Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

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Bhuloka...¹

Back in Bhuloka, the echoes of the twin conches had scarcely faded before both armies erupted into motion.

Thousands upon thousands of warriors surged forward with deafening battle cries, their voices rolling across Malikavana like a storm breaking upon the earth.

The allied kingdoms advanced in perfect formation.

The Rakshasa legions answered with savage ferocity.

Within moments, the empty stretch of land separating the two armies vanished beneath an ocean of clashing steel and colliding shields.

Spears pierced through the air, arrows darkened the morning sky, and the thunder of charging elephants mixed with the guttural roars of monstrous Rakshasas.

The second day of the war had begun with even greater intensity than the first.

Yet...

Before the chaos could fully consume the battlefield, Devaratha calmly closed his eyes.

The mark upon his forehead glowed faintly.

"Mask Senses."

The ability of his responded instantly.

An immense wave of Yogic energy spread silently across Malikavana before dissolving into the morning air.

A heartbeat later,

Dense white fog began to emerge from every direction, rolling over the battlefield like a living ocean.

It swallowed forests and armies alike, reducing visibility until warriors could scarcely distinguish friend from foe beyond several yards.

To those fighting within it, the battlefield simply disappeared.

However...

One place remained untouched.

At the very heart of Malikavana, where two kings stood awaiting one another, the fog refused to enter.

It circled around them in a perfect ring, forming a vast clearing hundreds of meters wide.

Beyond its borders, nothing could be seen except walls of shifting white mist and the muffled sounds of countless warriors fighting hidden within it.

The battlefield itself had become an isolated arena.

Only two figures occupied it.

Devaratha...

And Pushpasura.

Their chariots slowly rolled forward until they stood facing one another across the open ground.

The Vajravyaghra Rath stood proudly, its four celestial saber-toothed tigers pawing at the earth, their golden fur gleaming beneath the morning sun.

Divine energy rippled around them, and every low growl that escaped their throats carried the majesty of celestial predators.

Opposite them waited Pushpasura’s chariot.

It was a complete contrast to Devaratha’s.

Instead of divine beasts, grotesque creatures dragged it across the battlefield.

Their bodies appeared as though death itself had failed to claim them.

Much of their flesh had long since rotted away, exposing yellowed bones that protruded through patches of decaying muscle.

Their empty eye sockets burned with eerie crimson flames, while every breath they exhaled carried the stench of decay.

Even the ground beneath their feet seemed to wither wherever they stepped.

Pushpasura rested one hand upon the edge of his chariot before slowly extending the other.

Dark Yogic energy gathered around his palm.

Within seconds...

An enormous black bow materialized from the swirling darkness.

Unlike the grotesque appearance of his axe, this weapon possessed an unsettling elegance.

Its limbs curved like the horns of some ancient beast,

While crimson veins pulsed beneath its obsidian surface as though the weapon itself were alive.

Pushpasura grasped it firmly before looking toward Devaratha.

A cruel smile spread across his face.

"Yesterday..."

He began, his voice echoing across the isolated battlefield,

"our little duel was interrupted before either of us could truly enjoy ourselves."

He slowly drew the bowstring, the weapon letting out a sinister hum.

"I’ve heard countless tales about the King of Trivenivrata from the loser yesterday."

"How no archer among men can rival his skill."

His smile widened.

"So today..."

He raised the bow toward Devaratha.

"I’ll break you where you believe yourself strongest."

"I’ll make certain the greatest archer among humanity is defeated with a bow in his own hands."

The challenge hung in the air between them.

Devaratha listened quietly.

"...."

Then...

He laughed. Not mockingly.

Simply as though Pushpasura had unknowingly made an amusing assumption.

The Rakshasa King’s brow furrowed.

"What?"

Devaratha slowly shook his head.

"You’ve made the same mistake Nishithanetra did."

With a casual motion, he loosened his grip on Rudhirabhra.

The divine axe shimmered briefly before dissolving into bight light that scattered into the air, disappearing completely.

Pushpasura watched in silence.

Then Devaratha raised his now-empty hand toward the heavens.

Golden Yogic energy gathered around his outstretched palm.

The air trembled.

A familiar divine resonance spread across the clearing.

From countless streams of golden light emerged a magnificent bow whose presence alone seemed capable of suppressing evil.

The Pinakodanda.

Its radiant form slowly settled into Devaratha’s grasp as ancient runes along its limbs awakened one after another, bathing the battlefield in a soft golden glow.

His fingers wrapped naturally around the grip.

The divine weapon hummed with unmistakable joy at returning to its master’s hand.

Only then did Devaratha finally answer.

"You believe..."

