Hello, My Munchkins!!!

We're finally beginning the journey of this book, and I couldn't be more excited to have you here. 🤍

I truly hope everyone who starts this novel stays with me until the very last chapter. I hope you don't just read this story—I hope you live it, feel every emotion, and create beautiful memories with the people of Mayuradish.

And if I make any mistakes along the way, I hope you'll forgive your author with the same love you've given this story.

Now, without making you wait any longer... welcome to the world of Deadly Chance: Redemption.

Happy Reading, my lovely Munchkines! 🖤

There are times when death becomes the end of everything, and there are times when it becomes the beginning of something far more terrifying. Perhaps no living soul ever truly knows which one awaits them. Perhaps that is why people fear death—not because they know what lies beyond it, but because they don't.

"Maharaj, aapne ye humare saath achha nahi kiya..."
(Maharaj, you did not do this right by us...)

The voice came from somewhere in the darkness.

Shantanu's brows drew together. He could not understand where the sound was coming from, nor why it sounded so painfully familiar. Before he could make sense of it, another voice overlapped the first, this one trembling with exhaustion and desperation.

"Kahan jaa kar nayae maange hum? Kahan lekar jaaye apne bhookhe bachchon ko hum..."
(Where am I supposed to go and beg for help? Where am I supposed to take my hungry children?)

Then another voice rose, cracked by grief.

"Humra putra is raaj ke liye balidan ho gaya... lekin usko rajdrohi kaha gaya."
(My son sacrificed his life for this kingdom... yet he was called a traitor.

Shantanu's breathing became heavier. The voices were coming faster now, one drowning beneath another before another replaced it. He tried to concentrate on a single voice, but there were too many. A man begging for justice. A woman mourning her son. A farmer speaking about his ruined fields. Someone cursing the king he had once trusted. Someone else still calling him Maharaj as though they believed he could hear them.

"Bhagwan, kahan hai aap? Bacha lijiye humein... humara humare raja se bharosa uth gaya hai..."
(God, where are you? Save us... we have lost our faith in our king...)

Shantanu's jaw tightened.

His head had begun to ache.

The voices were no longer distant. They were inside his head now, pressing against his temples until every word seemed to echo through his skull. He lifted his hands to cover his ears, but the voices did not fade. If anything, they became clearer.

And then came a child's voice.

"Maa... humein kuch khaane ko dijiye na... humein bhookh lagi hai... maa..."
(Mother... please give us something to eat... I'm hungry... mother...)

Something about that small, trembling voice made Shantanu's chest tighten.

He heard the child cry again.

Then the farmer's broken voice followed.

"Hey Bhagwan... kya khilaye hum apne parivaar ko? Is baar saari anaaj ki fasal kharaab ho gayi... sookhe ki wajah se..."
(Oh God... what will I feed my family? The entire crop has been ruined this time... because of the drought...)

Shantanu tried to breathe.

The air felt strangely heavy.

He took another breath, but it did little to calm him. His chest seemed to tighten further, and the voices grew louder until they were no longer voices he could simply hear. He could feel the emotions behind them—the helplessness of the hungry, the grief of those who had lost someone, the anger of people who had trusted their king and been left disappointed.

His forehead was covered in sweat.

He didn't understand what was happening.

He didn't understand why these people were speaking to him.

And most importantly, he didn't understand why their pain felt as though it were happening to him.

Shantanu's breathing turned ragged. He tried to push himself away from the voices, but there was nowhere to go. His body twisted restlessly against whatever surface lay beneath him, his fingers tightening as though he could somehow tear himself free from the invisible pressure surrounding him.

Then the voices became unbearable.

The child's cry pierced through everything.

Shantanu suddenly gasped and opened his eyes.

He sat upright, dragging in one breath after another, his chest rising violently as though he had been drowning. For several moments he simply remained there, struggling to steady himself. His heart felt as though it were trying to break through his ribs.

Slowly, the panic began to settle.

And that was when he realized something was wrong.

He didn't recognize the place.

Shantanu looked around him.

The ground beneath his hands was black and barren, covered with cracks that stretched in every direction. There wasn't a single blade of grass growing between them, not even a trace of life. Yet the strangest thing was its temperature. The earth was freezing—so cold that it should have hurt against his skin—but somehow his body remained untouched by it.

