The house was already awake when he came downstairs.

  Morning light filtered through tall windows, stretching across polished marble floors. Staff moved quietly between the kitchen and dining area. The long table was already set.

  His father sat at the head of it, tablet in hand, reading through market updates as if the world could not possibly end before noon. His mother stirred tea with controlled elegance.

  They both looked up when he entered.

  "Morning," his father said.

  "Good morning," his mother added, watching him a little too closely.

  He nodded once and took his seat. A plate was placed before him. He began eating immediately. Efficient. Clean movements. No wasted motion.

  "You have practice today?" his father asked without looking up.

  "Yes."

  "Archery?"

  "Yes."

  His mother's gaze lingered. "You were outside yesterday."

  "Yes."

  "In direct sunlight."

  "Yes."

  A pause. "You should use more sunscreen."

  "It doesn't help."

  His father chuckled lightly. "Your mother worries."

  "I don't," she replied instantly.

  Silence returned. Porcelain. Cutlery. The quiet hum of climate control.

  "Driver's waiting," his father said.

  He stood, adjusting his blazer. The uniform fit him perfectly.

  As he stepped toward the door, his father called out, "Karna."

  He paused.

  "Yes?"

  "Make us proud."

  "I will."

  The door closed behind him.

  Two seconds passed.

  "What do you mean he's pale?!"

  "I am just saying—"

  "Are you accusing me?!"

  "I did not say anything!"

  "You implied it!"

  "He's pale!"

  "I am ordering a DNA test!"

  "Don't even think about it!"

  Upstairs, a bedroom door creaked open.

  A smaller voice, groggy and deeply unimpressed, drifted down the hallway.

  "…Again?"

  Karna stared ahead through the tinted glass as the car pulled away. He had heard every word.

  He did not react.

  This happened every few months.

  The car moved smoothly through South Mumbai's morning traffic, insulated glass muting the noise of honking scooters and impatient taxis. The Arabian Sea flashed intermittently between buildings as the road curved along Marine Drive, sunlight scattering across the water in sharp white fragments.

  Karna sat in the back seat, posture straight, hands resting loosely on his knees. He did not scroll his phone. He did not look distracted. He watched the coastline.

  A massive digital billboard ahead flickered to life.

  SEA GAMES 2026

  Hosted Offshore – Western Coast

  Brought to you by Blackmore Holding

  Below it, sleek promotional footage rolled. Slow-motion dives. Open water marathons. Drone shots of floating platforms anchored miles out at sea. Athletes silhouetted against sunsets. Commentary about "international aquatic excellence" and "cutting-edge maritime engineering."

  To normal eyes, it was just another high-budget global sports event.

  To those who knew, the offshore coordinates were not chosen for aesthetics.

  The arenas were positioned over a high-density ley convergence line running beneath the Arabian Sea. Stable enough for containment. Deep enough for Leviathans and far enough from shore to absorb accidents.

  The driver adjusted lanes smoothly. "They've increased security near the coast," he mentioned casually. "Temporary maritime restrictions."

  Karna's eyes remained on the water. "Expected."

  "Are you participating?" the driver asked.

  "In archery."

  The human events, not the other one, he added silently.

  The driver nodded approvingly. "Good. Discipline. Focus. Proper sport."

  Karna did not respond.

  Outside, the Arabian Sea shimmered under the rising sun, deceptively calm. Offshore, far beyond the visible line of cargo ships and fishing boats, construction vessels floated in precise formation. From this distance, they looked ordinary.

  They were not.

  Another billboard rolled past.

  SEA GAMES 2026

  Global Aquatic Excellence

  Brought to you by Blackmore Holding

  A slow-motion diver cut through impossibly clear water. Clean. Elegant. Marketable.

  No mention of dragon class heats.

  Deity manifestation scoring.

  Containment fields lie beneath the ocean's surface. Just sport.

  The car turned inland, leaving the coastline behind. The sea vanished behind concrete, glass towers, and morning commuters.

  Karna rested his elbow lightly against the window.

  Archery was simpler.