His calm eyes met Pushpasura’s.

"...that archery is my strongest discipline."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Who told you that?"

Pushpasura’s expression changed slightly.

Devaratha rested the lower end of the Pinakodanda against the floor of the Vajravyaghra Rath.

"I have never claimed the bow to be my greatest mastery."

He slowly drew the string, the sound echoing like the deep vibration of the universe itself.

"I simply use whatever weapon the battle demands."

The smile on his face became almost playful.

"So..."

He raised the glowing bow toward Pushpasura.

"If you intend to defeat me in what you believe is my greatest strength..."

He released a quiet chuckle.

-Chuckle!

"...prepare yourself for disappointment."

Pushpasura’s lips slowly curled into a disdainful sneer.

"So even now..." he said, tightening his grip around the black bow, "...you still intend to play with words."

He slowly drew the string.

The moment it reached full draw, dark Yogic energy erupted from the bow like a torrent.

It spiraled around the arrow in violent circles, each rotation growing larger than the last until the entire projectile disappeared beneath a vortex of deep violet radiance.

The air around the Astra distorted under the immense concentration of power, and the ground beneath Pushpasura’s chariot cracked from the pressure alone.

Without another word...

He released the string.

THWOOOM!

The purple Astra tore through the battlefield, leaving behind a trail that stained the very sky with dark violet light.

At almost the same instant...

Devaratha calmly raised the Pinakodanda.

His fingers drew the divine bowstring in one smooth motion.

Golden Yogic energy immediately answered its master’s call, flowing from every direction before spiraling gracefully around the arrow.

Unlike the violent aura surrounding Pushpasura’s Astra, this energy moved with serene precision, each spiral perfectly controlled until the entire arrow shone like a miniature sun.

Devaratha’s expression never changed.

He simply released the string.

The golden Astra shot forward.

The two divine techniques met exactly halfway between the two kings.

For the briefest instant...

Time itself seemed to stop.

Then...

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

A deafening explosion swallowed the center of the battlefield.

Golden and violet light intertwined violently before erupting outward in every direction.

The resulting shockwave rolled across the open arena like a raging hurricane, sending dust, shattered rocks and broken trees flying hundreds of feet into the air.

Even the dense fog surrounding the battlefield was pushed backward for several moments before slowly rolling back into place.

As the blinding light gradually faded...

Devaratha’s eyes narrowed.

Something wasn’t right.

"...."

Pushpasura’s chariot... Had disappeared.

Not vanished. Moved.

But the speed at which it had done so was so unnatural that even his eyes had followed it only with difficulty.

The grotesque beasts pulling the Rakshasa King’s chariot galloped across the battlefield with impossible acceleration, their skeletal legs becoming little more than blurred shadows.

So extraordinary was their speed that several afterimages of the chariot remained suspended across the battlefield,

Making it appear as though Pushpasura occupied half a dozen different positions at once.

Illusions.

Or rather...

Afterimages born from sheer speed.

Before Devaratha could determine which was real...

Pushpasura laughed loudly.

"-Hahahaha!!!"

"There!"

His voice echoed from somewhere within the moving mirages.

"I’ve got you!"

Another arrow was already upon the string.

Dark Yogic energy gathered around it almost instantly before taking the shape of another devastating Astra.

Without giving Devaratha even a heartbeat to respond...

Pushpasura fired.

The Astra screamed through the air toward the Vajravyaghra Rath.

Its speed surpassed the previous attack.

The distance closed almost instantly.

Pushpasura’s grin widened.

-Grin!

"...."

He could already picture Devaratha being consumed by the explosion.

The Astra reached its target.

Just as it was about to strike...

The Vajravyaghra Rath disappeared.

There was no burst of speed.

No attempt to evade. No visible movement whatsoever.

One instant...

The divine chariot stood before the Astra.

The next...

It simply wasn’t there.

The projectile tore through empty space.

A heartbeat later...

BOOOOOOOM!!

The Astra slammed into the ground where the Vajravyaghra Rath had stood only moments earlier.

The resulting explosion blasted apart the earth, leaving behind a massive crater from which flames and shattered stone erupted high into the air.

Pushpasura’s triumphant smile slowly faded.

"...What?"

His crimson eyes widened.

Several hundred meters away...

A faint ripple distorted the surrounding space.

The Vajravyaghra Rath emerged as though stepping out from another dimension, its four celestial saber-toothed tigers landing gracefully upon the battlefield.

Devaratha stood exactly where he had been before, the Pinakodanda still resting calmly within his hands.

Not even a speck of dust had settled upon his clothing.

He looked toward the enormous crater before calmly returning his gaze to Pushpasura.

