Author's Notes:

Short break till next exam the following week. Next chapter in progress.


-Karmic Severing-

The writ of Karma that linked them to the Rakshasa was severed, as an immaterial blade sliced through the thread like a hotknife through butter. The Golden Path collectively felt a nauseating feeling, some lost their footing, some vomited on the ground. But together they knew Ajay had done something. Sabal was surprised the most, everytime he was an inch from punishing Ajay, he would unleash some hidden card that would turn the odds.

Physically, nothing had changed amongst them. But Sabal sensed a dreadful feeling, he couldn't feel that link he had to the Mistress, his obsession. Almost as if something had robbed him of his connection to her.

The Golden Path fighters were slow to realize this as they laughed one after another that Ajay's trick had done nothing in the end.

(Babababababaam) Ajay wore a voracious expression as he fired fully automatic at the fighters whom didn't even try to dodge, knowing they couldn't be killed that way.

Or so they thought.

As the rounds struck their bodies and fell them one by one where he unleashed a full magazine upon them. They realized that they were no longer immortal. Ajay rushed forwards to the nearest fighter, cackling diabolically as he swept his captured kukri down into the man's face and cleaving it apart.

"ki-Kill him!"

The Golden Path were sent into shock by the events that took place. When they turned to Sabal for actions, he was already shouting for them to kill him or they would die with him. The loss of their greatest strength greatly impeded their ability to fight with a clear mind, to suddenly be thrown back into mortality. On top of that, they were fighting the demon himself. For Ajay, it was child's play. Dispatching them one by one with precision shots from his G3 rifle. 7.62mm NATO did the rest for him, one by one they fell like flies until the initial fifty became twenty in just a minute.

They began to flee in separate directions, though Ajay was looking for only one person.

"Oh Sabaaalll! Where are you?" He called out as he loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle.

He knew he was somewhere around, but keeping silent to stay hidden.

"Quite the ironic twist ain't it, Sabal? You don't need to hide, your powers are still intact. I left just yours remaining to give your weak bambi legs a bit of courage."

Hearing this Sabal stood out of cover. Ajay suddenly laughed at the situation.

"Wow, how naïve and conceit are you to believe me?"

He stricken as he realized that he could have lied.

"Just kidding, I want you to fight for your life. I severed something else to keep her from watching, that's all."

Severed something. These words washed through his mind that Ajay had ascended into a new realm that rivaled the Rakshasa and possibly the Mistress herself. He was now becoming nothing more than an insect to be crushed but an unsuspecting shoe, Sabal wasn't even an annoyance to Ajay anymore.

"Is that all some kind of game to you?" He asked with caution and dread.

"Of course not, but that doesn't mean there aren't any winners and losers in this fight. There are still gambles, and fights left to chance to decide. Your Golden Path mischief is an unfortunate nuisance to my plans. Actually….. I'm curious. What does Golden Path stand for now? If you were to return to Kyrat, would you be welcomed with cheers and open arms? Or would you be seen as invading traitors?"

"It's all your fault! Y-You've poisoned the people's minds with decadence and greed! You've toyed with people's lives-."

"Let's agree to disagree, shall we? You aren't the one to talk for the twenty thousand that died under your command and stupid strategic decisions. I mean, Amita was smart enough to break away from you to save what she could of Golden Path worth salvaging. When everyone gave up on you, what did you do instead of accept responsibility? You hid behind my father for protection."

"I-…. He accepted me for what I am!"

"Maybe, or perhaps he thought you'd be a useful tool to re-enter Golden Path with, who knows. Do you really think of yourself so highly that you can't even see other's using you like you did them? But you know what, Jason might be equally dishonest and cowardly, but at least he has a conscience to admit he's wrong whereas you don't seem to have it at all." Sabal's mouth twisted as he figured something of his own in this exchange of insults.

"You're angry because of Kamala, in truth I wished I had a more satisfactory way of torturing her had you not arrived. And I'm sure she would have been screaming your name. Soren! Soren!" He mimicked a cry for help to get on his nerves.

"You misunderstood, Sabal." Ajay said with a dangerous grin that was not at all phased by his taunt.

"Kamala's death is indeed my fault. Because I didn't dispose of you sooner, I intentionally kept you around ranting. Believe it or not, you were doing a better job at pulling Golden Path apart alive than martyred, and it's still true to this moment. Because unlike everyone else you act on instinct, and only animals depend on that to live. Do you see the similarity there?"

This made Sabal boil like never before, even in this situation he had the time to mock him cleverly.

"But my real beef with you has always been you, Sabal. Just you." Sabal was baffled, they had never met before, not that he had ever conversed with him unlike when he was undercover as Soren.

"You're the type of bastard that'll warmly assure a brother but stab him in the back when it suits you. There is no place in Kyrat for a weasel of a man like you." Ajay said with a serious expression as it had a deeper meaning to it to himself than Sabal, in fact.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE ME!" Sabal charged in wild abandon with a kukri in hand.

"Seal!" Sabal stood rigid where he was like a statue with knife reaching out, he gazed intensely where Ajay was walking towards him. Once again, he'd been deceived by the power that Ajay hid.

"There's a tide that's coming, Sabal Rajput. And you've decided to side with it instead of your fellow man. For power? Fame? Fortune? I honestly don't care. But it's my duty as a Demon Banisher to vanquish all who stand against nature, including myself." Ajay wrapped his hand around the nape of Sabal's neck as he placed his kukri against his chest where the heart was.

Sabal's eyes leaked blood as they became bloodshot dancing about to the imminent death blow to him. Then, the sealing spell broke free. He wrestled Ajay in pitting strength, but Ajay hardly seemed strained as he focused the blade against his chest.

