Rudra Eswar: The Multiversal Odyssey.

The massive hammer descended—

A slab of death falling fast toward Veera's head, ready to crush it like a melon.

Veera squeezed his eyes shut, a pathetic whimper escaping his throat.

"____"

But then—

CLANG!

A shockwave pulsed through the room.

He opened his eyes.

The hammer had stopped—

Just centimetres from his forehead.

And standing before him, calm as a mountain in a storm, was Rudra—

His arm outstretched, one hand gripping the ghost slave's weapon mid-swing.

The floor cracked beneath his feet from the sheer force he absorbed.

The ghost slave's eyes widened, his snarling mouth twisting in disbelief.

"____"

With a guttural roar,

Ahhh! 

The ghost pulled with all his strength, trying to rip the hammer free from Rudra's grasp.

But it didn't move.

Not. Even.

An inch.

Rudra's grip was like iron fused with the earth itself.

Veera, still on his knees, exhaled with relief and scrambled backwards, wide-eyed.

"Okay… okay… I'm never mocking you again…"

Just then, Durai, Ravi, and the reformed Surili burst through the corridor, weapons drawn.

As soon as the ghost slave's gaze fell on Durai, he let out a deep, animalistic growl—

The rage of loyalty and anger burned in his pale eyes.

But Rudra didn't give him a chance.

With surgical precision,

Rudra twisted his wrist—

Disarming the ghost, sending the hammer spinning across the floor.

In one fluid motion, he pulled a small grenade from his pocket, pressed the pin, and shoved it straight into the ghost's open mouth.

The ghost's eyes bulged.

Rudra gave him a hard shove—

Throwing him backwards through the open door.

Beyond that doorway—

More ghost soldiers were spilling in, drawn by the sound of the whistle and the chaos.

BOOM!!!

The explosion rocked the hallway.

The shockwave blew back Veera and fell on his butt.

Dust and shredded uniforms were scattered across the ground.

The ghost slave's form flickered wildly—

Screaming silently, until his shape collapsed into ash.

One by one, the ghost soldiers who arrived began to disintegrate into the air, pulled back into the void.

And just like that—

Silence.

"____"

Only the echo of the blast remained… and Veera's loud breathing.

Ravi walked over and slapped Veera on the back of the head.

"What were you even doing?"

Veera is rubbing his head.

"I—I was managing the signal band… the music… it was a distraction plan…"

Ravi raised an eyebrow.

"Sounded like a wedding."

Surili chuckled dryly, his bruised face still twisted in pain.

Chuckle~ 

"Could've fooled me."

Rudra sheathed his weapon and turned to the others.

"Let's move. This place won't stay quiet for long."

The team returned to the old storage room—

A dimly lit chamber filled with crates of forgotten weapons, covered in dust, some still stained from a war long past.

Rusted at the edges, but lethal nonetheless.

Inside, Satya, Tarun, and Rohit stood guard, eyes alert.

A small lantern flickered beside them, casting long shadows across the crates.

When the door creaked open and Rudra stepped in, everyone exhaled in quiet relief.

Satya nodded.

Nod~ 

"Everything's where it should be. No movement from the ghosts."

Tarun added,

"Whatever happened out there stirred them. They're agitated."

But then something shifted in the room—

Not the lighting, not the wind.

It was when Surili entered.

His body language had changed.

Gone was the stiffness of a man serving two sides.

Instead, he walked slowly, his eyes lingering on Veera.

"Veera…"

He said softly.

The younger man looked up, cautious.

"You're my grandson,"

Surili said, voice thick with years of regret.

"Your mother… was my daughter. My second wife. I didn't mean to leave her behind. If I had known you guys didn't inherit my wealth. I would have written a deed."

Veera stiffened.

"So that makes up for all this? You think I care now?"

Surili sighed.

Sigh~ 

"No. I just wanted you to know. And… I'm sorry."

For a moment, silence filled the room.

But no one interrupted.

Even Durai just watched, arms folded.

Ravi eventually muttered,

"This family tree's cursed…"

Tarun sighed and said with helplessly.

"All the hauntings… they trace back to Jackson's office. Until he's destroyed, the rest won't move on."

Surili, fists clenched, stepped forward.

"Then I'm with you. Fully. No more tricks. I fight with you. For my family."

Durai gave him a sideways glance, then grunted.