  A bow. A target. A line.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  No politics. No rumors. No glowing skin debates over breakfast.

  Just aim.

  The car slowed as it approached the school gates. Students flowed through the entrance in small clusters, uniforms crisp, energy uneven and loud.

  The driver stepped out immediately and opened the rear door.

  "Good luck," he said.

  Karna stepped onto the pavement. "Thanks."

  He adjusted his blazer once, then walked toward the building.

  Behind him, far beyond sight, the ocean held its breath.

  Located in South Mumbai, not far from the coastline, the academy grounds stretched wide and deliberate, designed to look prestigious without appearing excessive. Old colonial architecture blended with modern glass extensions, and stone arches framed new steel walkways. Banyan trees stretched over the courtyard, roots thick and ancient against polished marble benches.

  This was not just a private school.

  It was a legacy institution.

  Industrial heirs. Political families. Celebrity children. Foreign diplomats' sons and daughters.

  And five reincarnated heroes of the Mahabharata pretending to care about attendance.

  Morning humidity clung lightly to the air, softened by the nearby sea breeze. Beyond the outer walls, traffic roared. Inside, everything was measured.

  Students moved through the courtyard in clusters. Some rehearsing debate arguments. Some are scrolling through phones. Some whispering about Sea Games rumours they weren't supposed to know.

  A massive digital board near the entrance cycled through routine announcements.

  Midterm Assessments – Week 3

  Archery CCA – Early Morning Practice

  Debate Club Nationals Qualifier

  Inter School Athletics Trials

  Logos of corporate sponsors rotated neatly along the bottom.

  One of them was Blackmore Holding.

  To most students, it was just another multinational name stamped onto banners and brochures. A company that sponsored everything from science fairs to stadium renovations.

  No one questioned it.

  No one connected it to the offshore construction barely visible past the coastline.

  No one wondered why maritime restrictions had quietly expanded that week.

  The school simply called it "increased coastal development."

  Students called it "traffic."

  Only a handful of beings in the city knew it was something else entirely.

  Karna entered the main building. Cool air replaced the heat instantly. Polished floors reflected sunlight from tall windows. Trophy cases lined the walls. Decades of achievement on display.

  He passed the archery display without slowing.

  Then he reached the classroom.

  He slid the door open.

  Empty.

  Except for two figures already seated.

  Rohan and Lizado, carrying the unsettling stillness they always did.

  Rohan sat in his usual seat, back straight, hands resting flat on the desk as if waiting for instructions from a universe that had not yet spoken. His uniform was immaculate. Tie centered exactly. Shoes polished to an almost unreasonable shine. He was staring forward.

  Not blank.

  Focused.

  He did not blink.

  He did not turn when the door slid open.

  "Good morning, Karna," he said calmly, without shifting his gaze.

  Karna stepped inside. "Morning."

  Next to him sat Lizado.

  Blink.

  Blink blink blink blink blink.

  His head rotated toward Karna just slightly too smoothly, stopping a fraction past where a normal human neck should comfortably bend. His posture snapped upright in a single clean motion.

  Then he stopped blinking entirely.

  "Good morning," Lizado echoed, smiling with excessive sincerity.

  Karna walked to his desk and set his bag down. "You're early."

  "You are earlier," Rohan replied.

  "Five minutes and twelve seconds," Lizado added helpfully.

  Rohan continued, "You adjusted your arrival time."

  "Because of the challenge."

  "Yes."

  Lizado leaned forward slightly. "We calculated a sixty three percent probability you would accept."

  Karna looked at him.

  "You calculated."

  Rohan corrected without turning his head. "He calculated. I confirmed."

  Lizado blinked rapidly again.

  Silence settled back into the room.

  Not awkward.

  Not tense.

  Just still.

  The air felt steady around them, as if nothing in the world could possibly be urgent inside this space.

  Karna reached down and lifted his archery case. He had no intention of wasting warm up time on conversation.

  "I'll be at the range."

  "Of course," Rohan replied immediately.

  "Try not to damage school property," Lizado added with genuine concern.

