands of meters below, students continued arriving.
Beside him, a figure folded her arms.
“You look too relaxed.”
He shrugged.
“I am relaxed.”
She stared at him.
“You always look like that right before something ridiculous happens.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You absolutely do.”
He smiled.
Unfortunately, that only increased her suspicion.
Before she could continue questioning him, another announcement echoed throughout the arena.
“All students are advised to direct their attention toward the central platform.”
The lights dimmed.
The sky darkened.
Even the excited students instinctively stopped talking.
Something was happening.
The platform began glowing.
One after another.
Then all at once.
A pillar of light erupted into the sky.
Gasps spread throughout the crowd.
The beam pierced the clouds and disappeared beyond sight.
Millions of students instinctively looked upward.
Someone was walking toward the platform.
A lone figure.
*
*
*
Vikrant and Adhiraj sat apart from each other, their presence almost swallowed by the scale of the room.
The ceiling stretched too high to measure with a casual glance, and the distant lights above cast a cold glow that made the space feel even more endless.
It wasn’t just large—it felt intentionally designed to make people realize how small they are.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Vikrant suddenly roared—
“I WANT TO DESTROY THIS UNIVERSE.”
A few nearby students flinched.
Adhiraj didn’t even look at him properly.
He sighed.
“Forget that Ramesh.
He isn’t your friend.”
Vikrant ignored him completely.
He leaned toward a random student like a storm approaching.
“Hey.
You.
Answer.”
The student stiffened.
“W-what…?”
“Where is the university president?”
The student blinked, thinking carefully.
“I… I think he’s in the garden.”
Vikrant’s eyes lit up slightly.
“Huh, president?
Like a servant?”
He snapped his fingers.
“Look,” he turned dramatically to Adhiraj.
“Look at him Senior Brother—his business ideas.
I want to become his disciple.”
“Business…?” Adhiraj looked confused.
Vikrant continued, completely unstoppable.
“Corruption… Big Brother, corruption.”
The student glanced at Vikrant, visibly annoyed.
“Corruption?
He’s just enjoying the moment with his girlfriend.”
Dead silence.
The room froze.
Even the lights felt awkward.
Vikrant slowly turned his head.
“…Girlfriend?”
Then he looked at Adhiraj with deep seriousness.
“Senior Brother.
Look…
look at your son.”
Adhiraj immediately snapped back.
“He’s my cousin.”
Vikrant didn’t care.
He leaned forward like a courtroom prosecutor in a cosmic trial.
“COUSIN OR NOT—THIS IS STILL MENTAL CORRUPTION.”
He pointed at the air aggressively.
“Manners?
This is manners?”
Adhiraj muttered to himself, though loudly enough for Vikrant and the nearby students to hear.
“Shouldn’t you check your own manners first?”
Vikrant ignored him completely.
“We are here for an extremely important matter, and he is out there—writing his own romantic novel.”
He paused—
Then added, almost impressed.
“Actually… the garden is a good location.”
Adhiraj slowly covered his face with both hands.
“Why did I come with him… why am I alive right now…”
Without waiting for anyone else to breathe normally again, Adhiraj stood up and started walking toward the garden.
Not because he wanted to,
But because survival had demands.
*
*
*
A group of students walked through the crowds of Mahashunya Vishwavidyalaya.
“Are you all going to participate in the event at the Central Arena?” Ekalavyaa asked Vaidehi.
Indrajit stopped mid-way and turned back.
His expression was unusually serious, as though he knew something that others didn’t.
He slowly pronounced the words.
“Ekalavyaa, wouldn’t you come with us?”
Ekalavyaa flinched backward for a moment.
She pointed around and then matched his gaze directly.
“Do you even know how large this university is?”
“645,929 km²” Indrajit replied immediately.
Vaidehi noticed it.
She immediately went closer to and placed a hand on Ekalavyaa’s shoulder.
“I’m so tired.
