Master Monk:
My deepest apologies to travellers for the trouble caused by my pupils.
The master shoots a sharp, disapproving glance at guards
Master Monk (to the monks):
How dare you disrespect our guests? Have you forgotten our teachings?
Second Monk:
Forgive us, shīfù.
The master monk steps forward, his voice calm and reassuring.
Master Monk:
You all must be tired. There is much you do not know, and much you cannot yet comprehend. But for now, let us tend to your injuries and restore your strength. Please, come inside.
The five monks step forward and gently lift the injured members of the group—Rashi, Harshit, Ashvin, Shivam, and Aditya—carrying them toward the monastery. Ajay and Steve, follow on foot.
Ajay (muttering to Steve):
At least they're polite now.
Steve (calmly):
Suspiciously too...
The group steps into the Yin Shang Monastery, their eyes adjusting to the serene yet awe-inspiring interior. The first sight that greets them is a tranquil garden, lush with greenery and centered around a massive, ancient tree. The branches stretch high into the sky, their golden leaves shimmering in the sunlight. Beneath the tree, a monk sits in deep meditation, surrounded by younger monks seated in a circle around him. The air resonates with the melodic sound of Sanskrit chants, their words carrying wisdom and peace.
Shivam (whispering):
This feels... heavy. Like the air itself is enchanted.
Ashvin (nodding, in awe):
These chants... they're ancient. A combination of Rigvedic and Buddhist mantras, but there's something else.
The group moves through a wide stone path, their footsteps echoing softly. They enter a massive courtyard, its size rivaling that of a stadium. Hundreds of monks practice in synchronized formations, their movements sharp and precise. The rhythmic sounds of footfalls, grunts, and weapon clashes fill the air. The group stops briefly, captivated by the sight. On one side, monks practice with traditional weapons: swords, spears, nunchaku, and staffs. On the other hand, monks wield modern weapons: rifles, handguns, batons, and riot shields. Monks spar in pairs, their movements fluid and deadly. Targets are set up for precision shooting, and monks expertly handle firearms as if they were extensions of their bodies.
Rashi (frowning):
Monks with guns? Isn't that... against their whole peace thing?
Ajay (smirking):
Peace doesn't come cheap these days, Rashi. Even monks need to defend themselves.
Harshit (studying the scene):
Defend themselves? This isn't self-defense; this is military-level training. Look at those formations.
The group is guided through a long hallway that leads into the residential quarters. The monastery's exterior looks ancient, but inside, it's a blend of old-world charm and modern innovation. Wires run through the walls, glowing faintly. Optical fiber cables snake across the ceilings, and several satellite dishes and jamming devices can be seen on nearby rooftops. The group exchanges uneasy glances as they pass rooms filled with monitors and advanced equipment.
Harshit (stopping briefly):
These are state-of-the-art communication systems. Fiber optics, signal jammers, even some experimental tech I've only read about.
Shivam (laughing nervously):
Yeah, because when I think of monks, I totally picture them with jammers and machine guns.
Rashi (muttering):
Something's not right here. This isn't a monastery—it's a fortress.
Steve remains silent, his gaze sharp as he surveys their surroundings.
Steve (thinking):
What are they preparing for?
The group is led to their rooms, simple but clean spaces with a bed, a chair, and a small window overlooking the courtyard. As they settle in, monks come to collect the injured: Rashi, Harshit, Shivam, Ashvin, and especially Aditya, still unconscious with the Sword of Creation clutched tightly in his hand. Ajay gently lays Aditya on a stretcher before stepping back.
Steve (stepping forward):
I'm coming with him.
The senior monk leading them holds up a hand, his tone calm but firm.
Senior Monk:
I understand your concern, but you must stay here. The infirmary is sacred ground, and only the Apothecary may tend to his wounds. Rest assured, he will be cared for.
Steve (frowning):
I've been watching his back for years. I don't trust anyone else to do it.
Senior Monk (bowing slightly):
Your loyalty is commendable, but trust is what we ask of you now. Please, return to your room. The Apothecary will come for you soon to tend to your own injuries.
Steve clenches his fists, his massive frame tense as he watches the monks carry Aditya away. His voice is low but resolute.
Steve:
If anything happens to him, I won't ask questions. I'll take matters into my own hands.
The monk meets Steve's gaze without flinching.
Senior Monk:
Your words are heard and understood.
