The hospital had descended into madness.
Screams echoed through every corridor while doctors abandoned their equipment and patients stumbled blindly across bloodstained floors.
Hair covered the building like black vines after a supernatural storm, while nurses cried and clutched their scalps as some patients discovered that their eyebrows, eyelashes, beard hair, and even arm hair had been ripped painfully from their skin.
Everywhere Sadhna walked, human hair followed.
The floating mass surrounding her had grown enormous now, with thousands upon thousands of strands swarming around her body like living insects protecting their queen.
They twisted violently through the air, reacting to every shift in her emotions.
Inside the pediatric ward, children screamed as hair suddenly ripped from terrified parents nearby.
In another hallway, an old man collapsed crying while nurses desperately tried to stop blood from dripping down his scalp.
One doctor attempted to approach Sadhna with a syringe.
The moment he crossed within one meter of her, every strand of hair exploded from his body simultaneously—head, chest, arms, even eyelashes.
The force tore at his skin alongside the follicles, leaving him screaming on the floor while blood ran down his bald scalp.
Nobody dared approach after that.
The entire hospital feared her now, and Sadhna herself barely understood what was happening.
She walked slowly through the corridor in her hospital gown while tears rolled silently down her face.
The floating hair moved instinctively around her, sometimes forming shapes unconsciously based on her thoughts.
Memories kept crashing through her mind repeatedly.
Her father pretending not to support her influencer career.
Her father secretly creating fake accounts just to like her posts anyway.
She remembered discovering it accidentally once.
Same typing pattern.
Same terrible grammar.
Same old-man emojis.
One night, she had confronted him while laughing.
“Papa, this is literally you.”
Her father immediately denied everything.
“I don’t even know how Instagram works.”
“Then why does this account comment ‘very nice beta proud of you’ on every single reel?”
“It could be anyone.”
“Papa, the username is ‘HairFan_1968.'”
Her mother had laughed so hard she nearly dropped her tea.
Even now, that memory hurt.
The floating hair around Sadhna trembled violently again as another flash appeared in her mind.
Childhood mornings before school.
Her mother sitting behind her patiently, combing oil through her hair while Sadhna complained dramatically.
“Maa, slowly!”
“You scream like I’m murdering you.”
“It hurts!”
“Beauty requires sacrifice.”
Her mother used to braid her hair carefully every single morning, with gentle fingers and warm sunlight filling the room.
It had been a safe home.
Gone now.
The moment that memory surfaced, the hospital lights exploded.
Hair surged through the corridors violently like black floodwater.
Patients screamed again as windows shattered around them.
Vikram sprinted inside the hospital entrance while trying not to die.
“This keeps getting worse!”
Power ran beside him calmly despite the chaos.
“Her emotions continue amplifying the mana field.”
A swarm of hair strands suddenly launched toward Vikram’s face like sharpened needles.
“OH, COME ON—”
He ducked instantly.
The strands missed his head by inches before embedding themselves into the wall behind him.
Power pointed quickly.
“Stay beyond one meter!”
“What kind of stupidly specific weakness is that?!”
“Her direct control range.”
Another barrage attacked him immediately.
Vikram sprinted through the corridor while black strands chased him like angry snakes.
Some attempted to wrap around his arms and legs but lost strength the moment they touched his divine energy directly.
Still, it hurt.
One strand sliced across his cheek, while another wrapped briefly around his ankle before he kicked it away.
Patients hiding behind overturned beds stared at him like he was equally insane.
Technically, they weren’t wrong.
At the end of the corridor, Sadhna kept walking silently while her gigantic swarm floated around her protectively.
Vikram looked around desperately.
Then grabbed a metal chair nearby.
Power immediately understood his plan.
“Knock her unconscious.”
“That feels morally questionable.”
“She is currently terrorizing an entire hospital.”
“Fair enough.”
Vikram lifted the chair and hurled it toward Sadhna.
The reaction happened instantly.
Hair exploded upward before the chair could even reach her.
Thousands of strands intertwined together midair, forming a thick shield.
BOOM.