He raised his eyes.

There was no palace.

No familiar walls.

No guards.

No lamps.

No moon.

Shantanu inhaled.

The air felt thick.

He inhaled again, and the sensation became worse. It felt as though something invisible had wrapped itself around his throat. The harder he tried to breathe, the tighter that unseen pressure seemed to become.

He instinctively touched his neck.

His fingers found nothing.

Yet the suffocation remained.

Then, somewhere far beyond the darkness, something exploded.

BOOM.

Shantanu turned sharply.

A distant red glow tore through the blackness.

For a brief moment, he saw mountains—or perhaps enormous rocks—silhouetted against the crimson light as molten lava spilled down their sides. The sound that followed was deep and violent, the earth itself seeming to groan beneath the eruption.

The lava struck the rocks below and hissed against them, sending fragments of burning stone into the darkness.

Shantanu stared at the sight, unable to understand what kind of place could look like this.

He lowered his eyes to himself.

A simple white dhoti was wrapped around his waist. His body felt strangely light, almost unfamiliar. He ran a hand through his thick black hair, trying to gather his thoughts.

What had happened?

Where was he?

And why couldn't he remember how he had arrived here?

A cold silence settled around him again.

Shantanu was still trying to make sense of the strange land around him when the voices returned.

This time, they did not come from somewhere distant. They came all at once, violently, as though every voice that had haunted him moments ago had suddenly been trapped inside his skull. The cries, the accusations, the desperate pleas—they crashed against one another until Shantanu could no longer distinguish a single word. The sound was so unbearably loud that he felt as though his head might split open at any moment, as though his eardrums would burst beneath the pressure and blood would begin pouring from his ears. The suffocation returned with it. His chest tightened so suddenly that he instinctively gasped, yet the air seemed to have disappeared from his lungs. It felt as though someone had reached inside his chest and pulled every last breath out of him, leaving nothing behind but an unbearable emptiness.

Shantanu clamped both hands over his ears. He pressed his palms against them with all the strength he could muster, desperately trying to shut the voices out, but it made no difference. If anything, the harder he pressed, the louder they became. Their words began to blur into a terrifying roar, filling his head until he could barely think. His knees finally gave way beneath him, and he dropped onto the cold, cracked ground, breathing heavily as pain shot through his head. His shoulders trembled as he tried to endure it, but the agony became too much.

"Shaant ho jaiye sab!" he screamed, his voice breaking through the darkness. "Shaant! Ekdum Shaant ho jaiye!"
(Be quiet, all of you! Quiet! Just be quiet!)

He struck his ears with the heels of his palms, once, then again, desperately hoping the pain would somehow drown out the voices. His eyes squeezed shut as another wave of agony passed through him, and for a moment it felt as though he might lose whatever little control he still had.

Then, without warning, everything stopped.

The voices vanished.

The suffocating pressure disappeared.

Silence swallowed the entire realm so suddenly that Shantanu remained frozen on his knees, his hands still pressed against his ears. His breathing was the only sound he could hear.

Until a laugh broke through it.

A low, spine-chilling chuckle.

There was something horribly wrong with it. It wasn't the laughter of someone who had simply found something amusing. It carried an unmistakable sense of enjoyment—as though whoever was laughing had been watching Shantanu suffer and had found every second of it entertaining.

Shantanu's eyes snapped open.

The darkness was still there.

Nothing else.

He slowly rose from his knees and looked around him, his brown eyes filled with confusion and anger. The laughter seemed to come from everywhere at once—first from somewhere behind him, then from his left, then from somewhere directly in front of him. He turned in every direction, searching desperately for the person responsible, but there was no one.

The laughter continued.

It felt as though the unseen stranger was deliberately playing with him.

As though watching a man who had once commanded an entire kingdom now kneeling helplessly in the darkness was the greatest entertainment this place could offer.

Shantanu's anger finally overpowered his fear.

"Kaun ho tum? Samne aao humare!"
(Who are you? Come before me!)

