Chapter 1 Tianzun
In the vast and merciless Tianzun Universe, the Asura tribe, one of the four dominant tribes of humans, reigned supreme, their power growing unchecked. This dominance, however, bred fear in the hearts of the other three tribes—the Purva Devas, the Vajras, and the Yakshas.
The fear of addition of new Supreme in Asura tribe has been long bred.
In a desperate bid to annihilate the rising threat of the Asura, they joined forces, launching an unprecedented siege upon the Asura stronghold.
The once-mighty citadel of the Asura tribe was now a battlefield drenched in blood. The clash of steel against steel echoed through the war-torn halls, the agonized cries of warriors piercing the air.
Corpses littered the ground, rivers of crimson pooling at their feet. The scent of death and destruction permeated every corner.
At the heart of the carnage, within the grand yet crumbling hall of the Asura, their supreme leader, Supreme Asura Nakshatra Singh stood, his body soaked in the blood of both friend and foe. His once-proud armor was shattered, deep gashes decorating his flesh, but his fierce crimson eyes burned with an undying resolve.
Around him, the new Supreme Asura of Asura tribe lie down with his bloody body, dead and the last remnants of his warriors fought to their final breath, their roars of defiance shaking the very foundations of the stronghold.
As a mighty Vajra warrior cleaved through one of his trusted generals, Nakshatra let out a laugh—one of agony, one of madness.
"Hahahaha!" His voice boomed like thunder, sending shivers down the spines of his enemies.
A Supreme Purva Deva , bathed in golden radiance, sneered and said "Your reign ends today, Vritra. The Asura tribe shall be no more."
Nakshatra wiped the blood from his lips and smirked and replied "You think you can erase us? You fools have only ensured your own doom."
"I will be back soon! HaHaHa"
A Supreme Yaksha stepped forward, his ethereal body flickering with malevolent energy and said "Enough talk. End him now!"
The remaining Asura warriors, though heavily outnumbered, charged with the fury of demons, cutting down their enemies in a final, desperate onslaught. Limbs were torn, skulls crushed, and the wails of the dying filled the air. Yet, one by one, the Asura warriors fell, their lives offered upon the altar of war.
Nakshatra clenched his fists, his divine essence surging. He knew the battle was lost, but the war was far from over. With his remaining strength, he summoned his elders and the last of his warriors. Their eyes met; unspoken words exchanged in a solemn understanding.
"We shall not die in vain," Nakshatra declared, his voice a final decree and said in loud voice "We will take them all with us!"
The elders began chanting, their ancient tongues weaving an incantation of destruction. The very fabric of the universe trembled as a blinding crimson light engulfed the hall. The air grew heavy, suffocating, as a dark vortex formed above them.
The enemies, sensing impending doom, recoiled in horror. The Purva Deva supreme leader, Devaratha, stepped forward, eyes wide with disbelief,
"No… He dares to—"
But it was too late.
With a final, earth-shattering roar, Nakshatra and his kin detonated their very beings, a cataclysmic explosion consuming everything in its wake. The fortress crumbled, the heavens split apart, and the combined armies of the three tribes were devastated beyond measure. Fire and energy scorched the land, leaving nothing but ruins in its wake.
As the dust settled, only Devaratha remained standing, his once-pristine form battered and broken, his divine foundation permanently damaged. The supreme leaders of the Vajras and Yakshas lay dead, their corpses unrecognizable amidst the wreckage.
Yet, amidst the destruction, a whisper of hope remained.
Moments before their annihilation, the Asura elders had enacted an ancient ritual, sending their offspring to the farthest reaches of the universe. Their bloodline, their vengeance, lay dormant, sealed away until the day their true heir would rise once more.
And when that day came, the Tianzun Universe would once again tremble before the wrath of the Asura.
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And far away, on a small blue planet known to its inhabitants as Earth, the first tremors of change were about to begin.
The destruction of the Asura stronghold sent cosmic ripples through the very fabric of existence. These ripples traveled across countless dimensions, crossing barriers that had stood since the dawn of time. When they reached Earth, they manifested as catastrophic natural phenomena—earthquakes where there were no fault lines, tsunamis under clear skies, auroras visible even at the equator.
Scientists were baffled. Religious leaders proclaimed the end times. Governments struggled to maintain order as panic spread.
But in an ancient land now known as India, these cosmic disturbances took on a more specific meaning. The old temples, many forgotten and overgrown, began to resonate with energy. Stone carvings that had been dormant for millennia started to glow with inner light. Ancient texts, preserved by secretive orders of scholars, suddenly revealed passages that had been invisible before.
And in a modest home on the outskirts of an ancient city, a woman named Meera went into labor just as the sky above split apart, revealing streaks of celestial energy that danced like divine fire.
Dhruv, her husband, had been away when the contractions started. He had been at the local market, gathering supplies for the birth, when the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. Looking up, he saw the impossible—the sky torn asunder, cosmic forces visible to the naked eye.
His first thought was of Meera.
Running through streets filled with panicking people, Dhruv made it home just as the midwives arrived. Meera was already deep in labor, her cries mingling with the strange, unearthly sounds that filled the air outside.
"The child comes at a strange hour," the eldest midwife muttered, her experienced hands guiding Meera through her pain and said "The heavens themselves take notice."
Dhruv held his wife's hand, whispering encouragement as she pushed with all her strength. After hours that seemed like eternity, the cries of a newborn finally pierced the chaos.
"A son," the midwife announced, quickly wrapping the infant in soft cloth.
"Strong and healthy."