I’ll come with you too, Ekalavyaa.
I’m so bored.
I want some rest.”
Then she slowly turned her head toward Indrajit.
“Hey, Master of Celestial Weapons!
If you come with us then it’ll be easy to escape this vast of land.”
Ekalavyaa joined in with a complaint.
“What I mean is, If we go to the Central Arena, I don’t even know how long it’ll take us to get there.
And the central arena perfectly alone contains 10,000 km² area.
That’s why I’m going home.
I need to help my mother.”
“पुनर्दर्शनाय” Vaidehi said with a smile.
Yashoda: “पुनर्मिलामः”
Indrajit: “शीघ्रं मिलामः”
Ekalavyaa looked at them for a brief moment before smiling.
“स्वस्य ध्यानं कुरुत, इदानीं च मया गन्तव्यम्।”
“भवद्भिः सर्वैः सह पुनः शीघ्रमेव मिलिष्यामीति आशासे।”
It sounded more like a promise than a farewell.
The moment she finished speaking, Yashoda burst out—
“तथा च भवान् उत्तमं विश्रामं करिष्यतीति आशासे।”
Vaidehi immediately wrapped a hand over Yashoda’s mouth.
“She’s just going home, not marching toward her funeral.”
“Mmph!
Mmph!” Yashoda struggled in protest.
“I was being polite!”
“You sounded like she was writing her last will.”
Ekalavyaa stared at them for a moment.
Then she laughed.
*
*
*
Shanti Lata entered Bhagavat’s room.
She moved silently and slowly, with a small smile on her face.
She stepped forward enough to check Bhagavat’s current condition.
Her eyes shifted toward a tray of Moong Dal Curry and plain rice on a table.
But it remained untouched, just as she had left it.
Meenakshi sat beside Bhagavat, quietly watching over him.
Her face was stained with tears, and her nose had turned red.
It felt as though her tears alone could fill an ocean.
Then Bhagavat’s mother appeared behind Shanti Lata.
She was greeted by the same scene that Shanti Lata had witnessed.
She slowly asked Shanti Lata.
“Shanti, why hasn’t she touched her food yet?
Is something wrong with the food?
Bhagavat is unconscious, so he can’t eat, and we decided to let him eat after he wakes up.”
She shifted her gaze toward Meenakshi.
“But Meenakshi is conscious.
Then why hasn’t she eaten?”
Shanti Lata didn’t answer anything at first, then she gently asked.
“Didi, have you eaten lunch?”
“Not yet.”
“Then how can you expect her to eat?”
His mother realised why Meenakshi hadn’t eaten yet.
“And you?” she asked Shanti Lata.
“Same as you.” Shanti Lata replied sadly.
Without another word, his mother stepped closer to the bed.
She turned her head toward Meenakshi.
“Menaka, what are you doing?”
“I’m just trying to heal him…”
A silence spread through the room.
“I-I mean…
I’m a healer so…”
She lowered her voice because she knew her abilities weren’t enough to heal him.
His mother turned her gaze to Shanti Lata.
Shanti Lata immediately understood the gesture.
She stepped closer to them.
“Meenakshi…”
Meenakshi didn’t reply.
“At least eat a little.
You’ve been sitting here the entire time,” his mother said.
A brief silence followed—
“Meenakshi, if you don’t eat, then when Bhagavat wakes up, do you want him to see you like this?”
She wiped Meenakshi’s tears, then placed a hand beneath her chin and gently lifted her face.
“And we won’t take a crying and unhealthy girl as our Laxmi.”
“What am I doing right now?
Trying to manipulate an expert manipulator.
I hope my words reach her.”
She gently hugged Meenakshi from behind to comfort her.
His mother called to Shanti Lata.
“Shanti,”
“Yes, Didi.”
“You hold her like this, and I’ll feed her.
Let’s see how long she can keep refusing to eat.”
Not every silence is empty.
Some are filled with answers.