"Consider this an end to our Karma. For old time sake, I'll let you in on a little secret as well. The one that created Badala.."

"Nghoo- no!-… I can't-….. can't die!-….I-I…I will not- Ah-.."

His knife slowly plunged into his chest passing through his ribcage and into his heart.

"Ah-..ah-….ahhh-…."

The healing factor worked vigourously to restore it but if he were to lose function of it entirely he would surely die.

"Was none other than you." (shruck) He twisted the kukri to do maximum damage and destroyed his beating heart. Pulling out the blade, he swipped it across Sabal's neck at an untraceable speed.

Sabal's eyes strickened with fright, despair and regret all at once. Were on Ajay but eventually gazed into the sky then onto the ground. The head tumbled onto the ground, giving way to the fountain of blood gushing from the neck.

Ajay stared at the corpse's head with his eyes unwilling to accept death.

"You've been avenged, Ajay Ghale."

Ajay turned back to the direction Garud Durbar was. The presence of this many sleepers and within the palace itself spelt trouble within the Capital City. He worried little for Pagan's safety. Just as he thought that a shadow landed next to him from the rooftops.

"Naga. Status." The Royal Guard Hunter reported the situation of Pagan to him.

"His Royal Highness has been safety evacuated via Route D. On the Royal Helicopter." The rest of his group dropped down from above. One hunter handed Ajay a duffel bag which had a considerable weight to it. He opened it up to find his armour and what remained of his kit from the last fight with the Rakshasa. A note from Maya demanding he acknowledges this as a favour. Likely for more animal friends interaction.

Ajay couldn't help but smile, it was good to have these things around even if the foreseeable threat at present was limited to Golden Path and rioters.

"Thanks." Ajay began to strap on the pieces of armour slowly. The hunter leader awaited him.

"And what of the Papirese Government officials?" He got him talking while he changed.

"President Dhir and the Papirese cabinet have barred themselves in the library in Garud Durbar. The Yinkian delegates may be found there as well. Latest intel reports riots breaking out throughout the city, cause unknown. Golden Path numbers, unknown. Suspected formation based upon sites attacked is a Regiment worth."

"Sabal was leading an attempt of King Surendra Kumsa's life, we've yet to uncover the reason. Any news of his son in Kumsa?" Ajay shared some intel in exchange and inquired about Manendra as well, for he was a committee member of the Himavana Alliance.

But the Hunter Leader shook his head. He was finished with donning the armour and down to his empty harness for ammo magazines and grenades. The only weapon left on it were his heavy carbide composite kukri and the compound bow with modified arrow loader. A couple of semtex tip explosive bolts amongst the mix but that was it. He'd lost his trusty slayer to Purushartha's attacks. The pieces were lying on his workshop bench, looking to rebuild it back to working order if it was still possible. He didn't give it to the Armorers or Samar's apprentices because of the Vedic matrices carefully carved in by Darshan when he held on to it. That weapon was his responsibility, he would let the slayer return to doing its job in time to come.

"What are the forces available to us here?" Ajay said as he satisfied himself with what he had on hand to do this simple job of quelling unrest.

"His Royal Highness insisted our cadre stay behind to guard his grace, forgive us for being too late." Ajay noticed the other Hunters ensuring the Golden Path corpses were really down. Some civilians hiding within the shophouses peered out to investigate the silence of the firefight but quickly dove back in after distant explosions rattled the earth. Ajay and the hunters were not ignorant to the seriousness of the collapse of order here.

"Water under the bridge. What other forces can we rely on to restore order to the City? It doesn't have to be Royal army units or soldiers."

"We spotted a police station five blocks west of here that was in a skirmish with rioters."

The prospects for Papir were not sounding good. Racketeers, ill opportunists, men and women dissatisfied with the way of life here were taking advantage of public disorder and the inability of the government to maintain martial law. They were fanning the flames which the Golden Path had set lit with mere tinder. For a place that hadn't experienced unrest for perhaps three hundred years, it was a challenge for the armed forces and police here.

Ajay took out a medallion representing his office as the Commandant of the Himavanan Alliance Armies and handed it to the hunter.

"Approach the police chief inspector and tell him Badala will take responsibility in restoring order. Authorise the use of deadly force on armed assailants and non-lethal to aggressors. Set up a triage there to protect and consolidate the physicians."

"And if he refuses, my lord?" The Hunter Leader was just being realistic. Ajay was recently convicted of war crimes by the very country he was trying to save.

"Then leave him, show it to the nearest military garrison. And if it happens again, find anyone willing to protect their innocent, even if the soldiers don't comply get the people." Usually Ajay would never have involved those that weren't qualified in handling a situation, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The Hunter Leader understood the desperate measure that needed to be taken.

"If you do find willing volunteers tell them this."

"Kyrat will not let Papir fall into ruin, we will do our best to shelter the innocent and provide sanctuary. But this is your country, your city and your people. So… do not give us the pleasure of bragging rights." For once, the emotionless hunter couldn't help but smile wryly at that remark.

It didn't sympathize or baby them because they were too weak to take care of there own. It said that Kyrat would support them and encouraged them to take the reigns on their own. The Hunter bowed as he took his leave.

"Where will you be, your grace?" Ajay HK-slapped his commandeered G3 rifle to send the bolt home.

The sounds of shouting and screaming throughout what was once the peaceful City of Papir had daunted the smoking streets.

"Wherever I'm needed."


Sagarmatha Airbase was operating at full capacity despite the lack of targets. Technicians were loading up the armaments on the Sukhois, Su-25 Frogfoots and A-4 fighter-bombers. Even the AWACS C&C IL-76 was fueled along with the other transport airlifters, all equipped for long endurance flights with external fuel tanks.

