Vikram opened the door of Mayasabha, expecting, as usual, to see some historic event playing out in the throne room.
But this time, it was different.
The door behind him vanished as he entered, leaving him standing in midair with nothing beneath his feet.
He looked around in confusion.
A vast sea roared beneath him while clouds drifted above his head, and the ocean stretched endlessly in every direction.
Yet somehow, the throne remained suspended in the middle of the vastness, even though the entire room around it had disappeared.
Vikram’s eyes widened when an enormous, golden-hued mountain rose from the ocean, emerging above the water like the sun rising through the clouds.
Its peaks were covered with trees bearing countless fruits, and the mountain was surrounded by the endless ocean on every side.
But the most unusual thing about the mountain was that it had enormous wings.
At its peak resided Kinnaras, semi-divine beings associated with music, along with great serpents.
Then a man emerged upon the mountain and performed pranam, clasping his hands together in reverence.
“Oh, great son of the wind, among the Vanaras, come and rest upon me.
I am Mountain Mainaka, and I wish to serve you, great warrior, O chief of the Vanaras.”
Vikram stared in disbelief.
“A mountain with wings?”
He tried to look in the direction where Mainaka was gazing, but the divine aura of Hanuman was so piercing that it felt like looking directly at the sun.
His eyes began to burn almost immediately, forcing him to look down.
“Ahhhh!”
The vision suddenly stopped, and Mayasabha’s throne room returned to its usual appearance.
Vikram wiped his eyes, which had become wet and red.
“What was that?” he muttered.
Ice suddenly emerged on the palm of his hand.
He looked around in confusion before narrowing his eyes at the ice.
“Use it.
Mayasabha has given it to you.”
Vikram’s ear twitched as he looked toward the source of the voice.
It was Power.
“Mayasabha gave it?”
Vikram asked as he placed the ice over his eyes.
Power walked toward him and replied with a flat, dry laugh.
“Yes.
Since someone is far too foolish to gaze directly upon a literal god.
You have yet to reach that level, but as you witnessed, Kinnaras and great serpents are semi-divine beings.”
They began walking through another exit, which connected to a hallway leading toward the section where Power’s, Ashani’s, Anamika’s, and Vaijanti’s rooms were located.
They eventually entered Power’s room, where Vikram sat upon a cloud, as her chamber was fashioned from walls and soft pink clouds.
Power settled into her seat.
“So, why have you come at this ungodly hour without even bathing?”
She asked while drinking tea that had arrived through a small cloud, her gaze never leaving Vikram.
Seeing the troubled expression upon his face, she raised a brow.
“What has happened?”
Vikram sighed.
“Khais is alive.”
Power paused, her expression turning puzzled as her brow furrowed.
“How?
We watched him vanish before our very eyes.”
Vikram merely raised his hand in surrender.
“I don’t know.
But he has claimed another victim.
I’m going to fight him again tonight, but we need to find a way to finish him for good.”
Power nodded in agreement.
With a final sip, she finished her tea and placed the cup upon a small cloud hovering beside her seat.
“Very well.
Come.
We shall determine the possible cause behind this.”
Vikram followed her through the hallway, and eventually they reached a small garden within the palace.
The moment he entered, Vikram looked around in fascination.
“It’s a really beautiful garden.
I’ve never seen trees like these before.”
Power remained unimpressed.
“Oh, please.
This is hardly anything remarkable.”
After crossing the garden, they entered a large library situated at its far end.
It was not a separate structure, but rather another section of Mayasabha itself.
Its ceiling was made entirely of glass panels, resembling an enormous glass bowl placed over the library.
Vines adorned the ceiling and walls, while a magnificent chandelier hung at the center, illuminated by countless candles.
Rows upon rows of bookshelves filled the library.
Vikram noticed a librarian arranging books nearby, and she glanced toward him and Power.
“What is it that you seek?”
“We require a book concerning ghosts and spirits.”
The librarian looked at them with mild irritation.
“And for what purpose?”
Vikram answered hesitantly.
“Ahm…
there is a man who transformed into a Khais after his death and has been haunting a road.
I defeated him, yet he has not departed.”
The librarian studied him from head to toe.
“So…
you are Vikram.”
She paused before continuing.
“I am Sarasvati, one of the Heavenly Queens and the keeper of this library.
As for your question, the answer is quite simple.
You must make a pact with him.”
Power raised an eyebrow.
“What sort of pact?”
Sarasvati held the book in her hands and pressed her lips together, lifting her chin slightly as she contemplated the matter.
“Ask him what he desires.
If his request lies within reason, grant it.
If it proves to be something more extreme, there are numerous volumes concerning Tantra, the mystical arts.”
Vikram, curious, followed Sarasvati as she arranged books on the shelves.
“How many types of demons are there?
I mean, it’ll be a problem if the bugs I killed come back for revenge.”
Sarasvati did not look at him as she continued arranging the books.
“When a person dies, they proceed to another realm, be it Heaven or Hell.