Neither king spoke.

They simply stared at one another.

Both had already understood.

Pushpasura’s chariot possessed a terrifying blessing.

It could move with such unnatural speed that it created multiple afterimages, making its true position almost impossible to determine during battle.

The Vajravyaghra Rath...

Possessed an entirely different gift.

It did not rely on speed.

It simply ignored distance itself.

It could teleport.

One chariot defied the limits of motion.

The other defied the concept of space.

For the first time since the battle had begun...

A genuine smile appeared on Pushpasura’s face.

Not one of mockery. Not one of arrogance.

But one born from excitement.

"This..."

he murmured, gripping his bow tighter.

"...is going to be far more entertaining than I expected."

Pushpasura’s grin widened.

Devaratha’s expression, in contrast, remained composed.

Without another exchange of words, both kings drew their bowstrings once again.

Two Astras were released simultaneously.

A streak of violet.

A streak of gold.

They crossed the battlefield in an instant before colliding high above the ground.

BOOOOOOM!!

The explosion had not even faded when another pair of arrows had already left their strings.

Then another. And another.

Within moments, the isolated battlefield was illuminated by an endless succession of divine techniques.

Fire Astras transformed into roaring dragons, only to be intercepted by torrents of celestial water.

Spears of lightning descended from the heavens before being shattered by pillars of blazing flame.

Blades of compressed wind carved through the battlefield while mountains of stone rose to block them, only to be pulverized by explosions that sent fragments raining across the clearing.

Neither king allowed the other even the slightest pause.

Every time one Astra was released...

Another immediately answered it.

The explosions became so frequent that the battlefield resembled a sky filled with countless miniature suns appearing and disappearing every few seconds.

Yet...

Neither had landed a single meaningful hit.

Pushpasura suddenly laughed.

"Let’s see you escape this!"

Three Astras left his bow almost simultaneously, each taking a different trajectory before converging upon Devaratha from separate directions.

Ordinarily...

Avoiding such an attack would have been impossible.

The Vajravyaghra Rath vanished.

The three Astras struck nothing except empty ground.

Three colossal explosions erupted one after another, shaking the earth violently.

Almost before the dust had settled...

Devaratha reappeared behind Pushpasura.

His arrow had already been released.

Pushpasura sensed it through pure instinct.

The grotesque beasts pulling his chariot let out terrifying screeches as they accelerated with impossible speed.

The entire chariot blurred.

Several identical afterimages appeared across the battlefield.

Devaratha’s Astra pierced through one of them...

Only for it to dissolve into nothing.

The real chariot had already appeared hundreds of meters away.

Pushpasura immediately retaliated.

Another Astra. Another teleport.

Another miss.

The rhythm continued.

Again. And again. And again.

Soon, neither warrior remained in one place long enough for the eye to properly follow.

Pushpasura’s chariot raced across the battlefield with such overwhelming speed that dozens of afterimages constantly lingered behind it.

To any ordinary observer, it appeared as though an entire army of identical chariots had begun attacking from every direction at once.

Meanwhile...

The Vajravyaghra Rath ignored movement altogether.

Every time an Astra threatened to reach it, space itself rippled.

The divine chariot would disappear from one location and emerge somewhere entirely different, often behind Pushpasura, sometimes above a nearby ridge, sometimes on the opposite side of the battlefield.

It was impossible to predict.

Even more impossible to corner.

The duel had evolved into something neither army had expected.

It was no longer merely a contest of archery.

Nor was it simply an exchange of increasingly destructive Astras.

It had become something far more extraordinary.

A battle of movement.

A contest between two legendary chariots blessed with completely opposing abilities.

One relied upon speed so absolute that it seemed capable of outrunning the eye itself.

The other transcended speed altogether, traversing space through instantaneous teleportation.

Every Astra launched by Pushpasura was followed by a desperate attempt to anticipate where Devaratha would reappear.

Every arrow released by Devaratha demanded that he determine which among the countless speeding afterimages concealed the true Pushpasura.

The battle slowly transformed into a deadly game of calculation.

Each king searched not merely for an opening...

But for the smallest flaw in the other’s movement.

Who would misjudge the timing first?

Who would predict incorrectly?

Who would finally be caught before they could escape?

That question now mattered more than the Astras themselves.

Beyond the circle of mist, the war between the two armies continued without pause.

Inside it...

Only two kings existed.

Two divine chariots flashed across the battlefield in blurs of gold and crimson, while explosions erupted relentlessly behind them.

The duel was no longer about overpowering the opponent.

It had become a relentless competition to answer a single question.

Which king would catch the other first?

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(Author note:)

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