  Karna paused at the doorway.

  "I never do."

  Rohan blinked once.

  "Statistically inaccurate."

  Karna did not respond.

  He stepped into the corridor.

  Behind him, the classroom fell silent. Rohan resumed staring forward. Lizado mirrored him.

  Both of them.

  Not blinking.

  For a full minute.

  Then Lizado whispered, very quietly, "Boss."

  "Yes."

  "Are we socially functioning correctly?"

  "Yes."

  Pause.

  "…Good."

  They returned to staring.

  The classroom door slid shut behind Karna with a soft click.

  Silence reclaimed the room instantly.

  Rohan remained seated exactly as before, spine straight, hands resting flat on the desk, gaze fixed forward as if the wall ahead contained instructions only he could read.

  Lizado mirrored him.

  Not intentionally.

  Just… habit.

  Blink.

  Blink blink blink blink.

  Then nothing.

  Five full seconds passed.

  Then ten.

  Then—

  "Boss," Lizado whispered without moving his head.

  "Yes."

  Pause.

  "Was the tone appropriate?"

  "Yes."

  Another pause.

  "…Did he suspect anything?"

  "No."

  Lizado relaxed by approximately two percent.

  Outside, footsteps passed in the hallway. Distant chatter. Lockers closing. The school is slowly filling with noise and life.

  Inside, nothing moved.

  Rohan's eyes remained forward.

  He did not blink.

  Lizado timed it internally.

  One minute.

  Two minutes.

  Three.

  At four minutes and thirty seconds, Lizado felt competitive.

  He stopped blinking, too.

  The classroom clock ticked.

  Five minutes.

  Neither moved.

  The door slid open.

  A junior student froze in the doorway.

  Rohan and Lizado were sitting perfectly still, staring ahead like mannequins.

  The student blinked.

  "…Are you guys okay?"

  "Yes," Rohan answered immediately.

  "Yes," Lizado echoed a fraction too quickly.

  The student nodded slowly and backed out of the room.

  Silence returned.

  Lizado blinked violently again.

  "New personal record," he whispered.

  "Noted," Rohan replied.

  Outside, Karna moved through the corridor toward the athletic wing. Morning light cut across the polished floors in long, clean lines. Trophy cases reflected his silhouette as he passed.

  He did not slow down or check his phone.

  He adjusted the strap of his archery case once and stepped through the double doors leading outside.

  Humidity greeted him immediately, softened by the distant sea breeze drifting inland from Marine Drive. The field was still mostly empty. Groundskeepers were finishing their routines. A coach stood near the far track, pretending not to supervise too closely.

  The archery range sat quietly at the far end of the grounds.

  Targets aligned perfectly.

  Distance markers are precise.

  Wind minimal.

  Good conditions.

  He stepped onto the range and set his case down on the bench. The afternoon challenge would draw a crowd. Arjuna had made sure of that.

  This, however, was his time.

  He unzipped the case, removed the bow, and began assembling it with steady hands. Limbs locked into place. String tension adjusted. Grip checked.

  The first arrow rested lightly between his fingers.

  He stepped to the line.

  Raised the bow.

  Drew.

  The world narrowed to breath and release.

  The arrow struck dead centre.

  Karna lowered the bow slightly.

  Practice first.

  The challenge would come later.

  Another set of footsteps approached.

  Lighter.

  Measured.

  Karna did not turn.

  He felt the shift in presence before hearing it.

  Arjuna stepped onto the field carrying nothing but a water bottle.

  He looked almost out of place on an archery range.

  Slender frame. Narrow shoulders. Long, elegant lines that leaned more toward dancer than warrior. His uniform jacket was unbuttoned despite regulation, sleeves pushed back just enough to reveal slim wrists and precise hands. His hair fell slightly longer than school standards allowed, framing his face in soft black strands that caught the light deliberately.

  From behind, more than one person had mistaken him for a girl.

  From the front, it did not help.

  His features were refined. Clean jaw but softened lines. Long lashes. Sharp eyes that made the rest look intentional.

