Sector-9 was behind them, but its ash remained settled deep within the recesses of Aryan's mind. Outside the car window, the passing skyscrapers were nothing but a blur. The city had returned to its usual rhythm—people, traffic, noise, and lights. It was as if nothing had happened. But Aryan knew this was merely a facade. The world had yet to realize how easily its balance could have been shattered today.
Kabir was driving, but for once, he didn't ask any questions. He knew that some answers are only found when a person is truly ready to face them. Aryan's eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping. His entire focus was turned inward.
The Internal Battlefield
The Void Dantian was no longer as turbulent as before, and that was exactly what bothered Aryan. There was no storm, no surge—just a heavy, stagnant silence. It was the kind of stillness that exerted an invisible, crushing pressure.
> "You're overthinking it," Vedna's voice emerged in his mind—slow and deep.
"I realized something today for the first time," Aryan replied internally. "That having power and being able to handle it… are two completely different things."
> "It's starting to make sense now," Vedna remarked. "Why he just stood there in silence."
Aryan's jaw tightened. "He could have killed me right there."
> "Yes," Vedna said without hesitation. "And that is exactly why he didn't. He wasn't measuring your strength; he was measuring your worth."
The answer cut deeper than a physical blade.
Control vs. Destruction
Aryan clenched his fist. "So what do I have right now? Just raw power?"
> "No," Vedna replied. "You have potential. But right now, it's like a horse without a bridle."
"And that's the most dangerous kind," Aryan muttered.
What happened in Sector-9 wasn't a battle; it was a demonstration. A.K. hadn't shown the world how powerful he was—he had shown that he didn't even need to try to be powerful. That was the real difference.
Roxius — At the Same Moment
Inside the Roxius headquarters, the secret room where only two people ever sat was alive again. Devendra Verma stood by the window. Below him, the city lay spread out—controlled, organized, and obedient. Sahil stood behind him, his face etched with worry.
"Why did you let him go there?" Sahil finally asked.
Devendra didn't reply immediately.
"If A.K. had done something…" Sahil's voice trailed off with a hint of panic.
"If A.K. had done something," Devendra said in a calm but cold tone, "we wouldn't be standing here talking. That entire sector would have been erased from the map by now."
Sahil went silent. He knew Devendra was right.
Devendra turned, a strange depth in his eyes. "You said it yourself—the boy is different."
"Yes," Sahil admitted. "But being different isn't always a good thing. Sometimes, being 'different' is exactly what causes a catastrophe."
A faint glint appeared in Devendra's eyes. "The world doesn't always need 'goodness,' Sahil. It needs stability. And sometimes, for the sake of stability, we must nurture the greatest threat."
"And if the boy himself becomes the instability?"
Devendra spoke without a shred of hesitation— "Then he will be stopped."
Sahil's breath hitched. "By A.K.?"
Devendra remained silent for a moment before speaking, "If necessary… yes."
Back to Aryan
The car came to a stop. Kabir said, "We're in the Safe Zone."
Aryan stepped out. The air was normal. No pressure, no ash. That was the strangest part—how the world remained so oblivious while standing so close to total annihilation.
"Kabir," Aryan said, "if someone told you today that the technology you built could swallow you whole… what would you do?"
Kabir thought for a moment. "I'd make it better. I'd make it safer. I'd put limits on it so it never escapes my control."
Aryan nodded slowly. "That's what I have to do. I have to set limits on myself."
Not Training — Discipline
For the next few hours, Aryan did nothing. No fighting, no physical exercise, no display of power. He simply sat in a quiet corner.
He counted his breaths. He felt every minor stir of the Void. He forcibly suppressed every moment the energy tried to leak out. It wasn't easy. Every second felt like he was sitting on the rim of a smoldering volcano.
> "You are imprisoning yourself," Vedna said.
"Yes," Aryan replied. "Because if I can't control myself… someone else will stop me forever. And I'm not ready to stop yet."
The Inner Boundary
After hours of mental struggle, the Void Dantian began to shift its nature. The energy was no longer splashing wildly; it began to settle into layers.
> "Interesting," Vedna commented. "You aren't suppressing it anymore… you are shaping it. You are making it a part of your will."
Aryan's eyes snapped open. They no longer held that fierce, erratic purple glow; instead, they possessed a steady, deep brilliance. "That's the difference. It's a part of me now, not a burden I carry."
Somewhere Else — A Shadow
At that same moment, in another part of the world—inside an S-Rank dungeon—the air was trembling. The monsters there weren't afraid; they were simply ceasing to exist. No warning, no struggle. In an instant, everything was over.
An old, heavy sword rested against the ground. A.K. stood there, his eyes closed.
"He is alive," he said to himself in a very low voice.
A long silence followed.
"For now."
End of Chapter
Aryan stood up. He felt it for the first time—the Void wasn't his external weapon; it was his responsibility. He understood now that balance isn't something you ask for; it's something you hold steady with your own strength.