MAHABHARAT: Reborn as a younger brother of Krishna with a system

---

The crowd parted like reeds in a storm.

Arjuna walked with no crown, no fanfare—just dusty robes and the gait of a man who did not need to be seen to be known.

Only Agasthya and Krishna recognized the stillness in his steps.

The stillness of someone who had accepted their fate.

Draupadi stood on the dais, her chin lifted, her eyes unreadable.

But when Arjuna reached the platform, and bowed before the great bow—

her breath stopped.

It was him.

The one the fire had whispered of.

The one whose name had not been spoken in her dreams—but whose silence had echoed there.

---

Arjuna knelt before the weapon.

Then rose.

One hand to bow.

One to string.

The court held its breath.

The bow groaned—but did not resist.

It accepted him.

As if it too had been waiting.

In one motion, Arjuna strung it, drew it back, and released a single arrow.

The target shattered—not just pierced, but undone.

The crowd gasped.

Draupadi's eyes widened.

Krishna smiled faintly.

Agasthya…

Closed his eyes.

> The thread has been tied.

---

Draupadi stepped down slowly.

She held the garland in her hands.

She walked across the arena, head high.

And placed it gently around Arjuna's neck.

The arena was silent.

Until it wasn't.

---

"No!"

A prince in red robes leapt from the noble tier.

"Trickery! This is no warrior—it's a Brahmin in disguise!"

Others rose.

"It's a fraud!"

"She is ours by right!"

Swords hissed.

Chairs toppled.

The arena erupted into chaos.

Dozens of kings surged forward.

Towards Arjuna.

Towards Draupadi.

And then—

Agasthya moved.

---

He did not unsheath his sword.

He didn't need to.

He stepped between Arjuna and the oncoming men.

And simply raised his hand.

"Leave," he said softly.

The first prince didn't listen.

He charged.

Agasthya touched his chest with two fingers—

And the man collapsed.

Unconscious. Breath unbroken.

The others froze.

"You won't get past me," Agasthya said.

"I am not here for war. But I remember how to end one."

The air turned heavy.

Krishna rose now.

Voice like a calm tide.

"If you believe your honor lies in blood—let it spill outside these walls."

The kings hesitated.

Then one by one—

they retreated.

Silenced.

Shamed.

Stopped.

By a boy with no crown.

And a man with a bow.

---

In the gallery, Vaidehi leaned forward, hand over her heart.

She had watched Agasthya speak no threat.

Make no display.

But end a battlefield before it began.

She didn't know what it meant to love yet.

But she knew what it meant to long.

And his eyes had found hers again—just once—before turning away.

---

Outside, as Arjuna and Draupadi left through the garden gate, guarded by silent Yudhishthira and Bheema, Agasthya remained behind.

Watching.

Waiting.

Because peace earned without blood still needed protection.

---