The teleportation gate shimmered faintly, humming with residual energy before its light dissolved into the air. In the blink of an eye, Aryan, Abhishek, Ayush, and Prateek found themselves standing on a stone-paved square, their eyes wide and unblinking.
Indranagar.
They had arrived.
Aryan took a step forward, his boots clicking softly against the ancient stones beneath him, and the world exploded into a spectacle he could scarcely believe.
"This… this can't be real," Prateek whispered, as his eyes darted across the mesmerizing scene around them.
Indranagar was a city unlike any other. Towering temples, carved with the delicate hands of forgotten artisans, stood shoulder to shoulder with sleek, crystalline towers that reached into the clouds. The sandstone walls of old buildings, shaped like miniature fortresses, glowed faintly with lines of embedded circuits—ancient tradition entwined with futuristic elegance. Overhead, floating chariots zipped through the air, their golden frames reflecting sunlight like celestial fish in the sky. Mechanical drones, shaped like Garudas and other mythical beasts, soared between towers and spires, delivering messages or monitoring the bustling life below.
It was a city where the past and future walked hand in hand—where the divine merged with the technological.
A performer in the corner of the square twirled flames in the shape of lotus petals, his Vidya manipulating fire with elegant precision. Nearby, a street vendor sold memory-infused bangles said to let you relive dreams, while a merchant barked prices for ancient relics and salvaged tech from the Great War.
"I thought Kalp Ashram was wild," Aryan said with a slow grin. "But this… this is something else."
"Dude," Abhishek muttered, slack-jawed, "are we even in the same world right now?"
"I saw a guy riding a mechanical lion," Kartik blurted suddenly from behind them, clearly overwhelmed. "I swear! Had flame-throwing eyes and everything!"
Ayush groaned. "Focus, idiots. We still have to reach the academy gate."
Their laughter echoed through the air as they set off, eyes bouncing from detail to detail, trying and failing not to gawk like tourists.
Indranagar wasn't governed by any one of the six empires. It didn't need to be. Nestled near the border of the Agniraaj Rajya(Fire Empire), the mighty Fire Kingdom, Indranagar stood alone, an independent city governed solely by the Ashvattha Vidya Mandala. While the other kingdoms fought for power and territory, Indranagar remained neutral, sacred ground for learning and mastery, untouched by political influence. It was here that one of the Mandala's most important branches stood tall.
As the boys rounded a corner, their destination came into view.
The Gates of the Ashvattha Vidya Mandala – Indranagar Branch towered above the plaza like the open arms of a giant guardian. Carved from white stone laced with obsidian and glowing with faint lines of runes, the gate seemed alive, resonating with the breath of the World Tree's ancient energy. A grand staircase led up to it, and beyond its threshold, a vast courtyard sprawled with structures that seemed part temple, part fortress, and part future.
Dozens of young aspirants had already gathered—some from the Jala Rajya(Water Empire), others from the Vaayuvya Rajya, and even a few clearly from the distant Bhouma Rajya(Earth empire). Each radiated power and ambition. Some bore family insignias, others carried custom-forged weapons. But all had the same fire in their eyes: the hunger to rise.
Ayush's gaze swept across them with a furrowed brow. "There are a lot of strong ones here. We can't take anyone lightly."
"I heard the youngest son of the Agniraaj Rajya is joining," Prateek added in a low voice. "And the Jala Rajya's princess too."
Aryan arched an eyebrow. "Imperial blood, huh? I'm curious to see what kind of power they actually hold."
Abhishek threw an arm around Aryan's shoulders with a wide grin. "Let them come. We've got you. You're gonna shake this place to its roots."
While the group bantered near the entrance, a familiar figure stood calmly at the registration desk—a tall, composed man with gray-streaked hair and a quiet strength in his posture. Tarun, their guardian and Aryan's quiet protector, was already filling out enrollment forms for each of them.
But as fate often likes to remind those who laugh too easily—peace is never permanent.
A voice, sharp and laced with venom, cut through the noise like a blade.
"Well, well… If it isn't the little bastard who beat up my subordinate."
The boys turned as one. Kartik visibly stiffened beside them, eyes flickering between Aryan and the newcomer.
He stood tall, muscles honed and posture brimming with barely restrained aggression. His rugged street gear did little to hide the ink on his arms—red snake sigils curling up his biceps, marking him clearly as a member of the Crimson Coil, a notorious gang from the outer villages. His name was Ramesh. And he wasn't just a thug.
He was dangerous.
Ramesh stepped closer, cracking his knuckles as his eyes locked onto Aryan with amused malice. "Kartik tells me you've got a smart mouth and fast hands. I'm here to see if either of those actually work."
Aryan met his gaze without flinching. A lazy smile curled his lips. "So what if I did? You want a taste too?"
A hush fell over the crowd as Ramesh's aura flared. The air grew heavier, the pressure sharp like storm winds before a downpour. A few of the students nearby instinctively stepped back. But Aryan… didn't move.
His fingers twitched slightly, his body alert. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't even scowl.
Ramesh leaned in close. "Careful, kid. I'm close with Prince Shivam of the Agniraaj Rajya. You mess with me, you mess with the wrong circle."
Aryan's brow rose, unimpressed.
"Oh no," he drawled mockingly. "You're acquainted with a young prince? How terrifying."
Then, with a flick of his hand, he waved the brute off. "Get lost, dumbass."
A few choked chuckles escaped from Abhishek and Ayush, while Prateek nervously glanced at Tarun.
Ramesh's jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury.
Kartik tugged at his sleeve, whispering urgently, "Not here, boss. The Academy—this isn't the place..."
After a long moment of tension, Ramesh spat on the ground and stepped back. "This isn't over."
Aryan didn't even turn. "It better not be. That was barely a warm-up."
And just like that, the storm passed.
The boys turned their attention back to the towering gates. Something in the air had shifted charged with anticipation, with dreams not yet realized. This was no ordinary academy. This was the crucible where legends were forged, where destinies collided.
Aryan felt it in his bones.
He wasn't here just to learn.
He was here to awaken.
And beyond those gates… his story was waiting to be written.