Andy stood outside Siya's door for several long moments.
His hand hovered near the handle, but hesitation held him back. The corridor was silent, heavy with unspoken emotions. He did not know whether he deserved to walk inside.
Before he could decide, Siya's calm voice came from within.
"Come in, Andy. Why are you hesitating?"
He froze for a second, then pushed the door open. Siya was seated near the window, her expression composed, unreadable. There was no anger on her face now—only stillness.
"I'm starting my penance," Andy said quietly. "I will complete the punishment you gave me."
Siya nodded once.
Andy suddenly dropped to his knees.
"I'm not asking you to reduce my punishment. If I've made a mistake, I will suffer for it. But… please don't stay angry with me. Don't stop talking to me. I won't be able to bear that."
His voice trembled. Tears welled in his eyes.
For a brief moment, Siya's calm facade softened. She rose and helped him stand.
"How long do you think I can stay angry with you?" she said gently. "This is for your own good, Andy. You don't yet understand how dangerous emotional instability can become. Your safety is as important to me as the fate of this world. Acting on impulse can destroy more than just one life."
Then, in a rare gesture, she pulled him into an embrace.
Andy closed his eyes. The burden in his heart dissolved.
As he turned to leave, Siya stopped him.
"Remove the bracelet."
Andy instinctively looked at the metallic band around his wrist. "But you gave me this. It protects me. It stays with me always."
Siya's voice turned instructive, yet warm. "That bracelet absorbs a fraction of your energy every day. In battle, it releases it to shield you. If you wear it during deep meditation, it will keep draining you. Your energy won't accumulate. Your body might collapse—or your meditation could break."
Understanding dawned in his eyes.
He removed it and placed it in her hand.
"When I awaken," he said softly, "I will wear it again—from your hands."
A faint smile curved Siya's lips.
After he left, she looked at the bracelet resting in her palm.
"Your going doesn't feel right to me either, Andy," she whispered. "Perhaps I was too harsh this time. Forgive me."
Clara and Andy entered deep meditation.
Now only Ali, Maan, Siya—and George—remained active within the base.
Siya's thoughts were elsewhere.
If she wanted the truth about George, she would have to risk herself. She would have to let him believe she was playing by his desires.
She began walking toward George's room.
And then—
"Sister."
The voice struck her like lightning.
She turned sharply.
"Maan?"
He stood there. Alive. Whole. His eyes clear.
Before she could react, he ran to her and embraced her tightly.
In that instant, it felt as if breath returned to Siya's body.
"I will remain indebted to you my whole life," Maan said, his voice shaking. "You saved me. What I endured… it was worse than death. Every day felt like screams echoing inside my skull. I thought it was the end."
Siya held him close.
"I told you," she whispered. "As long as I exist, nothing will happen to you. You are my responsibility. My little brother."
Ali arrived, relief flooding his face. He hugged Maan as well.
"You frightened us," Ali laughed softly. "You're awake now. Back in your real life."
Maan grinned faintly. "Did Sister get scared too?"
Ali replied warmly, "Her world lives inside you. Of course she did."
But Siya knew something was different.
She placed her hand gently on Maan's head and closed her eyes.
Her consciousness slipped inward—into his inner realm.
What she saw stunned her.
An endless field of radiant light.
And at the center of it—a colossal source of supreme energy. A Mahā-Urja reservoir.
Her breath caught.
Such divine magnitude of power… and not in her alone.
She looked deeper.
All his chakras were already awakened—except one.
The final one.
Sahasrara.
The crown.
But if he possessed such extraordinary energy, how had a minor dark force controlled him?
She withdrew.
"Maan," she said carefully, "tell me about your nightmare."
He swallowed.
"In my dream… stones were being thrown at me from everywhere. Birds screaming. Their cries pierced my ears like blades. Then I saw a small child playing. He saw fruit on a tree. He picked up a stone to knock it down. But the stone hit a bird instead. It died."
He paused.
"I think… that child was me."
Understanding dawned in Siya's eyes.
A karmic fracture.
A single unintended sin, echoing across lifetimes.
Cast into mortal existence. Forced to endure suffering. Crown chakra sealed.
"The final chakra must awaken," she said. "That is your liberation."
She turned to Ali. "Help him."
Ali nodded.
As Maan left, Ali asked quietly, "What are you thinking?"
Siya's gaze hardened.
"I must follow his path. I must obey what he wants—if I want the truth."
"You trust him?" Ali asked cautiously.
"He cannot harm me," she replied calmly. "That much I know."
Ali did not argue further.
Siya approached George's chamber.
Inside, he sat in deep meditation. Motionless. Silent.
She stepped in.
Her voice echoed through the room.
"What blessing does a dark force seek… that it sits in such intense meditation?"
His eyes opened slowly.
"So you've come," he said, a smirk forming. "Strange. On one side, you dislike even my touch. On the other, you keep coming back to me."
His gaze sharpened.
"Is this for answers? Or are you two different people—one for the world, and one for me?"
Siya smiled faintly.
"What do you think?"
Something shifted inside him. A flicker of obsession surfaced.
He was drawn to her defiance. To her calm.
He leaned forward.
But before he could speak, she said quietly:
"You know what I want to know. And I know you will tell me."
His laughter echoed across the chamber.
"You're right."
A pause.
"I am not George."
The air thickened.
Siya had anticipated this—but anticipation did not ease the tension coiling inside her.
"Then who are you?" she demanded. "And where is George?"
He stood.
His voice deepened, resonating unnaturally.
"Today, I will tell you only this…"
"I am Trikaalayagya."
The word vibrated against the walls.
The Knower of Three Times.
Past. Present. Future.
He stepped closer and placed a rosary—an ancient mala—into her hand.
"With this," he said softly, "you will see who I am… and who I was."
Siya stared at the beads.
Was this revelation?
Or a trap?
Was the truth hidden inside it—
Or was it a doorway designed to consume her?
As her fingers tightened around the mala, she felt something stir beneath its surface.
Power.
Memory.
And danger.
The secret of the false George was finally within reach.
But some truths do not reveal themselves without demanding a price.
And Siya had just agreed to pay it.