"You'd better."

Rudra moved to the nearest crate, pried it open, and inside were standard weapons.

Rudra spoke as he pulled out an AK-47 and loaded it.

"We guessed right. Whatever's holding these ghosts here—Jackson's influence—it's made them tangible. These weapons work."

"Normal weapons,"

Ravi confirmed.

"They bleed. They fall. And they don't get up if you hit hard enough."

One by one, everyone armed up.

Veera took a lightweight revolver and a dagger that he could hide in his boot.

Surili reached for a standard British sabre and slung a rifle over his shoulder.

Rohit went for a pump-action shotgun, checking the shells with a smirk.

Tarun picked up dual pistols and strapped on a shoulder holster.

Satya grabbed a scoped rifle and stood ready near the exit.

Durai picked the heaviest club—

Wrapped in barbed wire—

And slammed it into his palm.

And Rudra, calm and focused, sheathed a machete at his side and loaded his revolver.

Weapons clicked.

Safeties off.

Breaths steady.

Rudra turned toward the map and spoke firmly.

"We hit Jackson next. Once he falls, this whole haunted grip collapses."

Everyone nodded.

Nod~

The team moved like a well-oiled machine, the old corridors of the haunted estate echoing with the sounds of boots, steel, and gunfire.

Their weapons were modern—

AK-47s, shotguns, and pistols.

Every corner brought a new ambush of ghost soldiers—

Each one armed and hostile.

But this time…

They were ready.

At the frontline, Rudra and Satya cleared the way with practised precision.

Bullets tore through spectral bodies, each shot followed by the hissing disintegration of a ghost falling back into nothingness.

Satya's calm focus and Rudra's unrelenting rhythm—

Burst fire, shift, cover, fire again.

Behind them, Durai's rebel ghosts, now joined by Surili, held the rear flank—

Covering for stragglers, watching for ambushes.

Their spectral forms moved with uncanny grace,

And they absorbed attacks meant for the living, protecting them like shields forged from redemption.

In the middle, Durai, Ravi, Tarun, and Rohit advanced steadily—

Less skilled with firearms, but each held a weapon close.

Every step forward was earned in lead and sweat.

They ascended the staircase, clearing each landing, each hallway, room by room.

Ghosts fell before them, the power Jackson once held dwindling with every lost soldier.

Finally, they reached the top floor—

The massive oak doors of Jackson's office swung open.

Jackson's Office...

But the room…

Was empty.

"____"

"____"

"____"

No guards. No sound.

Only the ticking of an ancient clock and papers fluttering by the broken windows.

Before anyone could breathe, three side doors burst open—

Ghost soldiers stormed in, rifles raised.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!

Gunfire erupted.

The rebels reacted instantly—

Throwing themselves in front of the team, shielding them.

Ghostly forms took the bullets—

And vanished.

Sacrificed.

Durai's eyes widened.

"NO!"

From the shadows, Jackson himself appeared, calm and cruel, aiming an old officer's revolver directly at Durai's head.

But before the trigger could be pulled—

DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA!

Rudra opened fire with his AK-47,

Tearing through the ghost ranks.

Bodies fell.

Jackson dodged at the last second, slipping behind a pillar.

"JAACKSOOOON!!!"

Durai charged, screaming.

Jackson turned to meet him, and they collided—

The rifle was knocked from his hand.

Fists flew.

Elbows. Grunts.

 Dust.

The ghost general was strong, enhanced by years of anger.

Then Rudra joined the fight,

Sliding in, shoulder-checking Jackson, grabbing one arm and twisting it back.

Jackson kicked and punched,

But Rudra caught a leg too—

Locking him in place.

"NOW, DURAI!"

Without hesitation, Durai grabbed a spear from a fallen ghost's body, spun it, and drove it straight through Jackson's chest.

The ghost commander's eyes went wide.

His mouth parted—

But no sound came out.

The ghostly energy around him shattered into a cloud of blue light.

Jackson fell.

Lifeless. Forever.

As his body hit the floor, the entire mansion began to tremble.

All around them, ghost soldiers let out final cries as they faded into light—

Disintegrating in peace.

From the ceiling above, dust fell,

And the Union Jack flag began to unravel… dissolving in the wind.

In its place, an Indian flag unfurled—

Waving silently over the estate for the first time.