The men knew something was approaching, but their superiors were keeping a tight lip on this. Perhaps only the very top was aware of what was really going on, not even Base Com Rohan.

Pravindra was awarded by the Air Command at home, Vir Chakra for his feat in defeating "American Air Superiority" as the headline news described back in India. The F-22 Raptor was the embodiment of that supreme reign over the skies that the United States had held since the concept was around.

Pravi was greatly concerned by this move as Vir Chakra was a wartime medal. Did that mean that India was on a war footing with the States and their usual Himalayan rival? The Russians had left him an equally ominous gift left in the hangar. A prototype warplane that was planning limited production under the designation Su-57, built as a working prototype of the variant which the Indian Air Force was to receive five years down the road. Pravi didn't like it, it was as if they were coying them to carry on with the way things were intentional. Central Asia blazed on the international geopolitical landscape like never before. The technicians were already painting it in the colours of grey and black, and a logo of the sky wolf.

If he had to guess, they wanted him to deliberately fly into a dogfight with Indias greatest rivals, then use the combat data from his flights to aid in their flight and attack software development. They must've been impressed with the data from the time he fought with the Raptors, perhaps that was why they took that fighter back. And why he was personally assigned on this warplane by high command was because they also intended to acquire that data feed to improve the quality of their pilots and airframes. It felt like a really dirty way to do it, even so, he complied with the order.

He did however acquaint himself with it and found various faults despite apparent advantages for being more advanced than the previous airframes he flew in. For one, it was using the same engine as the Su-35 he flew just recently, yet because of the bulk of the airframe it gave a poorer thrust-to-weight ratio which in turn gave poorer energy recovery. Shorter range and engine lifespan. Its avionics suite depended heavily on other aircraft in the area to provide tactical information then the idea of operating lone wolf, and to carry the same number of missiles and bombs as before it would be at the cost of his stealth characteristics as the hidden bomb bays couldn't carry enough. This airframe was more troublesome than his good old two-seater Sukhoi.

Perhaps the Raptors faced the same design flaws, he'd have to ask the pilot on his free time. Lieutenant Olivia Lowde, service number 91-433-854, 27th Squadron. The pilot that took him hostage for a brief period and tried to contact Peshawar Air Base in Pakistan where she flew from. At that point, he was rescued by Michelle Dachss who knocked her out cold. Like any good soldier, she refused to cooperate with the interrogators. She even spent ten hours straight with Paul just talking on and on, sometimes repeating the stuff he just said in an attempt to agitate her. But she was good, it appeared that piloting wasn't her only natural talent. The interrogators laid off physical torture for the moment because she had experienced severe blood loss from a shrapnel sustained to her thigh. Even then, she tried to escape after waking up cuffed to a medical cot.

His fascination grew for her more and more. The most interesting characteristic about her was her style of a dogfight. Unlike her colleague or the Pakistani pilots who favoured missiles and BVR combat for all the right reasons. She tried to use the Raptor's 20mm Vulcan cannon on him, and not once but several times. Olivia was an old fashion dogfighter, much like him. His reasons for gun only dogfights were because guided missiles took the fun and danger out of fighter to fighter combat. It made many of his colleagues to heavily dependent on guided weapons to do the job for them, missiles weren't always available and in large quantity. Unlike the Americans who seemed to have missiles for days.

He reached the brig where the MP spotted him from a mile away coming forwards and opened the bars inside in advance chuckling as he did so. He knew he was here for one thing.

"Thanks, Anjan."

"Courting an inmate of a cell, what would your dear mother and father think?" The Military Policeman teased as he shook his head.

"Bhai, it's just an exchange of conversations. That pilot flew a Raptor and she almost had me a couple of times."

"And you still haven't had enough, so you're going to offer yourself up to her now, eh?" The MP laughed even as Pravi raised his hand at him as he made a munching motion to describe what she would do to him.

Pravi entered the brig without much difficulty, to be honest, he shouldn't have been here. However, his status symbol and elected post as the squadron commander gave him these sorts of perks to enter and leave restricted areas. Just the other day, he was allowed to drive to the Hungry Yak Shack through a Black zone without being pulled over. Of course, he didn't investigate what was inside, there was no point in him knowing.

Soon, he arrived at the dilapidated cell occupied by the newest POW. There was no answer from the figure lying in the cot. "Hey, it's me again. Brought lunch and a little bit of cold malt beer to go with it. Local stuff here is pretty nice." He sat on a stool next to the bars as he slotted the food through along with a bottle of Shangri-lager.

Pravi took a swig of the bottle before munching anything to wet his throat and encourage that the drink was authentic. He noticed a newspaper on the floor inside the jail cell and picked it up.

It was The Tribune papers from India. Headlines were "Rising Mountains." With a caricature of the former-American President standing before a caricature of Badala in his combat attire, cowboy showdown-style. Only to shoot himself in the foot and getting accused of incompetence by home. In any case, the losses were stated to be around twenty thousand. India accused the States of indiscriminately attacking their mountaineer forces during an exercise. The States wanted to deny but were facing scrutiny from the loved ones of those that had died. Twenty thousand was no small number, every one of those soldiers and sailors at least had an extended family. The tension was rising so greatly in Central Asia that the US Congress was deciding whether to pull troops out from Peshawar or not. India was on poor relations as it stood, they were most displeased with the nuclear incident outside their waters. Pakistan was also demanding an explanation as to why nuclear weapons were brought over in the first place. Badala had indeed trapped the US government in a gauntlet of international scrutiny and pressure. Pravi patted his back with the pilot's luck he had to avoid being on the receiving end of Badala's schemes. That guy was terrifying even before all this.

