The Hunter Genesis - Revelation: The Hunter Genesis

OTHER WORKS

The Hunter Genesis - Whatever it is, wherever it is, he will find it (Book 1 of the Hunter series),

The Essence of Ganga – The Story of Mandakini,

Ensemble – A collection of short stories and essays,

The Incredible Mr. Sweets – A coming-of-age story of an ex-con who finds his calling in life through music,

Shahenshah – The story of Shrenik Shah, the cancer conqueror,

The Metro-Maniac Chronicles - Through the eyes of an Obsessive-Compulsive Metro-Maniac,

Double One Zero (110) – Out of the Shadows,

Diary from Heaven - Confessions of an Eternal Junkie,

Version One and a Half (Version 1 ½) - A glimpse of India in the ‘80s,

Concealed Words (Co-Author), and

Life – A culmination of stories (Co-Author).

Acknowledgement

Recently, I had a life-altering experience as someone precious walked into my arms: my daughter Sahiba. Life couldn’t be more beautiful; thank you, Sahiba, for blessing us!

My family has always been a constant source of motivation; thank you all for being there!

I want to express my deepest gratitude to all the readers who appreciated Book 1 and thank you for continuously following up about the status of Book 2. I am grateful that many of you have joined the Hunters’ journey and waited for Book 2.

***

Some of the earliest human settlements flourished in the Indian sub-continent and paved the way for many great civilizations across the globe, thanks to continuous migration. The region's social systems, traditions, and customs have existed for thousands of years and are still practised. Telugu and Sanskrit are a few ancient languages that are spoken to date. The influence of Sanskrit on other languages, including English, is well known. The history of the Indian subcontinent is well known; numerous revered yogis, sadhus, travellers, philosophers, thinkers, and invaders have documented it extensively throughout the ages. Even though Alexander the Great didn't survive the trip back to Europe in 327 B.C., the stories about India's riches and unique culture travelled to Europe.

Two sacred texts that describe ancient India's rich heritage, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, are an essential part of Indian culture and have been translated into many languages worldwide.

Bhagwat Geeta, a collection of poems recorded in the epic of Mahabharata as a dialogue between Prince Arjuna and Krishna during the Kurukshetra war, is still as relevant today as it was in ancient times. The Gita is an ancient story of Krishna leading Arjuna into the battle of Kurukshetra and a spiritual text about the inner struggle for self-mastery and attaining happiness through yoga. It is the quintessential guide to living life to the fullest.

India is the cradle of the human race, the birthplace of human speech, the mother of history, the grandmother of legend, and the great-grandmother of tradition. Our most valuable and most instructive materials in the history of man are treasured up in India only. Mark Twain, American author.

The Hunter series is dedicated to India's rich ancient culture and heritage.

Prologue

The extent of human ingenuity is immeasurable, and this very ingenuity led to the invention of the earliest tools. Since the dawn of time, we have used tools to simplify everyday tasks, and the same tools also led to the birth of many great civilizations. Using simple tools, our earliest ancestors created landmark structures, fed millions, and paved the way for future generations.

A simple stick and stone picked up unaltered from the ground were probably the very first implements used by humans. Stones smashed and broken to give a jagged edge on one end became the first stone tools deliberately made. Pretty soon, someone figured out that the same tools used to dig up the ground, cut down wood, create shelter and hunt animals could also be used to hurt and kill humans. The very tools that made the lives of the earliest humans easy, somewhere down the line, also became the very first weapons used to threaten, hurt or kill other human beings.

Throughout history, the good and the righteous have wielded weapons to uphold the greater good, stop Evil, ensure justice, and feed, protect, and safeguard others. But absolute power also corrupts the human mind and gives birth to Evil. Weapons have also been used to satisfy the ego, instil fear and terrorize, cause carnage or simply because the person wielding them was unstable. The quintessential battle between Good and Evil has always existed and shall continue so long as mankind exists. It is a never-ending vicious circle where the more we innovate and use cutting-edge technology for the betterment of humanity, the more we get closer to a life-ending event because of one of these technologies.