"____"

Durai, heart heavy, made his way to the top balcony—

Where the breeze met the open skies.

And there…

The ghost of his daughter stood, smiling at him gently.

She was no longer bound by anger or war.

Durai fell to his knees, tears streaking down his worn cheeks.

She stepped forward, touched his forehead softly.

Then she faded—

Her soul is free at last.

Below, in the courtyard, Jackson's wife Amy and his son faded as well—

No longer cursed to haunt these halls.

Only the castle remained, empty now, no longer haunted—

But a monument to resistance.

Surili, standing beside Veera, looked out at the horizon.

"I guess… this is where our paths part."

He said quietly.

Veera didn't speak—

Just nodded, his face unreadable.

Nod~

Surili gave a soft smile.

"Thank you… I switched sides not for Durai or anything but for you."

He turned—

And walked into the mist, disappearing with the morning wind.

Victory was theirs.

But the cost…The memory…

It would echo through the stones of that place forever.

The first rays of the sun spilt across the broken rooftop of the mansion,

Casting golden light over the battlefield that had once been choked in darkness and ghosts.

The air smelled of gunpowder, ashes, and freedom.

Veera, exhausted and quiet, stood near the crumbled balcony,

Watching the sun rise over the hills.

His shirt was torn, his face dusted with soot and relief.

He let out a long sigh and turned to Satya,

Who was checking the last remaining ammo in his rifle?

"Satya,"

Veera muttered, voice half-tired, half-resigned,

"I give up."

Satya looked up.

"I'm done chasing after Viji."

Veera added.

"Let her go to someone who actually has a spine."

Satya smirked but said nothing—

Just patted Veera's shoulder with a teasing shake of the head.

"Finally,"

Satya muttered, thinking he was going to get married.

With the danger gone,

The whole team stepped out of the mansion, its walls still groaning from the damage of the battle.

No one knew how long it would stand… or if it even should.

Better to leave it behind—

As a monument of war and sacrifice.

Outside, a large crowd had gathered—

The villagers, drawn by the sound of gunfire, explosions, and the mysterious battle through the night.

They looked up, eyes wide, murmuring among themselves.

"Is it over?"

"Are the ghosts gone?"

"Did they survive?"

Just as Rudra stepped forward to speak,

Satya raised a hand to stop him.

"____"

He adjusted his collar.

Took out his coolers.

Wiped the lenses clean.

With a smooth slide, he put them on and took one step ahead.

He ran a hand through his hair, adjusted his stance like a movie star, and declared loud enough for the entire village to hear.

"From today onward—no more fear! Jackson's ghost is gone! This land is YOURS again!"

The villagers stared—

Stunned.

"____"

"____"

"____"

Then…

An eruption of cheers.

Drums started beating.

Children screamed in joy.

Viji ran from the crowd and hugged Satya tightly,

Nearly knocked his glasses off.

He froze for a second, then hugged her back, cool but clearly melting inside.

Ravi, Tarun, Veera, and Rohit burst into laughter,

Clapping Satya on the back as they joined the celebration.

Rudra simply watched it all, arms crossed, a quiet smile on his face.

Just then, Isha walked up beside him, hands folded behind her back.

She glanced up at him.

"So… when are you leaving?"

Rudra looked at the sunrise, then back at her.

"Today. Now that the ghost problem's solved, I got an emergency call."

Isha nodded without a word.

Nod~ 

For a moment, it felt like she might leave.

But instead, she turned back to him.

"Your hotel... The Highland Leaf, right?"

Rudra blinked.

"Yeah… in Ooty."

Isha tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips curling up.

"Hmph."

Rudra raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Planning to drop by?"

She didn't answer.

Just turned and walked off.

But she smiled as she walked.

Rudra watched her go—

Confused, amused, and maybe a little curious.

Then he turned to his team.

"Alright,"

He said.

"Pack up. We move out."

With the villagers still celebrating behind them and the rising sun painting the world in orange and gold,

Rudra, Ravi, Tarun, and Rohit began loading up their gear into the dusty black SUV parked near the old banyan tree.

Satya, still basking in the spotlight of the crowd—

And the sudden attention from Viji—

Walked over, grinning widely, sunglasses still on.

Rudra turned, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Hey, Satya,"

He called out, tone casual.

Satya raised a brow.

"What now? Need backup on the next ghost hunt?"