  He walked past the equipment rack and selected a standard practice bow. Regulation issue. Slightly scuffed. Not his.

  Karna, by contrast, already had his own.

  Custom grip.

  Balanced limbs.

  Personal tuning.

  Arjuna ran his fingers lightly over the practice bowstring and tested the draw weight once.

  Satisfied.

  He stepped beside Karna.

  "Early," Arjuna said.

  "So are you."

  "I heard you adjusted your schedule."

  "You heard."

  "I keep informed."

  He raised the practice bow and nocked an arrow.

  Two girls walking along the far edge of the field slowed when they saw them standing shoulder to shoulder.

  One whispered something.

  The other giggled.

  Arjuna's lips curved faintly.

  He adjusted his posture deliberately.

  Not exaggerated.

  Just enough.

  He rolled his shoulders back, spine arching slightly as he settled into a stance. The movement emphasised how lean he was. How clean his lines were. How unfair the contrast looked next to Karna's broader build.

  Karna stared at the target.

  "You're doing it again."

  "Doing what?"

  "You know what."

  Arjuna tilted his head slightly, lashes lowering just a fraction.

  "If the narrative benefits me, I see no reason to interfere."

  From behind them, a coach passed and muttered, "…You two lovebirds again."

  Arjuna did not even glance back.

  Instead, he stepped a little closer to Karna's side. Close enough that their sleeves almost brushed.

  He drew the bow smoothly.

  The string tightened against his fingers.

  Release.

  The arrow split the outer ring.

  Karna loosed his next shot without comment.

  Dead centre.

  Arjuna smiled, small and satisfied.

  "You're tense today."

  "I'm practising."

  "For me?"

  Karna exhaled through his nose.

  "For the target."

  Arjuna leaned in just enough that if someone were watching from a distance, the angle would be misread.

  Several people were watching.

  He raised the practice bow again.

  "You know," Arjuna said lightly, "the entire school thinks we're dating."

  "I'm aware."

  "Half think I'm your girlfriend. The other half thinks I'm the boyfriend."

  Karna did not look at him. "Irrelevant."

  "Important distinction," Arjuna replied calmly. "Hierarchy matters."

  Karna released another arrow.

  Bullseye.

  "They are inefficient."

  Arjuna smiled faintly. "Still not a denial."

  Karna stepped back and adjusted the distance marker again, this time without comment. The target shifted farther downrange, the red centre shrinking perceptibly. Arjuna watched him, then moved his own marker one meter beyond Karna's, casual as breathing.

  "You compensate with distance," Arjuna observed mildly.

  "You compensate with commentary."

  "Efficiency of language."

  "Waste of air."

  Arjuna's mouth curved. He drew again, the practice bow bending in a smooth arc despite its ordinary build. His posture was impeccable, spine straight, shoulders relaxed, long fingers steady on the string. He released without flourish. The arrow struck just left of centre.

  Dead centre.

  A murmur drifted from the edge of the field. Word had spread faster than either of them cared to admit. A few students lingered near the track under the pretence of stretching. Two girls sat on the bleachers, pretending to scroll through their phones while watching openly.

  Arjuna angled slightly toward Karna again, just enough to feed the optics. "You're aware this will be public."

  "I am."

  "And that losing in private practice does not count."

  "You are not losing."

  "Yet."

  Karna did not rise to it. He stepped forward and retrieved another arrow, movements economical and precise. The sun climbed higher, heat settling into the field. Somewhere beyond the buildings, the sea wind shifted direction.

  Arjuna felt it too.

  He lowered the bow slightly. "Afternoon crowd will be larger than usual."

  "Yes."

  "Sea Games energy."

  "Yes."

  "And perhaps," Arjuna added lightly, "fate."

  Karna's eyes narrowed by a fraction. "Archery."

  Arjuna chuckled softly and raised the bow again. "As you wish."

  They drew at the same time.

  Two arrows cut through the air in perfect parallel.

  Both struck the centre.

  The distance between them felt smaller than the meters suggested.

  The afternoon would not be quiet.