Marvel: Reborn in 20th century India

Chapter 97: Ch.96: Extracting Information about the Enemy



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Mirror Dimension

September 6, 1946

The silence in the silvery expanse shattered as Chhaya's expression twisted into pure rage. Aryan's casual, almost dismissive demeanor cut deeper than any insult. Her borrowed form trembled, the mortal vessel of Raghav Joshi unable to fully contain her growing fury.

"Tsk, this mortal form is beneath me," she snarled. Her voice reverberated unnaturally as the borrowed body of Raghav began to contort. The façade cracked and shattered like brittle glass, revealing her true form—a towering, spectral entity composed of dark, shifting energy. Her features were sharp and otherworldly, her eyes glowing with a malevolent light, and her body shimmered as though it were an amalgamation of fragmented mirrors.

Aryan, still seated, sipped his tea one last time before setting the cup down with deliberate care. With a small gesture, the broken body of Raghav vanished in a soft burst of light. "He'll be fine," Aryan said without looking at her. "Safely delivered to a secure place. No need to thank me."

Chhaya's form flared, her energy spiking. "You dare!" she roared, her voice shaking the reflective surfaces of the Mirror Dimension. "You think you can toy with me? With this place? I will obliterate you!"

Aryan sighed, standing slowly. "I'm beginning to think all your threats come from the same script," he said, his tone laced with faint amusement.

Her fury ignited, and she attacked without hesitation. She extended her arms, weaving the stolen powers of warriors and gods from countless dimensions into a chaotic, dazzling fusion of abilities. Ethereal chains lashed out, empowered with divine strength. Blades of light materialized in the air, slicing toward Aryan. Bolts of elemental energy crackled with destructive force, surging toward him in rapid succession.

Aryan didn't move. Each attack dissolved inches before reaching him, as though an invisible barrier nullified their existence. The chains shattered into harmless sparks, the blades of light disintegrated into motes, and the elemental bolts faded like dying embers.

Chhaya's attacks grew more frantic, her strikes faster and stronger, blending powers with desperation. Yet nothing landed. Aryan walked toward her, his movements deliberate, his expression calm.

"How—how are you doing this?" she demanded, her voice cracking with disbelief. She summoned an enormous vortex of combined energy, her most powerful creation yet, and hurled it toward Aryan. The vortex churned, glowing with chaotic fury, as it hurtled toward him.

Aryan raised a single hand, his fingers flicking slightly. The vortex unraveled, collapsing into harmless fragments that dissolved into the Mirror Dimension's reflective surfaces.

Chhaya staggered back, her confidence unraveling as swiftly as her attacks. "This isn't possible. I've fused powers far beyond comprehension! You should be—"

"Should be what?" Aryan interrupted, his voice calm but carrying a razor-sharp edge. He stopped mere feet from her, his golden eyes glowing faintly. "Overwhelmed? Dead? Let me make this clear—you're playing a game you don't understand."

He extended his hand, and the air around Chhaya shimmered. Her movements froze as an invisible force bound her. Her form flickered, her energy struggling against his grip.

"I didn't come here to trade blows endlessly," Aryan said, his voice now laced with authority. "Enough of this."

He placed his hand over his chest, and a faint, dark aura emanated from him—a fragment of his power. The Mirror Dimension trembled as his soul manipulation abilities, enhanced by forbidden knowledge from the Darkhold, took hold.

Chhaya screamed as the force wrapped around her soul, compelling her to answer. Her defiance flared briefly, but Aryan's mastery was absolute.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with!" she spat, her voice strained. "I won't betray my master—"

Aryan's expression hardened further, his power tightening. "Your master is an Asura King, isn't he? Tell me about him, his powers, and your objective here. Speak."

The grip on her soul constricted, and Chhaya's resistance wavered. Her form flickered, her energy destabilizing under Aryan's relentless control. Finally, she relented, her voice a low, venomous hiss.

"Bhishanara," she spat. "The Asura King you seek is Bhishanara. And my objective? To prepare this world for his reign. To ensure the chaos he needs to thrive."

She laughed maniacally, her voice dripping with madness. "He is powerful! Beyond anyone's comprehension. Immortal, as long as Patal Lok stands, no one can defeat him! He manipulates fundamental concepts and reality itself. And as long as there are sins in mortals, he grows stronger! No one can beat him! No one!"

Aryan's gaze darkened as her words echoed in the Mirror Dimension. He released his grip slightly, allowing her form to stabilize. "Good," he said softly, almost to himself. "That's all I needed to hear."

Chhaya's energy surged again, but Aryan's power flared, binding her in place once more. His expression was cold and unyielding. "You've done enough damage for one day. Your time here is over."

With a final wave of his hand, the Mirror Dimension rippled, and Chhaya's form began to fragment, her essence unraveling under Aryan's control.

"Arrgh—" Her scream echoed one last time before she was ejected from the dimension, her presence dissipating into nothingness.

Aryan exhaled slowly, the tension in the Mirror Dimension easing. He turned, his gaze distant as he murmured to himself, "Bhishanara… Huh, it seems the chaos is only beginning."

With a gesture, the Mirror Dimension shimmered and faded, leaving Aryan standing alone in a quiet reflection of reality. He had long been contemplating the nature of the Asura King's powers, and with this sudden fortune of useful information, he was determined to create new powers and abilities—not only for himself but also for his allies—to destroy this threat once and for all.

The air was heavy as Aryan stepped out of the Mirror Dimension and back into the real world. The faint hum of the dimensional barrier faded behind him, replaced by the distant sounds of rebuilding efforts. He didn't waste time. With a simple gesture, a faint golden sigil appeared beneath his feet, and moments later, he materialized at the sprawling headquarters of KAVACH, to take stock of the aftermath and evaluate their response and to improvise where they had erred.

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