Rudra smirked.

Smirk~ 

"Nah. Just a suggestion."

He leaned a little closer and said, just loud enough for the others to hear.

"You might wanna consider Ooty for your honeymoon."

Tarun and Rohit burst out laughing.

Hahaha~ 

Ravi added,

"Yeah, perfect place for cool weather… and cooler wife slaps if he screws up."

Satya shook his head, rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless.

"Get outta here, man…"

With one final fist bump, the team piled into the SUV.

Rudra started the engine, the tires crunching on gravel as they pulled out—

Leaving behind the now-free village, a waving crowd, and a fading memory of war.

The music faded, and a moment of silence filled the car.

Then—

[DING!]

A quiet chime echoed not through the vehicle—

But in Rudra's mind.

A glowing text appeared before his inner vision, part of the System Interface known only to him.

[✅ Hidden Mission Complete]

[Revenge and Redemption]

[✔ Help Durai get his revenge

✔ Save the village from Jackson's ghost rule

🎖️ Rewards:

+45 Hope Points

Trait Unlocked: Calm Mind – Reduces emotional interference in high-pressure situations.]

Rudra blinked, then looked out at the road ahead, eyes calm.

He didn't say a word about it.

The System was his secret.

"____"

A silent partner.

Always watching.

And now… it had given him peace.

If only for a while.

As the car disappeared over the hill, toward the distant blue mountains of Ooty.

'System, show me my status.'

With his thought, he asked the system for his status.

[DING...]

[STATUS WINDOW]

[Name: Rudra

Race: Human (Reincarnated), (&*^*&^^)

Affiliation: Full-Fledged Brahmansh

Level: 5

Title: Hope's Chosen

Strength: 100 (Peak Human)

Agility: 100 (Peak Human)

Dexterity: 100 (Peak Human)

Stamina: 100 (Peak Human)

Abilities:

Third Eye (Locked), Hope System.

Passive Skill:

Instinctive Combat Awareness 🧠

Adaptive Reflexes 🌀

Enhanced Night Vision 👁️

Basic Chakra Flow (Awakening…) 🌌

[Nature's Son] Lvl-2 🌿 (Passive – boosts sensory perception, environmental adaptability, and animal empathy)

Clam Mind. Lvl-1.

Destined One To Be With Fate

BGM Booster 🎵- 1-CJ-WOOPTY. ,2-BELIVER, 3-???

Dance (MAX) 💃

Divine Body (Locked) ✨

Inventory:

2x Water Bottle

AK 47, 3 Pistol, 5 grenade.

Few Wild Berries (Hammy's Stash) 🐿️

Sanjeevani Leaves ×4(New)

Hope Points: 1,710]

Meanwhile…

Ooty...

Highland Leaf – Restaurant & Inn...

Its warm wooden interiors, calm lighting, and soft music usually offered a sanctuary of peace.

But today…

That peace was shattered.

Inside Room 204,

Mohan Bhargav lay on the bed, his shirt torn, his body bruised, breathing shallow.

A medic knelt beside him, patching a deep gash along his side while another readied a fluid drip.

Standing near the foot of the bed were Shiva and Meena—

Eyes locked on the unconscious form of the man they once knew as untouchable.

They had just returned from a movie when the emergency message arrived.

Now, the seriousness in their faces said it all.

Amirtha, hands clenched, stood near the window.

Her sharp gaze rarely left Mohan's condition.

On the opposite side,

Guru Arvind stood like a stone pillar, arms crossed, his jaw tight.

Beside him, Junoo stood silently, but her eyes gleamed—

Not with fear, but anticipation.

Like she knew something terrible was coming.

Meena finally spoke, voice low.

"They said thirty?"

Shiva nodded.

"At least. Thirty men. Some weren't normal. They used Astra powers. Slaves of Dev."

Amirtha turned from the window.

"He had the Vanar Astra,"(Monkey-based Astra)

She said.

"He fought like a demon. But he was outnumbered. Outplayed."

Guru Arvind added gravely,

"And whoever led them… knew exactly what Mohan was."

Silence fell again, save for the beeping of medical equipment.

Suddenly, Amirtha pulled out her mobile.

Her fingers flew across the screen.

She didn't hesitate.

She called Rudra.

The phone rang.

Once.Twice.

And then—

"Rudra speaking."

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************

(Author's POV)

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