The atmosphere inside the mansion had shifted. The eerie, majestic grandeur of the place now felt suffocating, thick with the kind of tension that made even the air feel heavy. The group stood in stunned silence, still processing the unexpected familiarity between Professor Sivaraaman and the mysterious man before them-Thavachelvan. Even if the acknowledgment came in the form of an old rivalry, it was still acknowledgment.

  But Thavachelvan wasn't concerned with past wars. His sharp eyes remained fixed on Kavin and Azhini, his scrutiny unwavering. Without hesitation, he took their pulse, checked their ādhāras, observed their breath, and peered deeply into their eyes.

  Then, in his signature calm yet foreboding voice, he finally spoke.

  "We don't have time to brag about our wars here, Siva."

  Sivaraaman stiffened. His friend rarely spoke, and when he did, it was never without reason.

  "Why? What do you mean... What have you found?"

  Thavachelvan's gaze didn't waver. "The boy's body is stable. His soul isn't."

  A collective chill ran through the group.

  Sivaraaman's breath hitched. "And Azhini?"

  "Her body can withstand only Trimandala before it collapses. Her soul is stable-for now. But the moment she forgets herself in the game, she's gone."

  A sharp intake of breath was heard.

  Karthikeyan felt a jolt of shock course through him. "Trimandala...? That means she only has 144 days! Could she really manage? What if she-" He didn't dare complete the thought. His fists clenched involuntarily, anxiety settling deep in his bones.

  Sivaraaman's voice sharpened with urgency. "Thavachelvan, don't just throw riddles at us! Explain properly!"

  But Thavachelvan simply looked at him with unfaltering calm, a silent declaration that there would be no further explanations.

  Then, in one swift motion, he reached behind his collar and pulled out a slender object that had been concealed beneath his shirt. The unnatural bulge at the back of his neck earlier-this was the cause. A bamboo staff.

  Without hesitation, he pressed his thumb against a hidden groove, releasing a fine powder from within. He knelt and, with precise, deliberate strokes, began tracing intricate patterns onto the ground. Yantras, spirals, symbols that seemed to vibrate with an unseen energy.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  And then came the chanting.

  Low, resonant, carrying a weight that seeped into the very walls of the mansion.

  Mithun squinted at the symbols forming on the floor. "Okay... either this is some next-level coding trick or we've officially entered the Tamil Nadu edition of Doctor Strange."

  Vicky leaned in. "Do you think he's drawing a cheat code? Like, unlimited lives or something?"

  Mithun sighed. "Forget cheat codes. If he can make free food appear, I'm in."

  Before anyone could react, Thavachelvan's voice cut through the room like a blade.

  "No more talking. Press play. Now."

  The command was aimed directly at Vicky.

  Vicky flinched, hands hovering over the controls, hesitating. "W-Wait, but-"

  "Now!" Thavachelvan's tone brooked no argument.

  Even Sivaraaman gave a sharp nod.

  Reluctantly, Vicky pressed play.

  The screen flickered back to life.

  There, displayed in unnerving clarity, was Azhini-no, Sanjana. Her virtual avatar sat cross-legged on the game's terrain, but something was wrong.

  Her face was pale, sweat rolling down her temples. Her lips trembled. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Before her, Sam sat stiffly, hands clenched into tight fists. He was visibly tense, utterly at a loss. His eyes darted between her trembling form and the world around them, his worry mirroring the concern gripping everyone in the mansion.

  Silence.

  No one breathed.

  They could see what was happening, but none of them could perceive what was happening inside her mind. The screen could only show so much.

  But one person could.

  Thavachelvan.

  Without hesitation, he walked to the bindhu-the exact center of the yantra he had drawn. Lowering himself, he sat cross-legged within it and closed his eyes.

  The chanting resumed.

  Strange syllables layered with an unnatural resonance.

  Meera, watching intently, felt a shiver crawl up her spine. "This doesn't make sense. Azhini's inside a digital space. Her neural activity should be dictated by the game's algorithms, not some... chant from the outside. How is he influencing her consciousness? Is this some kind of-"

  Her breath hitched.

  "A humanoid machine? Or something even more advanced?"

  On the screen, Azhini's breath steadied.

  The storm in her eyes cleared.

  And then-she woke up.

  A warm conversation began between Sam and Azhini.

  In the mansion, no one spoke.

  It was apparent that Thavachelvan had done something. The situation had stabilized. But how?

  How did he influence a transferred consciousness from outside the game?

  Wasn't that... cheating reality itself?

  As confusion swirled, Thavachelvan rose fluidly. His bamboo staff spun effortlessly in his hands, the force and air from his movement erasing the yantra he had drawn.

  Then, in one smooth motion, he leaped-

  -and landed cross-legged on the very tip of his bamboo staff.

  The staff stood upright.

  Defying gravity.

  Defying logic.

  A collective gasp.

  Mithun's jaw dropped. "Okay, I'm officially convinced. Either gravity doesn't apply to him, or he was born in a wire-fu action scene."

  Vicky muttered, "I was going to say it's CGI, but we're in real life... right?"

  Unfazed, Thavachelvan merely closed his eyes and said, "Ask your questions. One by one."

  Sivaraaman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can't you do anything normal?"

  Then, noticing the mesmerized expressions of the younger doctors, he clicked his tongue.

  "Don't get fooled by him, ladies. This man is my classmate. At the age of 55. And he pledged to never marry."

  The girls instantly blushed and gasped in unison.

  "PROFESSOR!"

  The boys coughed awkwardly.

  Mithun whispered to Vicky, "Okay, but if this guy was on Tinder, I swear he'd break the algorithm."

  Vicky nodded solemnly. "Facts."

  And with that, the chaos in the mansion only deepened.

  ---

  The unfazed Thavachelvan let others to ask him questions now. But unfortunately, he was the type to drag you through the fire, make you question your very existence, and leave you wondering if you really needed to know it, in the first place.

  Knowledge comes at a cost.

  And soon, they would understand.

  Not all answers are meant to be received painlessly.

  Some must be earned.

  And some... leave a scar.

  ---