The camera lingers on the door of the infirmary as it closes behind the monks.
The camera shifts back to the group, seated together in the room. The faint hum of the monastery's energy is a constant backdrop.
Shivam (nervously):
Okay, so... is it just me, or are we in the middle of something way bigger than we signed up for?
Rashi (leaning back):
Way bigger. Monks with advanced tech, martial arts that could put action movies to shame, This isn't your regular monastery retreat.
Ashvin (thinking aloud):
It's not random. Everything we've seen so far—this place, the tech—it's all connected somehow.
Harshit (looking worried):
But what happens now? That monk, the master, seemed to know about Aditya and the sword. What if they... I don't know... expect something from us?
Steve (firmly):
Whatever they expect, it doesn't change what we came here for. Answers. And we'll get them.
Ajay (sighing):
Yeah, well, I hope those answers come with dinner. All this mystery is giving me a headache.
The camera lingers on their tense but determined faces before fading to black.
The screen fades back in to Aditya's POV. The world is blurry, faint murmurs and flickers of candlelight sharpening as his eyes flutter open. The first thing he notices is a group of apothecary monks surrounding him, their heads bowed in deference.
Apothecary Monk (softly):
SIr, are you alright?
Aditya blinks in confusion, his voice hoarse as he speaks.
Aditya:
Where... where am I? What is this place? And my friends—where are they?
As Aditya moves to sit up, he instinctively lifts his left arm, expecting the Sword of Creation to still be in his grip. Instead, his hand is empty. Panic flashes across his face.
Aditya (confused, muttering):
It's... gone?
He tries to piece together his memories, but the flood of information from the sword overwhelms him. His head throbs, and he clutches it in pain, groaning softly. One of the monks steps forward, holding a small vial of red liquid and offering it to Aditya.
Apothecary Monk:
Drink this, Lord. It will ease your pain.
Aditya hesitates for a moment before taking the vial and drinking. A warmth spreads through his body, and the pain recedes, replaced by clarity.
Apothecary Monk:
Jigen sama wishes to meet you and your group in the prayer hall. They are already waiting, mostly healed and eager to see you.
Aditya gets off the bed and stands, expecting pain or weakness, but to his surprise, he feels nothing-no soreness, no fatigue.
Aditya (to himself):
Like... nothing happened.
He catches his reflection in a nearby mirror. His body, once athletic, is now sharply defined, his muscles more prominent and perfectly proportioned. His movements feel effortless. He flexes his bicep experimentally, staring in disbelief.
Aditya (muttering):
This can't be real...
Another monk enters, holding a folded yukata and bowing respectfully.
Apothecary Monk:
Please wear this, Lord. The Master awaits.
Aditya slips on the yukata and is guided by a young monk through the monastery's long hallways.
The camera follows Aditya as he walks through the hall, the walls on either side adorned with murals. The first depicts a man wielding godlike power, but the next murals show the same man enslaved by those powers. One mural shows the man breaking free. Another depicts the world severed in two. The final panels depict a prophecy: a Child, rising from the mortal realm, wielding a sword, and ascending to challenge the god, represented by a shadowy figure towering over stars and galaxies.
Aditya stops briefly, staring at the last panel,
Aditya (to himself):
The Sovereign Child...
The monk gestures for Aditya to enter the prayer hall. The space is vast, illuminated by hundreds of candles. Monks sit neatly in rows, their heads bowed in silent reverence. At the back center of the hall stands a grand golden statue of a four-armed Buddha, radiating an aura of peace and power. In front of the statue sits Jigen Shang, the Master monk, his posture regal yet humble. The Sword of Creation rests on a rack before him, its blade gleaming faintly.
Aditya's group—sit near the front. They turn as Aditya enters, their faces lighting up with relief.
Rashi (smiling):
Aditya! You're alive. And... look weirdly ripped.
Ajay (teasing):
Glad to see you, kid. We were starting to bet on when you'd wake up.
Harshit (excited):
Bhaiya, you okay? What happened?
Steve (calmly):
Take it slow, Aditya. A lot's happened.
Jigen raises a hand, and the hall falls silent. His voice is deep and measured as he speaks.
Jigen Shang:
Our dear guests, we rejoice in your recovery. My sincerest apologies for not formally introducing ourselves sooner. Your health was in critical condition, and immediate care was required. Allow us to rectify that now.