Pravi was sure that was not what affected her actually, he flipped over the pages.

"I officially don't exist." The jail cell's occupant answered.

He now understood the odd silence. For days, she'd been shouting and screaming to be let out and how they'd regret it when the Green Berets came. She was in the air providing air superiority for the POF fighter-bomber squadron sent to blast the air defences in Kyrat. Only to encounter the Tiger and Sokol joint squadron. She hadn't been aware of the ground development even after her capture, thinking they would be in Sagarmatha over the weekend. So it was hard to accept that they had lost on so many levels.

"You should eat before it gets cold." Was his only reply.

"…."

"Are you gonna die of starvation in a prison without hope for rescue?" His comment spurred her to stomp forward and retrieve food from the basket as she begun wolfing down on every bite.

(cough)(cough) Ended up choking on the bread only to be relieved by the beer handed to her.

She gulped down hard on the bottle, letting the cold malt rush down her throat and sooth it immediately.

"Are you here out of pity? It must be fun to watch a woman's defiance melt to zero then toy with her, huh?"

"Woman, what do you take me for? Some kind of sex-crazed pervert?" Pravi sighed.

"I'm not a part of what the Kyratis do to you. I'm just flying for India."

"Then why is it you're visiting this cell more times than those-…. Those monsters?"

-Monsters?- He could see visible fear on her expression but was she referring to the interrogators or her general idea of the Kyrati Army itself.

Pravi dug into his pocket and pulled out an old picture. A black and white photo of a handsome man with a gorgeous moustache.

"That's my Uncle. He's one of the last true gun fighting pilots in the entire IAF."

"Your role model, I'll assume." Pravi nodded. Although she had a harsh tone, she still bothered to answer without cursing or swearing like before.

"I flew my first plane when I was ten, a crop duster in the family farm. And that was when my life changed. But my uncle didn't leave it like that, he was a really eccentric guy. On certain days, he'd borrow another plane and we'd have an air battle royale."

Suddenly, her interested was piqued by this "battle royale" and how was it done if there were no weapons involved.

"We threw paint bombs at each other." He said with a smile as he reminisced the good old days.

"You threw paint bombs at a moving target going at least 120 miles an hour…" For the first time, she had an impressed look.

"… How did you steer the plane at ten?..." She murmured to herself as there seemed to be a gap in that logic he could fly a plane at that size.

"Books on the seat and metal pipes to the control pedals."

"Jesus Christ…. Did you hit your head as a child?!" Pravi saw no flaw or fault in that experience but others had told him that by common sense, his Uncle should've gone to jail for allowing him to do such a thing or even supporting the idea of him flying at that age.

"But that did give me an advantage of advanced study to flying before any real pilot. When my feet and arms grew into the cockpit, I could make the bird turn on a dime. While they were in flight school touching their first simulation stick, I was doing stunts for the local air shows to clock the hours."

"Oh my gosh…" Hearing this unetiquettical story about a child flying a plane was a bit out of her window of calm.

"Yep, you got shot down by a flying circus clown." He said with a mighty big silly grin. As embarrassed as she was, Pravi's constant provoking made her break out giggling then laughing. "Well, technically, it was Sokol 1-1 that shot you. You were chasing the clown."

"… Hey, Pravi, right? Why do you keep coming here?"

"I have an important question I would like you to answer?"

"Alright, I think I'm in the mood to answer just one. So what is it?" Indeed, her mood had flipped over from the one that was rebellious or in angry to that of a light conversation partner.

"Why didn't you shoot me down?"

"…Excuse…me?" Olivia was just too shocked to answer his blunt question.

"I counted the seconds, it takes minimum 2 seconds to spool the M61 Vulcan, a fast reflex of 0.4 seconds to press the trigger and acquisition of 0.001 seconds. Yet, you gave me five-second windows on two occasions." Pravi had a serious expression that was void of any of that humour or friendliness from before.

"I-…." Olivia was frightened by the sudden change in mood and his expression. He became a totally different person on this matter.

"Was this your first combat mission?" Olivia was too tongue-tied to answer verbally.

"Have you ever shot down or earned an airframe kill?" Olivia shook her head.

"Oh, good! For a minute, I thought you were one of those arrogant pricks that fly because they think they can win because of tech." Pravi's smile was visible again.

"I do wanna ask either way, why was it that you used your gun on me than a missile? I'm pretty sure you had at least two sidewinders to do the job." In a radar dispersing environment, only the IRST tracker worked and so did IR missiles.

"….."

Olivia walked to the corner of the cell with the barred window. Thinking about his story to stave off the unfamiliarity, she wondered if it was worth telling him.

"Promise not to laugh."

"Why, is it that funny?"

"Cross your heart on whatever god you worship, then."

"I don't worship any god." It was a lie, Pravi didn't want to swear on any deity for such a trivial matter.

"(Sigh) Then make sure you don't spread this."

"Ok. I promise."

She hoped that perhaps through establishing a friendly relation she would be able to keep tabs on what was happening outside. Instead of remaining ignorant till the very last second like when she read the newspaper a day ago.

"I think the idea of missile-to-missile combat takes the sport out of flying."

"Yeah?" Pravi found it not even worth a chuckle.

"My instructors back in Langley threw a news article for us and said. "This is the future of air to air combat. Two nerds behind a joystick in pyjamas duelling out thousands of miles away from each other. People will get bombed by them at a touch of a button. At the end of the day. They go to bed with a clear conscience and without going through actual formal pilot training. This is the future of air combat because of overreliance on drones and guided missiles."."

"So your hand behind using the gun was merely to keep some essence of what dogfighting was." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe I just wanted to at least have a feel of what would gunfighting would be like. Down the road, I might not get the chance to try again."