Radioactive material is used to generate electricity, which can power millions of homes, and it can also be used to create bombs that can kill millions.

With our never-ending thirst for knowledge, exploration, and innovation, especially in the twentieth century, we have devised more and more innovative and deadlier ways to hurt others while sitting afar. But this is not new; dangerous technology and weapons even existed in ancient times. Puranas, the all-known ancient encyclopedia, had detailed records of instances when humans performed grilling tapasya, sometimes for years, and meditated in the most challenging conditions. Their singular aim was to contact the inter-dimensional supreme beings. The Himalayas, the gateway to the gods, have always been used as a transit stop by these supreme celestial beings, known as the Creators, for inter-dimensional travel to and from Earth. Hence, it has been a hub for tapasya for many centuries. Unbeknown to the Hunter, the Ashram, high up in the Himalayas, is one of those inter-dimensional gateways.

These men hoped to be empowered with powerful, otherworldly weapons. For the Creators, these were merely tools used to cultivate life, but the same tools became weapons in human hands. Pleased by the commitment, in rare cases, the Creators granted these unique humans the opportunity to wield their tools. These interdimensional tools channelled innumerable amounts of energy from the universe. They hoped the tools would be used only for the greater good. The fact is that a tool or technology is not good by itself, and neither is it evil; it's the hand that wields it which decides if it is for a good or a sinister purpose. They didn't grant these tools to humanity solely for sinister purposes; the receiver intended to use the godly tools as weapons for propagating Evil. The extent of damage these tools could cause is evident from the fact that humanity nearly came to the brink of extinction when they were used last time on a mass scale during the Kurukshetra war.

The Creators were architects of life across the universe, and to avoid any direct intervention, they engineered humans to have free will. They gave us the ability to think, have opinions and make decisions. However, different needs, thoughts and opinions gave birth to conflicts which led to wars. We fought, sometimes for food, sometimes for land and sometimes for riches, but despite having the powers of the universe at their disposal, the Creators rarely influenced or took sides. They always allowed humanity's free will and judgement, of good and evil, to prevail and resolve conflicts. They always stayed on the sidelines, living amongst us in the human form, and in extreme cases, granted their powers to a chosen few. Very few human beings were born with a code embedded in their DNA. This code could be used to contact the Creators. Combined with extreme dedication and perseverance, this code was the only way to connect with them.

The code, written in the language of Creators - Sanskrit, was meant to act as a fail-safe in case of a life-ending catastrophe. It was meant to summon them only in case of a planetary emergency. The Good respected and never misused the code, but the Evil had other plans. No humans entrusted with the code were born evil, but the thought of possessing the otherworldly power was corruptible, and the powerful tools were misused. The Good, too, used these tools to counter the Evil, and the subsequent collateral damage was catastrophic.

***

Mankind's fetish with godly weapons continues in ‘THE HUNTER GENESIS – REVELATION’.

The Carnage

‘Are you sure you will be able to hit the target?’ Bheema- the strong one, enquired as the young Arjuna acquired his target.

‘Brother, I can even hit a target with my eyes closed. This is nothing,’ Arjuna- the best archer in the camp, boasted. Arjuna's skills were impeccable, and his prowess as a great archer was well-known even at a young age.

Arjuna wanted to break the previous record of eighteen hundred meters and had set the target two thousand meters away. With the practice weapons used to train students, this was virtually impossible to achieve, but Arjuna was confident.

‘You better hit it, brother, Duroyodhana, and I have a wager. I get his food tonight if you hit it,’ Bheema said and giggled.

‘You will lose the bet for sure,’ Duroyodhana- the eldest of the Kaurava brothers, teased Bheema while rubbing his hands at the thought of getting Bheema's food.

The young Pandava and Kaurava princes' along with Ashwathama, had ventured deep inside the forest in the Aravali hills to test a new weapon mastered by Arjuna. They all trained to become fierce warriors at Guru Dronacharya's ashram in Gurugram. Truly like one big happy family, all cousins trained under one roof. This was way before the dynastic clash would turn them into sworn enemies.