He bows slightly, his tone carrying the weight of authority and respect.
Jigen Shang:
I am Jigen Shang, the thirty-seventh heir of this sacred monastery and... he turns to Aditya, his gaze steady ...a close acquaintance of the Divine Wielder of this sword, your grandfather, Dharma Pratap.
The group collectively gasps, their faces a mix of shock and confusion.
Harshit (wide-eyed):
Wait, what?! My grandfather?
Aditya takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he processes Jigen Shang's words. The weight of the revelation presses down on him, but he controls his emotions, lowering his head in a respectful bow before speaking.
Aditya (calmly):
I am deeply thankful for your hospitality, Master Jigen, and for taking care of my friends and me. But there must be some kind of mistake. My grandfather was... just an ordinary general. He died in a skirmish 20 years ago. How could all of this— he gestures to the sword and the hall —even be possible?
The group looks to Jigen, their faces a mix of confusion and disbelief. Ajay and Rashi exchange uneasy glances, while Steve and Harshit remain silent, their attention fixed on him. Jigen's expression softens, and a faint smile plays on his lips. His voice is calm yet carries a hint of amusement.
Jigen Shang:
If you truly believe your grandfather was just an ordinary general, then it seems his technique was indeed flawless. But reality is far from ordinary. Dharma Pratap was a man whose very existence bent the will of the cosmos.
He gestures toward the sword as he continues, his voice taking on a reverent tone.
Jigen Shang:
Dharma Pratap—a name respected by ascendants and normies alike. The man who fought entire sentinel squads alone, who ended wars with a single call, and whose presence could bring peace to nations.
Rashi (whispering to Ajay):
This sounds like a legend, not a man.
Jigen Shang (continuing):
He was no mere mortal, young one. He was the closest thing this world had to a god—a man who dared to challenge the divine.
Jigen rises slowly, his movements deliberate and dignified. He walks toward a mural depicting two Earths—one bathed in red, glowing with golden auras, and another shrouded in blue,
Jigen Shang:
You see, the Earth you know is not the only Earth. This place, where you now stand, is Alpha Earth, the original Earth—home to ascendants and those blessed with extraordinary gifts. The Earth you come from is Beta Earth, a mirror image of this world, but devoid of ascendant powers.
The group stares at the mural, their expressions filled with shock and confusion.
Harshit (stammering):
Two Earths? You're saying there are two parallel realities?
Jigen Shang (nodding):
Indeed. Dharma Pratap executed Parallel Split—a division of reality itself. One Earth for those with powers, and another for those without. A solution to end the endless war between ascendants and normies.
Jigen's tone grows somber as he recounts the events leading to the split.
Jigen Shang:
Dharma believed that peace was fragile—a glass castle easily shattered by fear and mistrust. Ascendants were feared by normies, and normies resented ascendants for their ignorance. And so, he severed the world. Memories were altered. For people on both Earths, life carried on as if the other world had never existed. Only a select few knew of the split, and even fewer knew how to cross the divide.
Ajay (shaking his head):
This... this is insane. You're telling me Aditya's grandfather just... rewrote reality? And no one remembers?
Jigen Shang:
No mortal should have been able to achieve such a feat, but Dharma Pratap was no ordinary man. But his threat came from the place he least expected.
Jigen Shang:
Dharma knew he couldn't accomplish it alone. He trusted his closest to aid him. Vikram Saha, Suzuki Shinzo, Rowan Blackwood, and Dharma himself. Together, they wielded unmatched power and carried out the Parallel Split.
Jigen Shang (bitterly):
They backstabbed Dharma, forming the Unholy Trinity. They saw the split as an opportunity to rule the world, dividing it among themselves and plunging it into chaos.
Jigen sighs deeply, his voice heavy with sorrow.
Jigen Shang:
After Dharma's death, the Indian Sentinel Squad—ISS—fell from its position of power. Once the greatest sentinel squad in the world, was reduced to a shadow of its former self. Few ascendants remain loyal to Dharma, waiting for his heir to rise.
He glances at Aditya, his gaze filled with both hope and sadness.
Jigen Shang:
Vikram Saha led the charge in ISS's downfall, taking resources and soldiers to form his own faction, the Sentinels of Revolution. He left ISS crippled and vulnerable.
Steve (grimly):
And the other two? Suzuki and Rowan?
