Meanwhile, on the yacht, the music surged louder.
Laughter rang across the deck, glasses clinked, bodies moved in careless rhythm. The earlier tension had dissolved into celebration—people lost in the illusion that the night was nothing more than a party drifting over open water.
No one noticed when the wind changed.
Far out at sea, where the lights of the yacht faded into darkness, Kapalika stood atop the water.
The waves did not touch her feet.
Her long braid hung down her back, swaying unnaturally, as if stirred by a breath no human could feel. Slowly, she lifted her arms sideways, palms open, fingers curling like claws.
Her lips moved.
The chant was barely a whisper—low, broken syllables that did not belong to any living tongue. The sea beneath her began to respond.
At first, it was subtle.
A tremor beneath the surface.
A shift in the current.
Then the water stirred violently.
Waves rose and collapsed, then rose again—higher this time. The wind sharpened, slicing across the surface of the sea, whipping Kapalika's braid into the air as her voice deepened, steady and relentless.
"Jaag… jaa," she murmured.
"Uth… andhera."
On the yacht, a sudden jolt knocked a few people off balance.
"What was that?" someone laughed nervously.
Another wave struck the side of the vessel—harder.
The deck tilted, just enough for glasses to slide, for laughter to falter. The music crackled, skipping for a second before continuing.
Neil frowned. "Relax," he said loudly. "Probably just rough water."
But the water wasn't rough.
It was rising.
A towering wave surged toward the yacht, slamming into its hull with a deafening crash. Screams erupted as the yacht rocked violently, lights flickering, people clutching railings and each other.
"What's happening?!" "Stop the boat!" "Call the captain!"
Panic spread like fire.
The sea swelled again, darker now, angrier—its surface churning as if something unseen was dragging it upward. The yacht lurched dangerously, tilting to one side, then the other, throwing people to the floor.
On the dance floor, Pranati stumbled, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Arnav instinctively grabbed the nearest railing, his jaw tightening as something inside him stirred—uneasy, familiar, wrong.
Out at sea, Kapalika lowered her arms slowly.
A smile curved her lips.
The storm had been summoned.
And the game… had just turned deadly.
---
The yacht lurched again—harder this time.
A sharp tilt sent people stumbling across the deck, screams tearing through the air as water splashed over the sides. The music died abruptly, replaced by panic and chaos.
Arnav steadied himself, gripping the railing as his eyes scanned the deck.
Too many people.
Too much fear.
Too little time.
"Ranav. Arav." His voice cut through the noise—firm, commanding.
Both brothers turned instantly.
"There's a safe room below deck," Arnav said quickly, already moving toward them. "You need to go. Now."
Ranav frowned, shaking his head. "What about you?"
"I'll manage," Arnav replied without hesitation. "Just go."
Arav grabbed his arm. "No. We're not leaving you here alone."
Arnav's jaw tightened. The yacht rocked again, violently, forcing them all to brace themselves. He lowered his voice, urgency seeping in. "Listen to me. I'm not like everyone else."
Ranav stiffened. "Don't say it."
"I have to," Arnav said quietly. "I'm a Daavansh. Whatever this is—storm, chaos, darkness—it can't touch me the way it can touch you."
Another wave slammed into the yacht, drenching the deck.
Arav looked at Ranav, fear and defiance clashing in his eyes. "That doesn't mean we abandon you."
Arnav stepped closer, gripping both their shoulders. His voice softened, but the resolve didn't waver. "You're my responsibility too. If anything happens to you because you stayed—" He shook his head once. "I won't forgive myself."
Ranav swallowed hard. "You promise you'll come after?"
Arnav met his eyes. "I promise."
For a moment, neither brother moved.
Then Ranav nodded, reluctantly. "Fine. But don't be a hero."
Arav exhaled sharply. "And don't disappear on us again."
They backed away, then turned, forcing their way through the crowd toward the staircase below deck.
Arnav watched until they vanished.
Only then did he turn.
Across the deck, Pranati stood frozen.
The wind whipped her hair across her face, her lehenga clinging to her legs as she stared out at the sea. The water was no longer just rough—it was rising, swelling unnaturally, waves rearing up like walls of darkness.
Her breath came in shallow gasps.
"This… this isn't normal," she whispered to herself.
Another wave crashed against the yacht, sending a shudder through the entire structure. She grabbed a pillar for support, her eyes darting around in disbelief.
The sea looked alive.
Hungry.
Arnav's gaze locked onto her from across the deck.
And for reasons he didn't yet understand, the sight of her standing there—small against the roaring water—terrified him more than the storm itself.
The darkness had come for the yacht.
And neither of them knew yet…
that this moment would change everything.
To be continued…