A storm brewed on the horizon. The air was thick with tension, the leaves whispering as if they knew something the rebels didn't. Aravan stood motionless beneath the swaying branches, his eyes locked on a distant flicker of torchlight beyond the trees.
Mahishmati soldiers were moving again.
But that wasn't what unsettled him.
He sensed something worse.
Behind him, a scout emerged from the shadows, her face pale.
"Sir," she whispered. "We've seen it."
Aravan turned.
"Light signals. Near the southern cliffs. Three long flashes. Two short."
A chill ran down his spine.
"That's not ours," he said.
"No," she replied. "And it's been happening every night."
At the Rebel Camp ..Bahubali's Tent
Bahubali was at his desk, drawing a battle formation on a worn map, when Devasena stepped inside. Her face was calm, but her voice was edged with worry.
"You're planning a raid on the Western Outpost."
He didn't look up.
"It's the only place their new siege machines are being assembled. If they deploy them, they'll wipe out half the resistance before we even reach the gates."
She stepped closer.
"Then send others. You've led enough battles. If you die now, everything dies with you."
Bahubali finally looked at her, eyes heavy but steady.
"I can't ask them to do what I'm not willing to do myself."
Devasena reached for his hand.
"Then promise me. If the trap is too deep... you run."
He hesitated.Then nodded.
"I promise."
Moments Later ...Aravan Enters
"There's something you both need to hear," Aravan said, stepping into the tent. His expression was grim.
He tossed a leather pouch onto the table. Bahubali opened it. Inside were scraps of parchment and a broken seal with the Mahishmati crest.
"Someone's been leaking our plans."
Devasena's breath caught.
"Who?"
Aravan's jaw tightened.
"We tracked the signals. Found the buried messages. It's not just some passing spy. It's someone inside our command."
Pre-Dawn ... The Rebel Council
Tension rippled through the circle of warriors as the accused was brought forward.Ravim.
A former palace guard. Loyal. Quiet. Trusted.
Bahubali's eyes narrowed. "Tell me it's not true."
Ravim looked straight ahead, emotionless.
"You speak of loyalty. But where was loyalty when we starved? When you disappeared and left us beneath Bhallaladeva's boot?"
"You chose gold over blood," Aravan said coldly.
Ravim shrugged.
"I chose survival."
The room went silent. Then Bahubali turned to the people.
"Let it be the people's judgment."
Later, before dawn, Ravim was gone. Executed quietly in the woods. The rebellion would move forward, but now... with eyes wide open.
The March West ....A New Fire
Bahubali's strike force moved under heavy fog toward the Western Outpost. They numbered few but swift, handpicked by Aravan and trained in silence and speed. The terrain was steep, rough, and unforgiving.
At the front, Bahubali walked alone.
Devasena had remained behind, holding the camp together, watching over their son, commanding respect in every breath.
As the rebels reached the base of the hill overlooking the outpost, Bahubali raised his hand.
Below them were stockpiles of weapons, guarded by Bhallaladeva's black-armored elite.
"Tonight," Bahubali said, his voice low and firm, "we strike not to destroy—but to disrupt. We take their edge away."
"And if they fight back?" a young soldier asked.
Bahubali's eyes never left the valley.
"Then we remind them who we are."
Final Scene ...Inside the Palace of Mahishmati
Bhallaladeva stood in his war chamber, a fire roaring behind him. His iron-gloved hands rested on the table as a messenger entered, bruised and breathless.
"They executed the traitor. Ravim. He was caught."
Bhallaladeva gave a humorless smile.
"Let them think they've won something."
He moved to the window, looking out over the city, now under lockdown.
"One traitor is easy to kill. But an idea?"
He turned back toward the map of the rebel territories and placed a dagger at its center.
"Crush the spirit. And the flesh will fall."