Jigen Shang:
Much the same. They command their own forces, spreading chaos and mistrust among the remaining sentinel squads to maintain absolute control over Alpha Earth.
Jigen steps closer to Aditya, his voice softening.
Jigen Shang:
And yet, despite their efforts, Dharma's will persists. You stand here now, Aditya Pratap, because your grandfather left more than a legacy—he left a plan. A plan that begins with you.
Aditya (softly):
A plan... for me?
Jigen Shang:
Yes, young one. And it is time for you to learn what your destiny holds.
The group, seated around, begins to voice their thoughts,
Rashi (direct, crossing her arms):
Wait, wait, wait. Are you seriously telling us that this entire Earth is filled with superpowered people—ascendants—and none of them thought it was a good idea to fix the mess those three caused? What's the point of having all that power if it's just chaos?
Jigen looks at her with a patient smile.
Jigen Shang:
The ascendants are powerful, yes, but they are not united. The Unholy Trinity thrives on division. They ensure no squad grows strong enough to challenge their rule.
Rashi (sarcastic):
Great. Superpowered dictators playing chess with the rest of the world.
Harshit (adjusting his glasses, leaning forward):
Excuse me, Master Jigen, but I still don't understand. How did Dadaji even split a universe? And how is that... sustainable? Wouldn't it cause some kind of collapse in the space-time fabric or something?
Jigen nods, clearly impressed by Harshit's curiosity.
Jigen Shang:
An excellent question. Dharma used the Sword of Creation, a relic capable of reshaping reality itself. By channeling the power of the cosmos through the sword, he severed the threads binding the two realities and wove them into separate existences. The process was not without risk, and the strain on his body was immense.
Ajay (leaning back in his chair, arms crossed):
So let me get this straight. This whole two-worlds situation was supposed to bring peace, but instead, it turned into a power grab for these three jackasses? And now you're telling us Aditya here is supposed to fix it all? Sounds like the old man left him with one hell of a mess.
Jigen sighs, acknowledging him.
Jigen Shang:
Indeed, the plan did not unfold as Dharma intended. But his faith in his heir remains. Aditya is not meant to fix the world alone; he is meant to inspire unity, to bring others to his cause.
Ajay (snorting):
Yeah, because that always works so well. Ever heard of politics?
Shivam (leaning forward, tapping the table):
Hold on a second. You're saying that the Supreme Four—those were his best friends, right? They just turned on him? Why? If they were all so powerful, couldn't they have worked together instead of splitting off like a bunch of spoiled kids?
Jigen Shang(sorrowful):
Power often breeds jealousy and ambition. Vikram, Suzuki, and Rowan saw the split as an opportunity to seize control. They resented Dharma I did warn him on it but he went ahead with it.
Steve (calm but intense):
And what about us? Why were we dragged into this? Aditya's connection makes sense, but why the rest of us? You're asking a lot of normal people to get involved in a war we didn't start.
Jigen turns to Steve, his gaze thoughtful.
Jigen Shang:
You are here because destiny has deemed it so. Each of you plays a role in this story, whether you realize it or not. Aditya may wield the sword, but he cannot succeed without those he trusts by his side.
Ashvin (quietly, flipping through the maps):
One thing doesn't add up for me. If the split was so perfect, how did Aditya and the rest of us even cross over to this Earth? You said travel between the worlds was impossible.
Jigen strokes his chin, his expression contemplative.
Jigen Shang:
You are correct—crossing the divide was believed impossible. But Dharma must have planned for this eventuality. The diary Aditya discovered, the gate in Lonavala... these were no coincidences. They were threads he left behind, leading you here.
Aditya (finally speaking, his voice quiet but firm):
If my grandfather left a plan for me... what exactly am I supposed to do? Fix the world? Fight these three? How am I even supposed to stand up to them?
Jigen walks over to Aditya, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His voice is calm, but it carries the weight of authority.
Jigen Shang:
You are his blood, Aditya. Your journey is not one of mere strength, but of understanding and leadership. The power within you is great, but your true strength lies in your ability to unite those around you. The path ahead will be perilous, but you are not alone.
Aditya looks around at his friends, their faces a mix of determination and uncertainty. He takes a deep breath, his resolve hardening as he meets Jigen's gaze.
Aditya (quietly):
Then I'll do it. Whatever my grandfather started... I'll finish it.