Ashwathama's father, the royal Guru of both Kaurava and Pandava clans, Dronacharya, was away to meet the King. In the absence of the Guru, they all sneaked out of the school and travelled to the secluded location in the jungle.

‘Boys, I suggest you all take cover and protect your ears because this will create a loud bang!’ with a smirk, Arjuna stretched the bowstring and got ready to shoot. ‘I am tired of practising under controlled conditions at the ashram.’

Hearing what Arjuna had to say, everyone made haste and got behind nearby trees and boulders.

‘Oh boy!’ was all that Yudhusthir- the wise one, could utter even before the arrow left Arjuna's bow. He had a bad feeling about all this.

‘WOOSH,’ the arrow leaves the bow and heads towards the earthen pot dangling from a tree. Arjuna felt a huge recoil as the arrow left the bow but managed to stay steady. Everyone else standing behind him felt a draft of air hitting them.

‘BOOM!’ a deafening explosion rocks the entire jungle as the arrow strikes the target. The shock waves from the blast travelled in all directions. Animals ran helter-skelter as the explosion caused ripples far away. Though the blast wasn't huge, the weapon released much energy upon impact.

‘BOY O BOY, THAT WAS FAB!’ Arjuna exults, throwing a punch in the air and jumping with joy. He stood there unfazed, even by the shock waves. He is pleased with the outcome of his shot.

Duryodhana and Bheema peeked from behind a boulder and looked at the blast site.

‘THAT WAS AWESOME! YOU DID IT BROTHER, YOU BROKE THE RECORD!’ Bheema cheered, and everyone followed his lead. They all cheered for Arjuna and celebrated. He is lifted by everyone on their shoulders.

While everyone enjoyed the moment, Yudhishthir had his eyes hooked at the blast site. His eyes and mouth remained wide open as he noticed something. ‘Guys,’ he called out faintly while still looking at the blast site. His voice was lost in the loud cheers.

‘GUYS!’ Yudhishthir screamed, and everyone finally turned towards him. They all were shocked to see a massive fire around the blast site. The fire quickly engulfed a large part of the jungle, and everyone panicked.

‘You and you quickly rush towards the ashram and get some help,’ Yudhishthir ordered Dushasana and Vikarna. While the two rode towards the ashram, everyone else looked for ways to get water to save the burning forest.

This was the impact of a very low-intensity weapon which was used to train student warriors; the extent of destruction caused by a full-fledged otherwordily weapon would be unimaginable.

The fire was finally controlled, not before a large portion of the jungle was destroyed, as help soon arrived from the ashram. The young princes were reprimanded and made to do hard labour for a whole week. Amrit stood there admiringly looking at his younger self and the Pandava and Kaurava princes having fun even while performing odd jobs together as part of their punishment. Guided by childhood innocence, they all were oblivious of the terrible things to come in the future.

Admiration soon turned into a horrid feeling as Amrit stood near a massive battlefield, and all he could see was carnage. The sound of arrows shot, and swords, and maces colliding was deafening. The eerie sound of a chakram decapitating, swords and spears piercing and maces hitting the human body could make any man sick. Soldiers and animals were lying all around, covered in blood, guts and mud, either dead or screaming in pain. The injured were trying to pull themselves away to safety as there was no way for help to reach them while the fighting was still on. They had to survive somehow till the sun went down, when they would be carried to their respective camps for treatment. Those fighting were oblivious to the injured soldiers lying on the ground, and more often than not, the injured soldiers were trampled by, either soldiers – fighting for their lives, or horses, or chariots. The foot soldiers had to watch out for other soldiers and maintain their balance on the slippery battlefield. The soil mixed with body parts, blood and guts had turned the battlefield into a slippery death trap, and it was hard to distinguish mud from the human body. The fallen soldiers had little or no chance of survival in this chaos.

Amrit looked at his hands and trembled to see himself in full battle armour; he was now Ashwathama.

‘Not again.’ His voice quavered as he was about to revisit the day when he was informed about his father's death.