Shantanu looked around, but there was no one in sight. His mind couldn't make sense of what was happening to him; it had no logic, no explanation to offer. The chuckle seemed to be coming from all four directions, yet Shantanu couldn't figure out where its owner actually was. Was he hiding inside that volcano? The chuckle had come from there too. Or perhaps he was somewhere behind those dark mountains—the voice had seemed to come from there as well. Could he be standing right behind Shantanu? Or perhaps in front of him? The thought grew even more unsettling when Shantanu wondered if the man was somehow inside his own mind, because no matter where he looked or what he thought, that mocking chuckle seemed to come from everywhere at once.

But then his gaze suddenly stopped in one particular direction, as though his brown eyes had caught sight of something his mind was still refusing to accept.

A faint, shimmering light moved slowly through the darkness. He narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what it was. It seemed to be flowing, almost like something alive. Curiosity finally overpowered his confusion, and Shantanu began walking towards it.

But the strange thing was, the closer he got, the farther that shimmering light seemed to move away from him. No matter how much he tried to shorten the distance between them, it remained just beyond his reach, as though it deliberately refused to let him come any closer. For a moment, Shantanu simply stood there, watching it with a growing sense of unease. It almost felt as though the mysterious thing was telling him that he wasn't allowed to approach it yet—that whatever lay beyond it belonged to a moment that had not arrived for him.

He stopped trying to chase it and instead focused on what lay before him. Slowly, the shape of the light became clearer, and realization struck him. It was a river. A river flowing endlessly through that dead, barren world, its surface glowing with a brilliance that seemed almost impossible against the darkness surrounding it. There were no stars above him, no moon, no trace of life anywhere in that endless black sky, yet the river shimmered as though every star in existence had fallen from the heavens and dissolved into its waters.

The sight reminded Shantanu of Chandrawahni, the river that flowed through Mayuradish—the river that nourished its soil, sustained its people, and had always been one of the kingdom's most beautiful sights. He had watched it countless times beneath the night sky, when the moonlight scattered across its surface and the stars seemed to reflect in its flowing waters. Mesmerized by the beauty of the river, Shantanu thought to himself and murmured, Chandrawahni bhi raatri mein aisi hi chamakti hai... jaise aasman ke saare sitare uske andar sama gaye hon. But even that familiar beauty seemed insignificant compared to the river before him. Its radiance was unlike anything he had ever witnessed—so intense that Chandrawahni's glow seemed almost nothing beside it.

Shantanu was still staring at the river, lost somewhere between wonder and confusion, when that laughter returned.

The same evil chuckle that had haunted the darkness moments ago echoed through the void again, except this time there was something sharper hidden beneath it. It wasn't merely laughter anymore. It carried amusement, mockery, and a cruel satisfaction, as though whoever was watching him was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the mighty Maharaj Shantanu Vairath standing helplessly in a world he couldn't understand. The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, wrapping itself around him until Shantanu could no longer tell where the darkness ended and that mocking presence began.

Shantanu, annoyed by that chuckle, said irritably. "Kon ho tum, samne kyu ni aate humre, aur konsi jagah hai ye....?" [Who are you? Why are you not coming in front of me, and what place is this?]

And then that chuckle stopped, and a deep voice came, which was cold as ice and cruel as hell, saying mockingly, "Sawagat hai aapka, Shantanu....humri duniya me." [Welcome to my world, Shantanu]

For the first time in Shantanu's life, someone called him by his name without giving it any respect; otherwise, Shantanu has always been addressed by someone as Maharaj, Rajkumar, Bhrata, and even his parents never called him by his name; they too used to say Rajkumar before his name. (Bhrata - big brother)

And the way this voice addressed Shantanu was more than enough for him to know that whoever this voice is has authority in this place, but Shantanu doesn't care about that- who this place belongs to. Right now, his only concern is why the hell he is here, who brought him here, and how.

He didn't like the way that voice had addressed him. It wounded his pride, but he pushed the irritation aside and began looking in every direction, trying to find its owner. Yet the voice seemed to come from everywhere—left, right, behind him, even from somewhere directly ahead. There was no source. No figure. Nothing.

It was almost as if whoever was hiding in the darkness was deliberately testing his patience.

Shantanu was about to demand an answer when a sharp pain suddenly erupted in his chest. His breath caught. The pain was so intense that his knees gave way, and he crashed onto the black, lifeless surface beneath him. He tried to steady himself, one hand reaching for something—anything—that could help him rise.

Instead, that chuckle returned.

Slow. Amused. Cruel.

As though the owner of that voice wouldn't care whether Shantanu lived or died.