However, those who die prematurely may sometimes remain upon the earthly plane, wandering without purpose.
Those are what you would call ordinary ghosts.”
She placed another book onto the shelf.
“Second, there are those who die through brutal means and develop a deep grudge against the person responsible for their suffering.
Refusing to enter the afterlife, such spirits may attempt to harm the living.
Thus, the Angels of Death—Yamadutas, as you mortals call them—actively hunt these spirits and drag them into the afterlife.”
She paused and looked at him.
Vikram straightened under her gaze as her voice hardened.
“Third, and the kind I detest most—the Pret.
Demons formed from the souls of humans.
They are vengeful, utterly selfish, and born when a human dies prematurely while burdened by an unfinished desire or consuming resentment.”
Sarasvati turned back toward the shelves.
“There are several varieties among them.
Bodiless demons, Khais, Pishachas—or what you might call blood demons.”
She finally glanced at Vikram.
“Bodiless demons and Khais possess territories they refuse to abandon.
Blood demons, however, are far more insidious.
Once they select a victim, they afflict them with illness and gradually consume them from within.”
Her expression became colder.
“The reason is rather simple.
They envy those who still possess what they have lost—the privilege of being alive.
They crave a physical body by whatever means necessary, and that desperate envy is what drives them to such violence.”
She looked at Power and Vikram.
“Now, shoo.
I have work to attend to.”
Vikram and Power started leaving, but Sarasvati called out to him over her shoulder.
“And Vikram, once you have passed Ashani’s and Anamika’s tests, come to the second floor.
I shall conduct your test myself; I remain rather skeptical about you.”
Vikram looked at Power, then back at Sarasvati.
“Yes, I will, and I will not try to disappoint you.”
Sarasvati glanced at him once before returning to her work.
Power and Vikram returned to Vikram’s room.
Vikram looked at her and spoke thoughtfully.
“She doesn’t like me, I guess.”
Power, seated in his chair, replied smoothly.
“Do not concern yourself with it.
She is simply that way; she has little inclination toward social interaction.”
Vikram, lying on the bed, looked at her.
“Non-social, huh?”
He sat upright with determination.
“Anyway, tonight let’s go and talk to that Khais. This story is hosted at g.com.
We need to know what he wants.”
Power agreed as she stretched her arms.
“Then summon that Chandra as well.
He may prove useful.”
Vikram nodded in agreement and texted Chandra.
Chandra was in his room when he read the message.
He simply replied.
“Okay.”
That night, the three of them returned to the road.
The spy who had been keeping watch over Vikram was unable to track him, as Vikram had fled from his house toward Petrol Pump Road at abnormal speed, causing the spy to lose sight of him.
At the road, Vikram approached the man wearing only a small cloth around his waist.
“Do you have any tobacco or cigarettes?”
Vikram stared directly into his eyes, already knowing that the man was Khais.
He spoke dismissively.
“Stop pretending to be human.
Tell me what it will take for you to leave this road.”
The man turned around and transformed into his Khais form, his deep voice rumbling through his chest.
“You have defeated me, so I shall tell you.
I want the blood of the person who made me this.”
Chandra’s brow furrowed, as he had an idea of whose blood Khais was demanding.
Vikram, however, had no idea.
“Whose, exactly?” he asked simply.
Khais leaned down, looking directly into his eyes.
“The blood of Fisherman Anna.
He took my kidney and left me bleeding in my own home.”
Vikram’s jaw dropped in shock.
“Why did he do that to you?
And why your kidney?”
Khais replied.
“Because I had received a kidney transplant.
The kidney belonged to his son.”
“Fisherman Anna and his rival became involved in a gang war.
During that conflict, his son was killed, and all his organs were sold.”
Khais paused, his red eyes burning with hatred.
“But Fisherman Anna somehow gained supernatural powers and slaughtered the entire Rokda gang in the cargo area of Mazegaon Dock.”
Vikram processed the implications before finally agreeing.
“Okay.
I’ll bring him to you.
In return, don’t hurt anyone until I come back.”
Khais shook his head.
“I refuse.
First, his blood.
Then I will stop.”
Vikram’s irritation grew, and his voice rose.
“I promised you I’ll bring him to you, so why not stop?
Give me some time.”
Khais glared at him with piercing red eyes.
“I said no.
It is my nature now.
If a person defeats me in a wrestling match, he shall be permitted to cross this road.
If he loses, he shall surrender his life.
That is final.”
Khais vanished, leaving Vikram standing there with his fists clenched in irritation.
Chandra looked at him grimly.
“This is a problem.
It means you’ll have to come here every night to fight him.”
Vikram sighed and turned toward Chandra and Power.
“What should we do, Power?”
Power thought for a moment before looking toward Chandra.
“You shall gather whatever information you can regarding Fisherman Anna.
In the meantime, Vikram shall deal with Khais each night.”
She then turned toward Vikram.
“Consider it a form of training.
You could certainly use it to sharpen your abilities.”
Vikram sighed.
The three of them continued keeping watch over the road, but fortunately, no one came that night.