Pravi had read on some magazines before. Drone technology was quickly catching up to replace certain manned roles. They could perform precision bombing and reconnaissance without fear of losing a pilot. Soon, drones would have a supersonic capability and without the restriction of handling G-forces that held humans back. They would take over the air superiority role in time to come. Then, manned-combat flights would truly end for their kind. America's aviation industry, microprocessor technology envelop, and funding allowed this to happen in the decades to come. When men and women like Pravi and Olivia would be relegated to the staff officer post instead of behind a stick that was the main reason they joined airforce.

"That hardly seems worth joking about."

"….."

(clang) Olivia looked up to see Pravi unlocking the bars with a lockpick.

"What are you doing?" (click) The door opened after some fiddling about by him.

"Follow me." Olivia was hesitant to follow him, not sure of his motives behind freeing her when she did threaten him before.

She followed him cautious of the surroundings as the cell was left vacant. "Where are we going?"

"Just a short excursion, that's all. To get some fresh air." She wondered if Pravi had a screw loose or something, to allow a POW to leave just for some "fresh air".

As he approached the checkpoint to the exit, he placed a cap on her head, removed her badges on her jumpsuit and the red, white, blue flag as well. Whilst putting on police shades.

"Good, Anjan's finished his shift."

He approached the replacement MP and signed off his name on the logbook for visitors and handed it back to the MP. The soldier held out the book to Olivia, thinking she'd also signed her name as a visitor.

"Your senior said it was alright if just one person signed." Pravi made up an excuse on the go. The MP nodded and allowed them exit by pressing the solenoid lock to the heavy reinforced door out of the brig.

The moment Olivia stepped out of the brig, she realized she was free. But where would she go in this unfamiliar territory? As far as she was aware, there were no US military forces in the area. Nearest was in Peshawar, all the way in Pakistan. But this outing at least allowed her to get a bearing of where she was. An airbase at least 200-300 acres, lined with airlifter hangars and hardened bunkers, a control tower and AESA radar were nearby as well. She hadn't thought much about it during her first attempt to escape. But seeing the activity around the bustling airbase, she wondered how the intel could miss this. Her last intel was that the IAF was guarding this airspace, for how could a "savage de facto state" as described by the penpushers have this sort of infrastructure. The brass had been lying to the men and her. They were invading a country.

"Here we are." Pravi brought her to a hangar and flipped the switch. Standing before them, were half-a-dozen Super Tucano turbo-propeller attack planes neatly parked within.

"Lupus Caelum and we use these for the CAS role alongside the Russian Frogfoots. But on our spare time and exercises, we use these as trainers."

Olivia looked around confused but had a weird feeling there was a purpose to being here. Pravi went over to unlock the glass canopy after retrieving an ignition key from the armoured box.

"No….." Olivia was half-unbelieving that he was so reckless as to do what he was planning. Pravi turned around with a smile as he swirled the keys in his finger.

"Like I said, we're going out for some fresh air."


They had left the city behind and entered the country roads, this was easy to tell from the unpaved roads. The 4x4 suspension kept the ride surprisingly smooth for the most part. Saraswati at the wheel was wary of the road ahead, they were still a distance away from the airfield where the protective squadrons were based. She had a Royal Guard take the wheel while she called the Airfield Intendant to send support their way.

"Fifty miles away from the field and a flight of helicopters on their way." She informed the VIP they were protecting.

"Would it not have been better to wait for a chopper then?" The captain insisted once more as he did in Garud Durbar.

"And add the risk of being shot down during take-off? Did Badala already explain to you? We don't know the strength of the Golden Path within the Capital City, so we can't take the air route within maximum security and assurance that the place is safe." Saras tried to be rational in her explanation but she had her doubts about the outcome.

If Golden Path were acting alone without the support of the Rakshasa this time, how long had they planned this for? They should've known to prepare for Ajay since he was in the vicinity. The lack of Papirese Guards and patrolmen in the streets worried her greatly. A thought matured in her head, one without proof but terrifying if true.

Golden Path had assimilated Papir entirely.

It was true that the Papirese were fearful of Ajay's potential as a dictator, but he'd proved many a time he would never go that route. His presence in the trial justified that very reason. He denied those charges like anyone had the right to even if he was a little strong on his wordings. She refused to believe that President Dhir had betrayed them, she was sure of it.

But this meant that Golden Path theoretically had sleeper and recruitment cells deep within every one of the Himavanan nations. Just because Mohan didn't take them the direct approach didn't mean he hadn't taken actions behind the scenes. They operated akin to a genuine terrorist organization.

Saras locked her phone preparing to return to the driver's seat.

"By the gods!" Came a remark from the passenger compartment. Saras glanced behind to see the Royal Guards of Kumsa gather around one of their own's tablet PC which played a news streaming of something.

The Captain pressed the loudspeaker for all to hear, including their King.

*…. With this, Kumsa declares its annulment of alliance membership. By my authority as King Manendra of Kumsa.*

Surendra reached out to frantically take the tablet from his men to confirm with his own eyes what he was hearing and seeing.

"Why…?"

*Kumsa hereby allies itself with the rightful rulers of Kyrat. Mohan Ghale of the Golden Path movement.*

"Shut that tablet, there's no point in getting bogged down by it." She told them as they were letting the news affect them too greatly.

-Tsh!... Mohan Ghale.- Saras clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction.

The Rakshasa was under ceasefire, Ajay was sure they wouldn't break the agreement. However, Golden Path did not fall under this category, they were loyal to Mohan and they were innately human. So it could be none other than Mohan who was acting.