Lord Krishna, the human avatar of Lord Vishnu – the protector amongst all supreme beings, took human form to preserve peace and prevent evil from taking over. This was one of the rare occasions when the celestial beings had actively intervened in human affairs for the greater good.

Guru Dronacharya efficiently led the Kaurava army after the fall of Bhishma Pitamah and was unstoppable. Every time he moved his sword, countless Pandava soldiers were slain. Every time he shot an arrow, a large part of the Pandava's army was obliterated. Divisions had already been drawn, sides had already been chosen before the battle began, and the Guru had pledged his allegiance to the throne, with the Kaurava family scion as the King. There was no going back for the Guru; he had no choice but to lead the Kaurava army unequivocally.

Lord Krishna knew defeating the Guru on the battlefield was impossible, so he planned to capture the Guru by convincing him that his son, Ashwathama, was killed. It was deceitful, but not precisely, because the plan was for Bheema to kill an elephant named Ashwathama and loudly declare the kill. The word travelled from one soldier to another, and finally, like the game of Chinese whispers, when the message finally reached the Guru, the part about Ashwathama being an elephant was missing. The Guru couldn’t believe the news. He went to Yudhishthira to confirm this, as he knew that Yudhishthira would never lie. Though Yudhishthira’s reply in Sanskrit was cryptic, the Guru believed him. It roughly translated to, Ashwathama died, be it a man or an elephant.

Upon confirmation from Yudhishthira, he lost all his will to fight, and the Guru disarmed himself in despair. He then sat down and meditated, and his soul left his body searching for Ashwathama's soul. In the interim, Dhristadyumna seized the moment and decapitated the defenceless Guru.

Dhristadyumna, the son of Drupada—the King of the Panchal kingdom and the twin brother of Draupadi, was born after his father made a fire offering in return for a son who would kill the Guru. Drupada had been humiliated by Dronacharya, and Dhristadyumna had waited all his life for this exact moment.

No one from the Pandava camp had imagined that the Guru would be killed when they agreed upon this plan. Destiny had pitted them against each other, but they all loved him and only wanted to capture the Guru when he was disarmed. Upon hearing about the news of his beloved Guru being slain, Arjuna cried inconsolably.

Ashwathama growled like an injured wolf as he got to know about his father’s slaying. He lost his mind and rode through the battlefield to exact his revenge. Blinded by rage, Ashwathama set out to kill everyone who conspired to murder his father. He wanted to punish the Pandavas dearly for what he considered a cowardly act. He had lost his sense of proportion and, in the process, made a choice for which he was about to regret for eternity.

Ashwathama, aka Amrit, positioned himself on top of a hill overlooking one of the battlefields. Soldiers from both sides were engaged in fierce fighting scattered across multiple battle zones in Kurukshetra. He prepared to launch his most deadly weapon; he closed his eyes and recited a Sanskrit shloka. The Guru’s son raised his right hand with the bow above his head while still reciting. The clouds over him turned dark, a sign of the storm that was about to come. The clouds roared and began spinning slowly and then at a tremendous pace creating a twister. The twister spirals towards Ashwathama, and pretty soon, the twister stretches from the sky to the ground. Ashwathama stood unperturbed in the middle of the tornado, reciting shlokas. Soon, an inter-dimensional gateway opened in the clouds, and a lightning bolt strikes Ashwathamas quiver while passing through the bow. The sound of thunder rocks the entire battlefield. Soldiers from both sides stopped fighting and looked towards the hilltop.

Ashwathama was unfazed by the bolt striking so close to his body and it had no impact on him. He continued to recite shlokas aggressively. The next moment, an arrow appeared in the quiver, and the twister vanished with the gateway closing in the sky. Ashwathama felt the presence of the arrow and opened his eyes. This was Narayanastra, Ashwathama's most powerful weapon, granted to him by none other than Lord Vishnu. He gently took out the arrow and placed it on his bow. A bright light appeared as the arrow, and the bow came in contact. The soldiers trembled with fear as they noticed the glow on the hilltop. There was vibration throughout his body as he tried stabilising the weapon on his bow. He was a mighty warrior, and Ashwathama masterfully handled the weapon. As he held Narayanastra on the bow, Ashwathama felt a massive surge of energy through his body. There was rage in his eyes as he tightly pulled the bowstring. He growled in anger as he visualised his father being murdered and screamed with a loud high-pitched sound that was audible across the battlefield.