Shantanu wanted to shout at the voice, but before he could draw another breath, the pain in his chest intensified. It felt as though his heart could burst at any moment, his lungs could collapse with his very next breath, and every rib in his body had broken at once. His mind had stopped working. His body no longer seemed to obey him. No matter how hard he tried to move, to breathe, to fight the pain, nothing worked.

For the first time in his life, Shantanu felt completely helpless.

And then, swallowing the last remnants of his pride, he did something he had never done before. The most feared warrior of Aaryvart— a man who had never bowed before an enemy, never pleaded before anyone—finally begged.

His voice came out low, barely above a whisper, but clear enough to be heard through the endless darkness.

"Madad kijiye humari."
[Help me.]

The pain grew until Shantanu could no longer feel it only in his chest. It seemed to spread through his entire body, overwhelming every thought he tried to hold on to. He felt as though his body could give in at any moment. Helplessly, he remained on the unfamiliar, barren ground, clinging to the faint hope that someone—anyone—would come to help him.

But his eyelids were becoming heavier.

The pain intensified, and a helpless sound escaped him as he struggled to remain conscious. For the first time, Shantanu truly felt as though death was standing somewhere close, waiting for him. He didn't want to die here. Not on this strange, lifeless land where he didn't even know how he had arrived. If death had to come for him, he wanted to breathe his last within the walls of his own palace. He wanted to take his final breath in the arms of his beloved Menka, to see his brothers, his two mothers, and his two sisters one last time.

But fate seemed to have something else planned.

His vision began to blur. The darkness around him slowly swallowed everything, and just before his eyes could close completely, something caught his fading attention.

A violet light.

Someone was standing in front of him.

Shantanu could barely make out the figure. All he could see was the lower part of a strange black garment, unlike anything he had ever seen before, falling around the stranger's feet. The violet glow seemed to surround the figure, almost as though it was coming from them.

He couldn't see their face.

He didn't even know whether this stranger had come to save him or simply stood there to watch.

But at that moment, Shantanu's mind was too exhausted to question it. Logic had abandoned him. He couldn't remember where he was, how he had gotten there, or what had brought him to this place.

There was only one thought left in his mind.

He didn't want to die yet.

If this man could save him, Shantanu was willing to beg him for his life, no matter how much it cost him his pride.

With whatever strength remained, Shantanu tried to lift his head. His whole body protested, but he forced himself to look up, desperate to see the face of the stranger before him.

Just a little more.

He almost had it.

But before he could see who the stranger truly was, his strength finally gave out.

His head dropped back down, and his face met the cold, barren ground once again.

The violet light was the last thing his fading consciousness remembered.

And the man standing before Shantanu's lifeless body chuckled again.

But this chuckle was nothing like the ones before. There was bitterness buried within it, along with a strange, almost cruel amusement—as if he had heard every thought running through Shantanu's mind. As if he had heard his desperation to see his beloved Menka one last time, his longing to see his brothers, his two mothers, and his two sisters before death claimed him.

Yet amidst all that desperation, there had been no thought of his wife.

Not even once.

Not in his final moments. Not in his last memories. Not even in the place where a dying man instinctively holds on to the people who matter most to him. It was almost as though the woman who had spent years beside him, the Maharani of Mayuradish, held no place in his heart at all—as though she had never truly existed in his life.

The mysterious man lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

In an instant, Shantanu's motionless body turned to ash and disappeared into the suffocating air of that dreadful, barren land, leaving nothing behind.

The man watched the last traces of ash vanish, a mocking smile slowly appearing on his lips.

"Yeh toh abhi keval ek ant ka aarambh hai, Shantanu. Aapko apne kiye hue karmon ka pratifal avashya bhogna hoga." (This is merely the beginning of the end, Shantanu. You shall have to bear the consequences of the deeds you have committed.)

Thank you so much, my dear munchkines, for reading the first chapter! 🥹❤️ I hope you were able to understand the chapter. And if you found yourselves a little confused, don't worry—your confusion will be cleared in the next chapter. 😉

If you enjoyed the opening of the novel, don't forget to like and comment and, most importantly, share your thoughts with me. I genuinely love knowing what you all think while reading my stories. 🫶🏻

With love,
Your favourite author,
eclipse_cresent ✨