The attack came unexpectedly; the Northern jungle was supposed to stay protected from both wild and celestial beings. Turns out it wasn't quite the case after the attack that happened a few days ago, the palace and the royal capital were already on alert: guards had surrounded the realm, creating a protective barrier. But the myth isn't afraid of the block, it doesn't need a door to enter, it appears out of nowhere like a mist, like justice, it's served no matter how long it gets.

Justice is a funny thing, as obnoxious as it sounds, the two sides of dharma aren't black or white, but the canvas is filled with greyish streaks where one side contains more back than white. The war of dharma isn't just that of swords and shastras; it's of a perspective larger than mortal existence; it's a battle of narrative that only the winner can win.