The room remains silent as Jigen Shang steps back to his place in front of the golden Buddha statue. His tone grows grave as he begins to paint a picture of the world's current state.
Jigen Shang:
Before you can move forward, you must understand the world you have stepped into. Three sentinel squads hold absolute power in our world, their influence shaping every corner of this Earth.
He gestures to a map, showing different regions of the globe divided into territories.
Jigen Shang (pointing to South Asia):
In South Asia, Vikram Saha and his Sentinels of Revolution reign supreme. He rules with an iron fist, crushing dissent with ruthless precision. Vikram is a man of unmatched cunning—a master strategist who sees his enemies as obstacles to be obliterated.
The map highlights South Asia, showing territories marked with the emblem. The group exchanges uneasy glances as Jigen continues.
Jigen Shang:
To challenge Vikram is to face relentless force and meticulous planning. He does not take a step back, no matter the cost.
Ajay (grimly):
Sounds like the kind of guy who'd rather burn a forest than let someone hide in it.
Shivam (gritting his teeth):
And we're supposed to take him on?
Jigen Shang:
In North East Asia, Suzuki Shinzo holds most of the power. Known as the Silent Oni, he is the most reasonable of the three, but do not mistake that for weakness.
Jigen's voice lowers slightly, his tone carrying an air of foreboding.
Jigen Shang:
He once killed over 230,000 soldiers without making a sound. There were no screams, no cries—only silence. His methods are precise, and his movements are impossible to predict. To face him is to face death itself, cloaked in stillness.
Ashvin (wide-eyed):
Two hundred and thirty thousand? Without a sound? How is that even possible?
Harshit (shaking his head):
This isn't just power—it's something else. Something terrifying.
Jigen Shang:
In the West, Rowan Blackwood holds the reins of power. Known as the Shadow of the West, he is a ghost in the world of politics and warfare. Few have seen him since Dharma's fall, but his influence is felt everywhere. Among them, Rowan is the most dangerous. Finding him will be no small feat.
Rashi (leaning back, her arms crossed):
So we've got a power-hungry general, a silent samurai, and a ghost pulling the strings of half the world. And you expect us to deal with them? Fantastic.
Jigen continues, pointing to a smaller region on the map marked as the Council of Sentinels.
Jigen Shang:
The Council of Sentinels, once a body of balance and order, is now powerless before these three giants. Every other sentinel squad in the world fears them. No one dares challenge them outright. If they wish, they can destroy the world in a matter of moments.
Jigen Shang (turning to Aditya):
These three must be eliminated to realize Dharma's dream of peace. For that, we must present you, Aditya, as the rightful heir to Dharma and the new leader of the Indian Sentinel Squad. Your presence alone will challenge the balance of power.
The group falls silent, the enormity of the task sinking in. One by one, they begin to voice their thoughts.
Ajay (leaning forward, his voice sharp):
Present him as the leader? To who? The Council of Sentinels? The same council that's scared to even look in these guys' direction? What's that going to accomplish?
Jigen Shang (calmly):
Even the Council cannot ignore Dharma's legacy. Aditya's return will spark a chain of events that no power can stop.
Harshit (skeptical):
Let's say this works, and Aditya becomes the leader of ISS. How do you expect him to fight three people who've basically turned themselves into gods? We're talking about people who kill armies in silence and erase their enemies with a flick of their fingers.
Rashi (cutting in, her voice frustrated):
Exactly! This isn't just dangerous—it's suicidal. You're asking us to throw ourselves into a war with the three most dangerous people on the planet.
Steve (calm but firm):
If Dharma thought this plan was worth risking everything for, there's a reason. We've come this far. I say we see it through.
Shivam (nodding reluctantly):
Yeah, well, just make sure we're not the ones getting wiped.
Ashvin (thoughtfully):
Presenting Aditya is one thing, but what's the long game here? Even if we get the Council on our side, what stops these three from wiping us all out before we even make a move?
The group looks to Aditya, waiting for his response. He takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he meets Jigen's eyes.
Aditya (calmly):
I don't know if I can live up to my grandfather's legacy, but I won't let his sacrifice go to waste. If this is the path I'm meant to walk, then I'll walk it. But I won't do it alone. If this is about unity, then we start with us.
The group exchanges glances, their resolve hardening despite their doubts. Jigen Shang nods approvingly, his voice filled with quiet pride.
Jigen Shang:
Then let us begin the next chapter of your journey, Child.