NARAK: The Blood Covenant

The temple shook.

Dust rained from the ceiling as ancient mechanisms groaned awake.

The Gate began to open slowly, inevitable, like an eye forced open after centuries of sleep.

And in the center of it all, Chaos smiled.

Her shadow spread like spilled ink, warping space and crushing time around her.

Reality bled at the edges.

Nayla gritted her teeth.

Putri held her ground, tiger spirit growling low.

And then—

"Avici Narak."

Vicki's voice—clear, steady—called out from within his own possessed body.

"You have my permission. Burn everything that she is."

Avici's grin widened.

"With pleasure."

His body ignited not with ordinary fire, but mirror fire.

Black and silver flame that shimmered like oil on water, dancing in impossible patterns.

He lifted his right hand, and the air fractured.

A burning glyph hovered in his palm.

He chanted:

"Agni Vidya Rakshasa"

"Burning flame, ignite this name—The Unbound—in the void that become my weapon."

The glyph responded, flaring, and a whip of fire lashed out, striking Chaos across the shoulder.

She screamed, not in pain, but shock.

Her illusion of perfection rippled.

Part of her cheek fractured like porcelain—revealing a sliver of what lay beneath.

"You—" she hissed. "That fire should not exist."

"Yeah, well, neither should you," Avici replied, stepping forward.

"Let's make this poetic."

He spun, his fire forming twin chakrams—burning with memory and reflection. Each time they sliced through the air, ghostly voices echoed from them.

"That's..." Nayla's eyes widened. "Those flames are speaking."

"They're remembering," Putri said.

Chaos lunged, forming blades of twisted time shards of forgotten futures.

Avici clashed with her, steel and flame, reflection and entropy.

The battlefield itself bent, mirrors breaking midair, fire clashing with spirals of shadow.

Every step wrote new glyphs in the air, a dance of language and destruction.

Avici snarled:

"This fire is not for burning the WORLD, but to rewrite what have been stolen."

"You think you can burn me?" Chaos spat, forming a cyclone of black hair and screaming mouths.

"I am the erasure between chapters."

Avici leapt through it, catching fire midair.

And punched her across the jaw.

She crashed into a wall, stunned, smoke rising from her shoulder, her mask of beauty now visibly cracked.

"You're not used to pain, are you?" Avici said.

"Let me help you adjust."

He raised both hands and chanted:

"Narak is the name of destruction, shadow becomes your limit, fire becomes my vein. BURN, ENDLESSLY."

The glyphs on his body flared white-hot.

Fire rained upward—defying gravity—wrapping Chaos in a mirrored inferno.

She screamed again, this time, in rage.

But then, she smiled.

"You hurt me. Good."

Her voice split. Doubled.

Echoed with other voices. Too many.

"Now I don't have to hold back either."

She lifted both arms.

And from the air—dozens of her reflections appeared.

Not clones. Not illusions.

Each one was a Chaos from a different narrative thread.

Different versions. All screaming in unison.

"Let's see if you can burn what has already forgotten, fire."

The temple had become a battlefield of dimensions.

On one side, Vicki, fully synchronized with Avici, flame and memory spiraling as one.

He clashed with The Chaos herself, whose form flickered between timelines, her smile sharper than steel.

On the other side, Raka, body pulsing with Arkana's will, faced an army of narrative reflections, each one a twisted version of Chaos from realities that never should've existed.

In the center chamber, protected by runes and starlight mist, Nayla and Daramahesa scrambled to decode The Archive mid-battle…

While Putri's celestial tiger prowled the perimeter, eyes glowing like twin moons.

Avici twisted Vicki's hands into a defensive sigil, fire spiraling around his arms, clashing with Chaos's entropy blades.

"You dance well, flame boy," Chaos sneered, flipping mid-air."But your fire is borrowed."

"Borrowed?" Avici smirked.

"Girl, I invented the burn."

He spun, igniting a mirror trap around him.

"Shadow shatter, mirror colapse, show me who you really are before you forgotten!"

Her reflection shattered, temporarily disorienting her.

But she emerged from the smoke, still bleeding flame, but laughing.

"Pain makes me real.

Raka dashed through shards of unstable time, Arkana guiding his every motion.

Each Chaos clone came with its own attack pattern, some slithered, some floated, some chanted ancient riddles in forgotten dialects.

"Raka. Don't stop. Channel the glyphs now."

"Which glyphs?!"

"The ones I taught you last week."

"YOU MEAN THE ONES IN LATIN?!"

Arkana calmly raised Raka's hand, forced him into position, and began chanting:

"Glacies perpetua, veritas invicta,Congela ficta, in nomen fixum."

A surge of frost erupted from Raka's palm, piercing through five Chaos clones at once.

Meanwhile, from across the battlefield,

"Ugh, Latin?" Avici scoffed mid-dodge.

"Arkana, I knew you were dramatic, but not dead language dramatic."

"Language of the old flamekeepers. You'd know if you ever studied."

"Oh sorry, I was too busy fighting real wars while you were quoting scrolls."