Soldiers with a clear view of the hilltop covered their ears even before the arrow left the bow; they were aware of the force about to be unleashed. He raised the bow and positioned it at an angle. He was targeting a battlefield where Dhristadyumna was fighting. He then released the bowstring, creating a loud twang sound. Soldiers who couldn't cover their ears lost their hearing for a few seconds as the sound of the arrow leaving the bow was deafening. The energy created by the recoil in the bow formed a ripple effect on the ground around Ashwathama. 

Soldiers from both sides looked horrified as the arrow zoomed through the skyline, leaving a contrail. They took a sigh of relief as the arrow crossed over them. Thrust by sheer energy, the arrow-headed towards a location about a mile away. Here a Pandava Akshuhini was engaged in a fierce battle with a Kaurava battalion. Dhristadyumna supposedly led the Pandava battle formation but retired from the battlefield moments ago.

The arrow zipped towards the unsuspecting soldiers who fought bravely for the honour of their respective kings. They were engaged in savage combat, unaware of the cosmic power heading towards them. As the arrow thundered towards them, they saw a bright light followed by the eerie sound of death nearing them. This was an all too familiar sound, and they all knew that their time was up. Narayanastra hits the middle of the battlefield and obliterates everyone by the sheer energy released in all directions. It didn't spare soldiers from the Kaurava side either, as everything in the vicinity was immediately vaporised. The tremendous energy released from the detonation did not differentiate between Pandava and Kaurava soldiers. While the soldiers near ground zero were granted a quick, easy and painless death, those away from ground zero had to endure a slow and painful outcome. Soldiers, horses, elephants and other animals rushed away from the battlefield covered in fire. There were many lying on the ground crying in pain due to massive skin burns and limb loss, pleading to be put out of their misery. The massive explosion shook the ground, and caused continuous tremors that were felt far away. The Beings also felt the tremors in the divine realm and observed their beloved creation, hurting each other, helplessly.

Ashwathama suddenly transformed into Amrit, the Sadhu, and he too saw the giant mushroom cloud rising high up in the sky at ground zero and the subsequent carnage with tears flooding his eyes. The mushroom cloud was so high that it was visible from many miles away.

Amrit was cursed to revisit this horrifying moment again and again, till eternity. He tried to stop himself every time he had this nightmare, not realising that this was just a memory playing over and over in his mind.

'What have I done?' He was remorseful seeing the destruction caused by his weapon.

Even though ground zero was far away, he felt the extreme heat from the explosion on his skin. The shock waves knocked down many soldiers fighting near him, and subsequent heat from the mushroom cloud caused severe burn injures. There were hundreds and thousands of soldiers across great distances, either dead or screaming in pain; the screams seemed never-ending. Using far sight he could see bodies of soldiers and animals burning all around ground zero. Those who were still alive prayed for a quick death rather than suffering the agony. As the wind blew in his direction, the smell of burning flesh made him sick.

Amrit looked at his hands and was terrified to see the massive bow with a glowing arrow ready to be shot. He trembled with fear as he saw another divine arrow in his hands. Suddenly, the entire battlefield freezes as horns can be heard everywhere. Amrit immediately drops the bow, and the arrow vanishes, even before the bow can hit the ground. He sighed in relief as it was evening; it was time to stop fighting as the sun was about to set. Whatever the fighting position, the soldiers immediately stopped and began retreating towards their respective camps. After an entire day of killing and maiming, they felt a huge lump in their throats as they looked around. Taking each step through the battlefield, where many bodies lay beneath their feet, was difficult. They felt like a massive weight had been tied to their feet, and the walk to the camp seemed like an eternity. Many people rushed in with water and herbs to tend to the injured lying in the field. Those tasked with the difficult job of segregating the living from the dead too started their work as the soldiers continued to inch their way towards their camps. Many injured soldiers lay unconscious in the field, and they were carefully checking everyone to make sure none of the inert soldiers were mistaken for the dead.