But to turn Manendra Kumsa against his own father in a coup de tat, how was he able to do so? How would the Crown Prince of Kumsa so willingly join him and declare this statement to regional news live? The Himavanas was falling back into Civil War once again, not by external intervention but you its own people. What could they do to rectify this? Saraswati had no idea, this was beyond her own abilities to find a solution for.

It was going to be a long ride by land vehicle, so she searched around from the driver's compartment for anything to make the trip more comfortable. A portable radio set was found in the front dashboard, belonging to the original driver of the MRAP wherever he was. She turned it on and it played the preset channel frequency it was on previously.

*Radio Free Kyrat here, back with more hit songs to broadcast here today on "Western" Wednesdays. Our latest request from a listener somewhere in Sagarmatha….. "Hey, Bhai. Love the hits. Me and my girlfriend were watching this action flick from those imports on date night. What would be a cool escape music as the protagonist runs for his life in some smart way?" Hmmm…. Well, bro. I think I know which track you're referring too-… let's see.-di- hey! Ch-Chotu- don't touch those brownies! Ullu ke pathe! Nooo- no! (crash) Ahahaha! Hey, boys and girls! Yeah! So here's Hocus Pocus by Focus. Wow, just saying that-(mumble)…."

[Hocus Pocus plays]

Saras had no time to question what sort of wanton madness that was going on in hit radio DJ Rabi Ray's studio when-

(Crack) The windshield in front received a nasty large-calibre slug that was meant for her yet was stopped by the ballistic properties of the ceramic glass.

She scanned the area whilst putting the peddle to the metal and revving the Marauder MRAP to top speed over the bumpy road surface.

"Manned that mini-gun! We've got company!" She shouted to the man who Ajay gave a demo on using said weapon mounted on the vehicle gunner cupola. The Royal Guardsmen opened the small firing ports and slotted their rifle barrels through. The gunner chambered the 12.7x108mm minigun and spooled the gears to spin the barrels ready.

"There!" The Royal Guard Captain pointed from the Commander's cupola to their 3 o' clock where a convoy of technicals was closing in through the thick vegetation. They bashed through the bushes with the aid of a truck with a modified snowplough to allow their technical fleet ease of travel through the inaccessible. Those technical trucks were armed to the teeth, equipped with improvised plating but also weapons from the DshK Heavy Machine Guns to Recoilless guns. One gun-truck had an entire troop of RPG rocketeers in the back carriage.

(crack) (crack) Multiple hits from a plethora of machine gun rounds struck the ballistic glass repeatedly. The rockets came whizzing by in swirls as they had been defective.

"They're firing at us, ma'am!" Shouted the gunner.

"Then shoot back! Madarchod!" She didn't believe she had to even tell them this.

(Brrrrrrrrrrrrr)

The minigun chambered in 12.7x108mm, rounds the size of Tabasco bottles struck and annihilated a technical that mounted an anti-aircraft gun called a ZPU-4. A nasty weapon which could penetrate their armour with ease and instantly kill them in a hail of 14.5mm fire.

Seeing their fellow rider blown to smithereens by the MRAPs firepower, they began to disperse.

"YEAH! Did you see that?!"

"Keep an eye out, they're just spreading out!" There was no way that they were done, she needed these troublesome Kumsan guards to realize that quickly. Because unlike them, Golden Path was more competent.

True enough, they reappeared all around their 360. The gunner fired the minigun at one of the targets only to shred vegetation that blocked his view.

"Keep this thing steady!" He called to below.

"You do your job while I do mine! If you can't even hit a target 50 metres, then change with someone else! Because you can't shoot for shit!" It was adding to a headache, protecting a VIP whilst babysitting his almost incompetent guards.

The gunner traversed to an unobstructed target to gun him down. But with the movement of the trucks, it was difficult for him when they moved in a pattern that made him hesitate between several opportune targets.

The Golden Path fired repeatedly at the gunner's turret to disable him, but he was protected by a thick gunshield. His colleagues fired through the firing ports to little effect other than to let the enemy know they were wasting bullets.

Saras knew she couldn't depend on the combatants in the back. A technical attempted to send a boarding party as the gunner's turret was facing away. The turret had a slow traverse and could not protect the flanks with both sides at the same time.

She jammed the wheel to the left, sending the MRAP to slam the technical which flipped from the superior weight class of the Marauder.

"Garudsang, where are those escorts!?" She shouted into the communications module mic.

*This is Garudsang AirCom. Gunships and armed convoy on the route. ETA to your navisat location, 15 minutes. Hang in there, Echo Charlie 2-7.*

As the gunner dispatched the third technical that presented a significant threat to the integrity of the MRAP. The revving of a combination of dirtbikes and quadbikes rolled into view through the narrow thickets, each hand a rocketeer on their back.

"Take them out before they do damage!" She reached behind while one hand was on the wheel, and pulled out

(Brrrrrrrrrrrr-clack) "Huh?-…. It-…. It's jammed!"

"They never quit!"

"Shit! We're going to die!"

"Shut up! You're the bloody Royal Guard of Kumsa! And you're showing how damn unreliable you are in front of your king! If you can't contribute, then SHUT UP!" (screech) Hitting the brakes and sending the MRAP swerving around 180 degrees then hitting the pedal on full speed reserve. The front of the Marauder was now facing the bikers to their surprise.

(Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr)

Opening the driver's armoured door, she pointed an M249 Para rested on the door frame at them and fired a barrage of 5.56mm ammo. Her boot was kept on the accelerator whilst one hand on the steering as she fired burst shots at the drivers of the bikes and cut them down one after another. Proving that she was more effective than the minigun as aimed shots killed the riders and took the rocketeers with them in a tumble to destruction. When the road behind was cleared out, she got in and closed the door. (screech) The MRAP was swung around back to the front on route to the airfield.