Back in the sealed Archive nook, Nayla's hands flew over glowing glyph panels, desperately searching for anything to help rewrite Chaos' presence.

"We need an origin key. Something to lock her back into pre-narrative state."

"You know, you could ask nicely, I was Anata Dharma, once upon a nine lives ago—"

"Not now, Anata."

"Just saying, you look cute when you panic."

"I SWEAR TO GOD—"

She slammed a crystal prism into the glyph wall, sparking blue flame.

"SHUT UP A MOMENT, ANATA!!"

Even the Archive paused.

Daramahesa blinked, then chuckled.

"Ah. There it is. I've missed this version of you."

"The stressed one?!"

"No. The real one."

She exhaled sharply, adjusting her Archive bracer.

"Ugh. I'm going to rip out your fur later."

"We both know you won't."

Just outside their chamber, Putri's white tiger roared—striking down a ripple of entropy creeping toward the Archive.

"He's protecting us from things I can't even see," Nayla muttered.

"He's royalty," Daramahesa added.

"Spiritual bloodline. Possibly cursed. Definitely hot-headed."

"Sounds like someone I know."

"If you're flirting with me, I approve. But timing, Nayla."

She threw a parchment at his head.

Chaos landed hard, left side of her face blackened from Avici's searing counter.

Her clones were melting under Arkana's frost.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she hissed.

"You weren't meant to remember this much."

Avici narrowed Vicki's eyes.

"Then you underestimated a vessel with something you never had."

"And what's that?"

He snapped his fingers, flames spiraling into the form of a name—Narak.

"Permission."

Everything was falling apart.

The temple walls split open, revealing endless echoes of Chaos—Her screams rang through every mirror, glyph, and memory they carried.

And still—she laughed.

Avici's fire burned, Arkana's ice shattered timeline threads, Putri's tiger roared into the fray, and Nayla's Archive bled pages as she decoded the impossible.

"WE'RE NOT ENOUGH!" Nayla cried, eyes scanning line after line of unraveling lore."Her core... it's not her reflection. It's the lack of balance—the devouring void."

Daramahesa narrowed his glowing violet eyes.

"Then the answer is equilibrium... not fire. Not frost."

"Not rage," Arkana added in the mind realm.

"But stillness. Nirvana."

Nayla turned to him, face pale.

"You're the only one who can do it, Arkana."

"I know."

The battlefield froze, as Arkana raised Raka's hand, forming the ancient glyph of Zenith Equinox, the final seal of Nirvana.

He began to chant:

"Cesset fluctus. Silente motus.In aeternum... pax."

The air grew silent.

Chaos screamed, not in rage this time, but fear.

Her body cracked further. The walls around her began to fold inward.

"YOU DON'T GET TO ERASE ME!"

And then—

Everything.

Stopped.

The floor ruptured.

The sky opened.

And a new voice cut through existence like a blade through prayer.

"No need to erase you."

A man stepped into the temple, through space itself.

Cloaked in gray-black robes that shimmered like broken reality.

Eyes like dying stars.

In his hand—the balance of nothingness.

The Nameless Balance.

Arana Shadripus Moha had arrived.

"You've outlived your purpose," he said to Chaos.

She recoiled, her form unstable, panicked.

"W-Who—?"

"The one you should've watched for."

He raised his hand.

No chant. No flourish.

Just balance.

A perfect silence.

A pressure so pure it tore Chaos apart before she could scream again.

One motion.One flick.

She vanished.

Not burned. Not sealed.

Not rewritten. Unmade.

The temple itself shuddered in silence.

Everyone is frozen.

Nayla's mouth opened, but no words came.

Raka collapsed to one knee, Arkana stunned into silence.

Putri held her tiger close, instinctively backing away.

Only two didn't speak from shock.

Avici and Daramahesa.

Avici's flames receded, expression unreadable.

Daramahesa's ears flattened, tail low.

"...You said he was dead," Nayla whispered.

"He was," Daramahesa murmured.

"No," Avici growled.

"He just left."

Vicki—still caught in the fire's afterglow—stared at the man.

His hands trembled.

"...Dad?"

Arana turned. And for the first time, Vicki saw the full weight of him.

"Hello, Vicki."

His voice wasn't cold.

It wasn't angry.

It was... tired. Patient.

"You've grown well."

"You're supposed to be—"

"I know."

Arana looked around. The shattered temple.

The broken glyphs. The wounded tiger spirit.

His son.

Then, softly:

"I didn't want you to see me like this."

Vicki took a step forward.

"Why... Why did you leave?"

"Because balance demands sacrifice."

Avici whispered in the mind realm:

"He's not lying. But he's not telling the whole truth either."

Daramahesa's voice was tight.

"He wasn't supposed to show up yet."

Arana turned away.

And smiled, gently.

"This war is no longer yours, my son. It's mine."

He stepped toward the open Gate.

And vanished into the void beyond it.

Silence.

Everyone remained frozen.

And then, A whisper.

Not from Arana.

Not from Chaos.

But from the Gate itself.

"The balance is broken. The name has returned.And the price has not yet been paid."