The chair smashed against the hair barrier and fell uselessly onto the floor.
Vikram blinked.
“…Seriously?”
The floating strands shifted strangely afterward.
Then formed a giant laughing emoji in the air.
Power stared silently.
Even she looked offended.
“Did her hair just mock me?!”
Apparently, yes.
Vikram grabbed the nearest object again: a decorative flowerpot from the hallway corner.
“This time I’m aiming harder.”
He threw it.
Again, the hair reacted instantly, but differently.
Instead of blocking, the strands formed a massive net midair and gently caught the flowerpot before setting it softly onto the ground.
Then another floating hair emoji appeared.
This one looked smug.
Vikram stared in disbelief.
“I’m being cyberbullied by hair.”
Power pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Focus.”
Sadhna continued walking slowly.
Then Vikram noticed where she was heading.
His expression changed instantly.
“Wait…”
Ahead of her was the delivery ward.
Newborn infants.
Dozens of mothers.
Vikram panicked immediately.
“Oh no, no, no, NO—”
He sprinted forward again desperately.
Hair attacked him from every direction now.
Black strands launched like spears, attempting to force him backward while Sadhna unconsciously continued walking toward the ward doors.
Vikram narrowly avoided another barrage as his brain raced desperately.
Think.
Think.
There has to be a pattern.
He observed carefully while dodging.
The hair always reacted faster the closer he got to her, became denser during emotional spikes, and seemed defensive first before becoming offensive.
And—
The strands maintained distance from the floor during movement.
Suddenly, something clicked.
“The floor…”
Power glanced toward him sharply.
Vikram’s eyes widened slightly.
Power immediately understood.
“Disrupt her balance.”
Vikram didn’t waste another second.
He rushed directly behind Sadhna despite the storm of hair attacking him relentlessly.
Strands sliced across his arms, his hoodie tore apart, and one needle-like strand pierced his shoulder hard enough to make him cry out.
But he kept running.
The hair swarm sensed danger instantly.
Thousands of black strands turned simultaneously toward him.
Like predators.
Like spears.
Like death.
Power shouted—
“NOW!”
Vikram stomped downward with all his strength.
BOOM.
The hospital floor shattered violently beneath them.
Concrete cracked apart instantly, tiles exploded upward, and the entire corridor collapsed inward around the impact point.
Sadhna lost her footing immediately.
So did Vikram.
Both crashed downward together as the floor beneath them gave way partially into the lower maintenance section.
The sudden fall broke her concentration completely.
Sadhna hit the ground hard with a painful cough.
At the same moment, every floating strand of hair collapsed lifelessly around the hospital.
The storm ended instantly.
Hair dropped across the corridors like dead insects after rain.
Silence followed.
Then slowly, people began realizing it had stopped.
No more pulling.
No more screaming.
No more supernatural attacks.
Above them, nurses and doctors stared downward into the damaged floor section in stunned disbelief.
Sadhna remained sitting on the broken concrete, trembling violently now.
Her golden eyes slowly faded back toward normal.
Then finally, reality hit her again.
Her parents were still dead.
Nothing had changed that.
She lowered her head and started crying.
Not dramatic crying.
Not cinematic.
Real crying.
Broken crying.
The kind where breathing hurts.
The kind where words stop working.
Vikram sat nearby, awkwardly covered in dust, blood, and torn clothing while trying to process literally everything happening in his life recently.
He looked toward her carefully, then away, then toward her again.
Power stood silently above them, watching.
Sadhna kept crying quietly while clutching her knees.
“I want my mom…”
The sentence shattered something inside the silence.
Vikram immediately looked deeply uncomfortable.
He had absolutely no idea how to handle crying people, especially supernatural crying people capable of turning hospitals into hair-based war zones.
For several moments, he just sat there awkwardly.
Then finally, without saying anything, he slowly moved beside her and sat quietly on the broken floor.
No speech.
No motivational dialogue.
No fake wisdom.
Just silent company.
Sadhna cried beside him while loose strands of hair rested harmlessly across the ground around them.
And for the first time since awakening, the storm inside her calmed slightly.