Surendra and the Royal Guards, in particular, had been utterly silenced by her. Making them reflect on their attitude and how she did everything on her own.

"That was badass, Colo-."

"Shut up!" She told the person seated next to her who should've been the one to attend to the defence of the vehicle while she was driving. She partly blamed the music for wrecking her focus, that upbeat music had little sense at all other than put her on the edge. The Golden Path assault squad became part of the receiving end of her releasing steam.

It was around five minutes since this assault began, for reference the whacky music had ended. Everyone was silent within the Marauder as she had asked. Surendra sighed in relief watching his guards wear glum faces. He understood it wasn't easy for them since this was their first combat situation. But he was glad that Badala had left a very capable officer to protect him…. And his guards. He believed they were in some sort of lover's relationship with one another which was ironic since her father was the one pressing charges.

"I'm sorry for the rough ride, your highness." She got off apologizing to him, a little sorry for tossing a frail old man in the back of the MRAP around with her driving.

"No! Not at all. Thank you for doing your best to protect me!"

Saras was now concentrating on the road as there could be more obstacles on the road ahead. The minigun was jammed and those behind didn't have the technical or even basic know-how on clearing the weapon. If Ajay was here, which he should've been had he not been dragged off by that nuisance, this travel would've been a breeze. She didn't want to stop either because these attacks had proven that it would be a big mistake.

Indeed, she did spot technical trucks from her rear mirror, but they were just tracking her to keep tabs on her current location. Likely to requisition the rest of the forces lying in waiting up ahead and set a proper ambush.

Saras understood from that broadcast, that the Crown Prince was usurping the throne and aiding Golden Path. It required Surendra dead to have full control over Kumsa. She didn't want to think how heartbreaking it must be for the King to be betrayed in such a way.

(Screech) Coming over the ridge of a hill, she was presented with a man-made barricade swarmed with Golden Path fighters behind sandbags and barbwire obstacles that blockaded the road in a hasty attempt.

She had only enough time to react with jamming the brakes which she thoroughly regretted as it killed the momentum that could have been used to smash through that weak barricade. Now she had none.

"Get out with your hands up!" Demanded the commander behind the blockade.

"Shit! Look what you've done!"

"Silence!" The King snapped at his own guards for words that were not necessary at this time. Saras remained silent as she accessed the situation and thought of ways to get around.

"Come out and we promise no harm will come to you! We only want Surendra Kumsa!" So it was confirmed that they were after the king's life.

"Captain…." She called to the Royal Guards' leader.

"Y-Yes?"

"Behind us, the forest should provide you and your men some protection from gunfire and visibility."

She shared her plans. The Royal Guard Captain looked behind, there was indeed the forest that lay there just 100 metres from them.

"When I reverse back there, take his Royal Highness out and head to the high grounds due South-West."

"My dear….. What are you intending to do?" Surendra sensed something off with her plan that didn't include her.

"Someone needs to keep them company." She motioned her chin to the blockade.

"By yourself?! That is suicide! What would Badala think?!"

"I can take care of myself, your highness. Before I'm Arjun Roka's daughter and Ajay's wife, I'm a warrior of Kyrat."

"Then come with us then."

"You'll travel better without being followed."

"Damn the gods! Then I'm staying!" He sat firmly on the seat and grabbed hold of one of the rifles and inspected it.

"But-."

"How can I-… Surendra Kumsa. KING OF KUMSA run with my tail between my legs and let the woman of my benefactor shield me!? I decline! If I die here today then so be it! I've fulfilled my clan's purpose and honour. Period." Surendra took all right to advise from her without even giving any further implication for him to flee here. Saras smiled awkwardly at the stubborn might of Kumsa.

"The rest of you, you are free to leave. Don't waste your future on a dead end like me." He forgave his Royal Guards for contemplation escape with or without him.

His Royal Guard showed hesitance in leaving him with a conviction in their hearts. But their leader spoke on their behalf and renewed their vigour.

"Your highness, with all due respect. We were born and raised in Kumsa, to turn our backs on her would be the greatest sacrilege. Our future is with Kumsa, our future is with the line of Kumsa."

As so, the guards remained loyal and courageous even in times of direness. Proving to Saras that even the Kumsans had a little bit of fire in their hearts as well.

The comms radio beeped for her to pick up a message. She reached for the mic and pressed it to hear the voice after she responded.

While they had been discussing their options in the Marauder, the Golden Path had grown anxious and advanced slowly but carefully to capture the occupants within. And that was when they heard a distant chopping of the wind.

(BOBOBOBOOM) The lengthy blockade erupted into a row of blooming fireballs as explosive projectiles struck the defences from behind.

More explosions blasted the parked technical trucks wielding heavy weapons into blazing hulks of metal with the power of the 80mm rockets tore them to shreds whether they were Exalts or not. The 6th Heli-borne Dragoons had arrived, a pair of Mi-28 laid down a heavy suppressive barrage as the new fleet of SuperPuma transports hovered in closer to dispatch their elite heli-borne assault troops. Seeing the reversal of their situation, the technicals who had trailed them all the way here had sped off to escape the dangerous Havoc gunships. But ended up being pursued by a Ka-52 attack helicopter equally well-armed. One of the newly acquired heavy armed scout helicopters meant to provide the Havocs with up to date battle intel and mark targets for them.

Those at the blockade were given no quarter as they fought for their survival even if it was slim. Because the Kyrati Army they knew now, would take no prisoners affiliated with Golden Path. Especially these men of battalion six who had previously been defending Baghadur for over five months against repetitive invasions from Sabal's Golden Path forces.