While the dead were taken away from the field on carts, the injured were slowly moved to the medical camps where traditional healers worked round the clock. Since segregating the bodies wasn’t possible due to the extent of damage caused by the otherworldly weapons, fallen soldiers from both sides were cremated with complete military honour in a common area. Keeping their differences aside, many kings and generals, irrespective of their allegiance, lined up in front of the funeral pyres to pay respect to the fallen. Amrit wandered through the endless lines of pyres even as the weight of remorse made it difficult for him to walk.

Meanwhile, in the camps, many soldiers wept inconsolably as they washed their hands again and again, but the blood didn't wash off, while many kept rubbing their hands even as the blood was no longer there. Some soldiers couldn't dare come close to the water as they were afraid that they might see the faces of those they had killed. They just sat there staring at nothing while still covered in blood. Many of them lost their minds seeing so much blood, gore and carnage and had to be restrained. Traditional healers used herbs to treat the injured even as the screams of the injured soldiers lying in front of them were unbearable. The adverse psychological impact of the war on both the soldiers and healers would be felt for many generations to come. Amrit had to witness this day again and again as much of the carnage was his doing.

The scene changed to the eighteenth night of the war, and Amrit was again transformed into the vengeful Ashwathama. No matter how much Amrit tried, he could not stop himself from causing further damage. He attacked the Pandava camp during the night, which was against the rules of engagement, and caught Dhristadyumna resting in his tent. Dhristadyumna was no match for the Guru's son. As Ashwathama pummeled Dhristadyumna, he begged for a quick death, asking to be slayed with Ashwathama's sword. Ashwathama ignored his pleas, and in a fit of rage, he proceeded to beat and smother Dhristadyumna to a slow and painful death.

Amrit woke up the very next moment, breathing heavily and sweating. He looked around, wiping the sweat off his face. Notwithstanding the bone-numbing temperature, he immediately rushed out and raised his arms in forgiveness. ‘Oh Lord Krishna, please release me from this curse of immortality,’ he pleaded, but as usual, there was no response, and he felt dejected.

His past always followed him and reminded him about the war he and many other ferocious warriors had once fought. He folded his hands and once again prayed for forgiveness before heading towards Kanika Dwar. He sat before the Shiva Linga in the temple and prayed for many hours.

Filled with extreme rage, this was just one of the many times Ashwathama had misused the godly weapons, entrusted to him for the greater good. His anger and thirst for revenge were not satisfied even after slaying Dhristadyumna, and he once again used the otherworldly weapon for something unthinkable on someone defenceless. This act was so evil that Ashwathama could never forgive himself. Because of this very inconceivable act, he was cursed by Lord Krishna to walk on Earth for eternity.

Mankind has always craved eternal life, and it is perceived as a boon, but for Amrit, it was a curse. A curse that constantly reminded him of his sins. There is nothing worse than to live forever with the sins of your past as they slowly plague your very soul, bit by bit.

These nightmares had tortured him for thousands of years, and he always woke up with the same unbearable pain.

Ever since the Hunter narrated the story about Rehan's son in the King's custody, Amrit's worries had compounded. The fact that thousands of years later, a power-hungry king was once again hellbent on using the weapons had kept Amrit awake most of the nights. Even if he did fall asleep, the constant nightmares would wake him up again.

He was counting on the Hunter to safeguard the otherworldly weapons.

