He is the Observer. His name is Arvinda. He is still alive, hidden somewhere in Shorika, a remnant of an ancient community long forgotten by time. The book spoke of him in hushed tones, intertwined with tales of prana—an energy beyond ordinary understanding. Alvin didn't fully grasp it yet, but he knew one thing: prana was the reason Arvinda endured, why he remained, untouched by centuries.

Arvinda had stopped breathing, existing in a state called Jiva Samadhi, suspended between life and death. He survived on hope, fueled by devotion to a strange, forgotten god. He believed this deity had appointed him a task—one that spanned ages and epochs.

Stories of his existence appeared in every epoch, but humans of the land never noticed him. He wandered freely through Shorika, a living legend, a figure invisible yet steeped in history.

Alvin's curiosity piqued as Ranjan spoke. His eyes grew glossy, a slight curl forming on his lips. "Brother… once we bathe under the green cave waters, we will go to Shorika. I want to find this Arvinda. I want to hear the stories of his life… and the god he worships."

Ranjan's gaze went vacant, distant, as if staring through time itself. "That… doesn't intrigue me," he murmured, voice low but edged with steel. "What I want to understand is this—what is the mythical power? What is this lure the world carries, drawing beings, epochs, even entire civilizations toward it? The Third World… it makes me feel small, insignificant in the race of power beyond imagination."

His fist clenched tightly, veins standing out under pale skin. "I promised my late mother… that I would become the strongest, the most powerful, the richest person in this world." His voice trembled, not from fear, but from the gravity of a vow forged in the flames of loss.

"I lived a life of sorrow and pain from my childhood," he continued, eyes narrowing. "But my mother… she dreamed of seeing me above all humans. She wanted me to seize everything this world had to offer." Conviction coursed through his veins, as if he had carried it from the moment of birth.

"The masses… they killed her when I was seven. And I carry that promise with me." He closed his eyes, letting the memory sweep over him like a tidal wave. He remembered the final moments, the whirlpool of pain and blood. His mother's hands—weak, trembling—grasped his own. Through the haze of her suffering, her voice pierced his soul:

"Don't die poor. Don't die ignored, weak, Ranjan. Promise me… promise me that you will become the greatest, the richest, the most powerful human in this world."

Little Ranjan, seeing her blood soaking the wooden floor of their slum, her life slipping away, felt something ignite in his chest. Screaming, crying, drowning in sorrow under the dim light, he bound his soul to her words.

"Yes, Mother," he sobbed, voice raw and fierce. "I will. I will."

He wiped his tears, eyes burning with unwavering determination. "I will become the most… the most powerful, richest, and greatest person in this world."

Then Ranjan opened his eyes. The flicker of moonlight glinted off them like steel. His voice came out firm, steady, each word a blade cutting through the heavy air.

"It doesn't matter what's coming," he said, his tone unshakable. "It doesn't matter what fate this world carries, or whether this book refers to us or not. I will carve my own path. Litos Tideborn… soon the world will remember that name. I will become the most powerful, the most valuable person in the history of humankind."

"I trust you—" Alvin cut him off mid-sentence, his voice soft but certain.

"I trust you, brother."

He smiled then, a small, playful curl at the corner of his lips. "You know why I was enjoying all that prediction stuff? Because in my head I'm imagining Litos Tideborn, in this 7th Epoch, rocking the race of power." His grin widened, almost boyish. "I'm cheering for the future already — for the day someone rises like a wave of thunder and takes everything. All this history, all this setup — I see it breaking apart… by just two brothers from another mother."

He leaned closer, eyes gleaming like wet glass under the faint glow of the room. "I see the vision, brother — the one where you finally get what we dreamed of.

I'm with you. Always."

Alvin extended his hand. Ranjan stared at it for a heartbeat, then clasped it. The moment felt iconic — two brothers sealing their pact, two forces bound by destiny.

Where Litos Tideborn would go, only time would tell.

****************

Meanwhile, inside Baku City, chaos reigned unchecked. The streets near Ramuza's quarters were a whirlwind of panic and tension. Mages of every specialty scoured the area, their senses tuned to detect blood, trace marks, and any lingering magical residue. Each movement was precise, calculated, yet frantic—an orchestra of fear and authority converging on the epicenter of destruction.

Inside Nova's house, a hush of urgency fell. Nyra's voice cut through the quiet, steady, and commanding:"We have to reach Hollow Mountain as soon as possible."

Sukamu's eyes narrowed, scanning the surrounding energy. "I can sense mages nearby. They will reach this place soon. This house… it is no longer safe. And trust me, getting to Hollow Mountain won't be easy. The path itself tests those who dare tread it."

Evening had already draped its indigo cloak across the horizon, casting long shadows in the room. Sukamu extended his hands, the air rippling as he created a portal—its surface swirling with a dark, mesmerizing blue. The portal connected directly to the summit of Hollow Mountain.

All four children, still recovering from earlier exhaustion, prepared to move. They steadied themselves, taking small but determined steps. One by one, they entered the portal, their forms swallowed by the luminous vortex.

Auren lingered last, his gaze fixed on Sukamu. A flicker of resolve danced in his eyes."I want to learn more about prana," he said quietly. "I want to practice it… understand it better."

Sukamu nodded, his voice calm yet firm. "Not now. This isn't the right time to ask. When everything settles, I will teach you. I visit Hollow Mountain occasionally—I admire Lee Wang, and you will learn from that. Don't worry."

Auren's lips curved into a gentle, grateful smile. "I understand," he said, stepping into the portal. The dark blue light enveloped him, and for a brief moment, the glow reflected in Sukamu's eyes like twin stars.

The portal shimmered and closed behind him, leaving silence in its wake—a calm, temporary pause before the storm beyond Baku City continued to rage.

In front of kids- It was Lee Wang, staring at them..

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