Surendra witnessed the swiftness of their execution in fighting the physically superior Exalts by using a combination of good tactics and attentive use of communication. He took a side long glance at his Royal Guard who stared in awe at the fluid motion of their disciplined actions. Where they previously had a complex of inferiority to the better trained Kyrati Army, now they had been inspired to take after their ally and neighbour to be just as good in time to come.

The meaning of Royal Guard of Kumsa now had more meaning to them than it had before. In time to come, Ajay might have to rely on forces not just his own.

And Kumsa just might be one of those allies who would stand by him.


"My brother, it was decided from birth you would be born to rule over this realm. The seer of Jalendu Temple confirmed this as the truth before your birth. Our family has hidden this from the people in the hopes that you may be kept safe till your time. It is your destiny, I am just content with paving the way for you, even if what I must do exceeds moral boundary. Remember, Sabal. Do not let others take what is yours. You are Sabal of House Rajput, but you are also the one and only son of the mountain."

He wished he'd followed his elder brother's words more closely, his death had sent him on the path to reclaim Kyrat. Everything had gone as foreseen, knowing that he would rule was where his confidence came. But then everything crumbled when he had experienced the first defeat, the demon of Kyrat given him his first wound.

Something burned deep in his heart like never before, as a wave of nostalgia had struck him. A memory that he had not experienced in this life but in a past life. A memory of yet another who stole from him his path to prominence and had given a scar that would forever taint his being.

This was the fuel that burned Sabal's hatred to that of a thousand years worth. But he had a prophecy that would assure his victory, so he wagered everything. And lost everything in turn. This fashion repeated itself over and over until he died the first time. Then, he questioned if the prophecy was even legitimate. But by being alive, he would be able to see it through, so he had faith in himself that it would be true.

Until he fell under his blade again. Every push seemed harder, every trial was beyond all hope. And so, the gap kept widening with every encounter. Once, he had met him in the forests near Meh teh, at his mercy. His delays had cost him the one and only chance he should have killed him and be done with it. Until it was almost impossible to do so on his own. Devas fell to him, superpowers cowered in fear, and now he rivalled the Rakshasa.

This world that should have belonged to him, was promised to him since birth. Was now a world that belonged to Badala-…. Ajay Ghale.

Now, he was reduced to the state of a severed head. With the immortal physique, struggling to keep him alive for every moment longer.

-Why god!? Why must you be so cruel!?-

-I have done everything in your name! Memorized the scriptures, sung the hymn of grace, worshipped you my entire life! Where is the glory your seer promised?!-

-That one cares not for his flock. Not for five thousand years, not ever. This realm is his and he dictates that you die upon receiving Ajay Ghale's blade.- Hearing the voice of the Mistress of the Rakshasa, Sabal was filled with elation.

-Mistress… save me….- The last thoughts in his brain losing consciousness and falling into death screamed.

-You cannot live a man in your present state. But that does not mean you cannot live again. Just not as a mortal man.-

-Anything. What good was a life in servitude to those idle others?! You saved me once, please save me again! Save me, and I shall dedicate my new life to you!-

A chuckle could be heard in the recesses of his mind upon hearing his desperation.

-And what if you were to become like us? Rakshasa in form and in heart.-

A long silence approached.

-Then so be it. To hell with humanity!-

A laughter rung out in his slowly dying mind so great that it shook his psyche.

-So be it.-

His body burst into flames and melded together, this emerald flame, however, did not resemble a normal fire. It bellowed no smoke, the viscous flames ate more and more of the earth around it and grew in size till it encroached the entire street which Sabal had fallen prey once again to the demon's blade. A seed was planted within him from the day he was revived, just like every other Exalt Fighter. But for Sabal's case, his destiny mixed with this seed and nourished it. Making him stand above other exalts on an entirely different realm although not reaching the strength that was of a Rakshasa but close to what had been done with the Devas.

This seed affixed to whomever it was planted in would seal their fate to a certain path. Just as the "elixir" did to the Disciples of Yalung. So will it to the exalts of Rakshasa Princess Esha, for in the process of exaltation. They were made to drink a black liquid, Rakshasa blood. And not just any Rakshasa blood. But "his" blood.

[REEAAAAAAHHHH!]

A tremendously powerful skriek dominated the city that was the new battlefield. Making all heads turn to the bright emerald blaze that dominated the outskirts of the city where Surendra had escaped certain death.

(crunch) An eight-foot talon emerged from the flames, smashing the ground under its enormous weight. The foot resembling that of a bird was cladded in an armoured skin with a bronze finish. The rest of its humongous body was revealed as the flames dimmed. A towering monstrosity had been born in the land that held the entity it resembled with pride and reverence. Garuda, the might celestial bird that the centre of Papirese politics Garud Durbar borrowed its name from.

Except for this entity, with eyes ablaze held a perverse image of that powerful representation. This entity was unlike anything man had seen for thousands of years, but perhaps one person would recognize it. Not from his own memory, but of a vision where he witnessed the epic of Kalinag. This entity was the final expression of the Rakshasa invasion of Shangri-la faced by Kalinag.

Flapping its metallic-like wings for the first time, a maelstrom kicked debris of rubble from the damaged buildings while the flames died out from suffocation. Kicking off from the ground, despite its obvious size and bulk. It defied gravity by taking off into the sky, heading on one direction.

[RAAAAAAHHHHEEEAAA!]

This was the embodiment of the Rakshasas' will.


Author's Thoughts:

Spoiler to next main chapter:

Bur-ning, City square

Anarchy, everywhere

Duel-on, Palace roof

Rakshasa, Demon God….

SEPHIROTH!