NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Fate and Destiny(3)
April 15, 1997 A.D
The camera zooms in on the Indian subcontinent, sweeping over mountains, rivers, and cities before stopping at the heart of New Delhi. Here, in a fortified high-rise of glass and steel, lies the headquarters of the Indian Sentinel Squad. Inside the command centre, the room hums with activity. Rows of monitors line the walls, each showing live feeds of conflicts from around the globe. Soldiers and assistants move briskly, their faces taut with focus. At the centre of it all stands Chief Dharma Pratap, a man whose presence alone commands respect.
He is tall and broad-shouldered, his military yet tactical uniform immaculate, his sharp jawline dusted with stubble. His eyes are piercing yet weary, reflecting a soul burdened with the weight of his duty. A man of honor, code, and wisdom, Dharma Pratap is respected equally by Ascendants and Normies alike.
The camera focuses on him as he watches the monitors. One screen shows Ascendants battling in the skies over Europe, fire clashing against ice. Another shows a devastated city in Africa, where Normie civilians flee the wreckage caused by a Sentinel skirmish. Dharma's expression is grim, his lips pressed into a tight line, but his eyes betray a deep sadness.
A soldier enters the room, saluting sharply before stepping forward with a report. His voice is urgent but steady:
"Chief, we've received intel that the Chinese Sentinel Squad has teamed up with the Pakistani Sentinels. They're engaging our forces at Siachen. Our troops are being pushed back, sir."
Dharma's frown deepens as he turns from the screens to face the soldier. His commanding voice cuts through the tension, firm and resolute:
"Deploy the Garuda Unit at once. Their aerial advantage will give our troops the support they need to hold the line."
The soldier salutes again, barking a quick "Yes, sir!" before rushing out of the room. Dharma turns back to the monitors, his hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders are squared, but the weight of the world seems to press down on them.
An assistant, a young woman with sharp features and a calm demeanour, approaches hesitantly. She speaks softly:
"Chief, what are you thinking?"
For a moment, Dharma doesn't respond. Then, with a sigh, he speaks, his voice heavy with thought but tinged with sorrow.
"My heart aches, Lieutenant. To see our beautiful planet—so full of life, history, and promise—burning like this. Innocents dying in meaningless wars. All this destruction... for what? A few kilometres of land? A fleeting sense of dominance?"
He shakes his head, his hand balling into a fist.
"Humans are capable of such greatness, such ingenuity. And yet, we waste it all in the pursuit of power. If only... if only I had the means to end this madness. To offer a solution that didn't come at the cost of lives. But I don't. I am bound to this cycle, just as everyone else is."
Frustration boils over. Dharma slams his fist onto the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. The assistant flinches but quickly composes herself. Her tablet chimes, drawing her attention. She glances at it before speaking:
"Chief, the Garuda Unit is ready for deployment."
Dharma takes a deep breath, steadying himself. The fire in his eyes returns, his resolve solidifying.
"Then it's time."
The camera follows Dharma as he walks toward a weapons rack. He selects a ceremonial sword—a blade that gleams under the harsh lights of the command centre. Its hilt is engraved with intricate patterns, a testament to its history and significance. He sheathes it at his waist, its weight familiar and puts on a vest.
He places his cap on his head, adjusting it with precision. As he steps into the hangar, the camera pans out to reveal the Garuda Unit—Ascendants equipped with state-of-the-art flight suits and wings of shimmering energy. Each member stands at attention, their faces a mix of determination and reverence as Dharma approaches.
A young Ascendant with glowing blue wings steps forward, saluting.
"Major, the Garuda Unit is at your command."
Dharma nods, his voice steady but filled with authority:
"Today, we defend not just our borders, but the honor of our nation. Remember your training. Work as one. We are not just warriors; we are protectors."
The unit responds in unison, their voices echoing through the hangar:
"Yes, sir!"
Dharma strides toward a VTOL aircraft, its engines humming with power. The Garuda Unit follows, their wings folding neatly behind them as they board. Inside, the atmosphere is tense but focused. Dharma stands at the front, gripping a handle as the VTOL lifts off.
The camera shifts to the skies, where the VTOL rises above the cityscape. The Garuda Unit deploys mid-air, their wings unfurling as they take formation around the craft. The sight is breathtaking—a squad of glowing figures soaring through the clouds, their energy trails painting streaks of light across the sky.
As the VTOL approaches the Siachen Glacier, the camera focuses on Dharma, his face illuminated by the cold light of the high-altitude sun. His jaw is set, his eyes scanning the horizon where the battle rages. The narrator's voice returns, echoing Dharma's unspoken thoughts:
"Amid the chaos, one man stood with hope in his heart and wisdom in his soul. A man willing to sacrifice everything to end the cycle of destruction. But even hope, just like destiny, comes at a cost."
The screen fades to black as the VTOL descends, and the Garuda Unit dives into the fray, their wings blazing against the icy backdrop of the Himalayas.
The screen opens on the frozen wasteland of the Siachen Glacier, its stark white expanse stained with streaks of crimson and black. Ascendants from the three nations clash in a cacophony of power, their abilities reshaping the battlefield with each strike. Snowstorms rage, not from nature, but from the fury of the combatants. Explosions of fire, ice, and electricity light up the frozen landscape as Sentinel Squads of India (ISS), Pakistan (PSS), and China (CSS) battle for dominance. The camera pans across the battlefield, showing the Garuda Unit cutting through the skies, their energy wings trailing brilliant arcs of light. Pakistani Ascendants retaliate with bursts of fire and wind, while Chinese Sentinels weave intricate elemental defences to support their allies. Ascendants on foot engage in brutal hand-to-hand combat, the ground beneath them cracking and splintering under the force of their blows.
A Pakistani Ascendant raises his hands, summoning a massive inferno that erupts toward the Indian forces below.
Pakistani Ascendant: "Let them burn in the fires of Jahannam!"
From the skies, an Indian Garuda swoops down, her wings glowing with icy energy. She counters the flames with a massive gust of wind, extinguishing the inferno.
Indian Garuda Unit Member: "Not today, scum!"
A Chinese Ascendant leaps onto a ridge, her hands glowing with green energy. Vines of jade-like material sprout from the ground, ensnaring two Indian soldiers.
Chinese Sentinel: "You're no match for the power of nature itself!"
An ISS sniper takes aim from a distance, his bullet infused with kinetic energy that pierces the vines and frees his comrades.
Indian Sniper: "Your nature isn't bulletproof!"
The camera cuts to the heart of the battle, where ISS troops struggle against an onslaught of Pakistani and Chinese Ascendants working in tandem. The ground shakes as Pakistani soldiers rain fire, while Chinese Ascendants unleash devastating earthquakes.
The VTOL hovers above the battlefield. Dharma Pratap steps to the edge, his silhouette illuminated by the lights of the VTOL. His sword gleams and his presence commands the attention of both friend and foe. He glances back at the Garuda Unit, giving them a nod.
Dharma: "Hold the line. The glacier is ours, and we will not falter."
Without waiting for a response, Dharma leaps from the VTOL. The camera follows him as he plummets through like a storm, his body glowing faintly with Ascendant energy. Even in the brutal cold, his frame shows no sign of weakness. With a roar, he plunges his sword into the ice below, summoning a surge of lightning that explodes outward in a dazzling display of power.
The winds start howling as dark clouds gather overhead. Bolts of lightning streak through the sky, drawn to Dharma like metal to a magnet. He raises his sword, its blade glowing with electric energy.
Dharma: "To those who desecrate this land... your reckoning has come."