***

This was just one of the many instances when the misuse of otherworldly weapons caused carnage during the Kurukshetra war, as described in the epic of Mahabharata. The epic narrates this struggle between two groups of cousins, amongst other things, in detail. This conflict led to what is called the Kurukshetra War. It describes the fate of both sides and their successors after the war. The war between the Pandavas and the Kauravas was perhaps the most devastating battle humanity had ever seen. It was the righteous battle between good - Pandavas and evil - Kauravas. It was said to have occurred many millennia ago, causing millions to perish. The Kurukshetra war was not just devastating because of the number of people who died due to the rivalry of the members of the same clan but also because of how they were killed and the corresponding damage afterwards. The damage caused, directly and collaterally, was catastrophic. Not just men but countless animals were also killed during and after the war due to famine, floods, and earthquakes. Large areas of land were rendered barren due to the radiation released by the otherworldly weapons. It was the biggest and the most devastating war mankind had ever seen to this day. It led to mass migration from the areas around ground zero. Nobody in their right mind would ever think of using such weapons again.

The Hunt Continues

It was nearly midnight in Delhi, and the silence at this hour was peaceful. The entire town slept merely, and the chirping of the crickets was the only audible sound inside the majestic Red Fort. The soldiers were manning the fort as usual when suddenly, what sounded like a pistol shot broke the silence of the night and sent the soldiers into a tizzy. Though it was just a pistol shot, it rocked the entire fort and everyone was searching for the source of the sound, helter-skelter.

‘Who was it this time?’ the Bishop asked, rushing out of his bedroom in his night attire.

Prisoners being executed inside the fort was a routine affair, so everyone was quite used to the gunshots during the daytime, but the fact that it happened at night had everyone scrambling to find the source of the noise.

‘Not sure, sir, but the sound came from the tower, it seems,’ the soldier standing guard outside his room stepped forward and replied.

While the soldier returned to his position, the Bishop was left speechless, and he quickly rushed to the tower, expecting the worst.

On the way to the tower, he was joined by the General. ‘Was there any news from the expedition?’ the Bishop enquired.

‘Not that I am aware of. Everything comes through me, and I haven't heard from Ali or anyone else till now,’ the General replied as they both made haste. The Bishop looked worried as he saw several soldiers gathered at the tower's entrance. They were all trying to look inside.

As they entered the tower, they saw the King walking down the staircase, sneering. He had a pistol in his hand. The Bishop and the General bowed as the King left the tower, leaving them speechless. The soldiers, who had gathered hearing the gunshot, quickly moved away, making way for the King. The King walked away with his usual swagger as the Bishop and the General looked wary. They both just looked at the King walking away from the tower helplessly. Too shocked to ask the soldiers anything, the Bishop slowly walked up the winding staircase of the tower, leaving the General downstairs shell-shocked. He walked towards the room on the top floor where Rehan's son was being held. His legs were trembling, and his mind was full of terrible possibilities. As the Bishop reached up top, he noticed a guard carrying a bed sheet stained with blood.

‘Wha…’ the Bishop tried to ask, but the words were stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat. ‘What happened here?’ he asked with a trembling voice, and the Guard pointed towards the open door to Angad's room. The Bishop took a deep breath and pushed the door open with shaking hands and was shocked to see blood on the carpet. ‘What happened here? Why?’

The Bishop was finding it hard to speak. His eyes were moist as he looked at the blood-soaked carpet. The Guard looked around and walked closer to the Bishop.

‘The gun misfired,’ the Guard whispered in the Bishop's ears.

‘Misfired and… killed the kid?’ the Bishop said looking dejected. He was teary-eyed as he had promised Rehan to keep Angad safe.

‘Killed the kid?’ the Guard is taken aback. ‘Oh no, sir.’

‘Then whose blood is that?’ the Bishop asked, wiping his tears. He was relieved that the blood wasn't Angad's.

‘Blood?’ the Guard almost giggled but stopped short as he noticed the glare from the Bishop and continued narrating, ‘That is tomato soup, sir.’

The Bishop looked back, confused.

‘The kid was throwing tantrums since yesterday…’ the Guard paused and looked around. ‘… he has been causing a lot of ruckus off late, sir. He's a spoilt brat,’ the Guard whispered, and the Bishop looked back angrily. The Guard immediately quits mumbling and gets to the point, ‘This evening, he created a scene and demanded to see his father. The Queen learned that a kid was being held hostage, and that aroused her motherly feelings. She forced the King to