Beneath the Palace: The Forbidden Chamber
The stone door groaned open, dust spilling like ancient breath from its frame. Inside, the air was thick with old blood and smoke from long-dead fires.
Bhallaladeva stood at the threshold, cloaked in crimson, his eyes locked on the altar untouched for over a century.
Before him, priests chanted in tongues long forgotten. Their skin was etched with sigils, their voices dry and cracked like bone.
They circled the pit.
Chains rattled.
The floor began to tremble.
Then came a growl. Not from man. Not from beast. Something in between. Something worse.
Flames erupted from the cracks in the stone, and from the blaze it rose—a monstrous creature with molten skin, armor forged from dragon bone, and a mask crafted from the skull of a fallen king.
The War Beast had returned.
Bhallaladeva stepped forward.
"You serve me now. You bring them fire. You bring me their ashes."
The creature blinked. Two burning coals glowed behind the mask. It nodded once.
Rebel Camp: Morning Storm
Rain fell gently, hissing against the dying embers of last night's battle.
Bahubali stood in the clearing, sharpening his blade. Sparks flew with every stroke.
Across from him, Aravan winced as his wound was treated. Devasena, her hair braided and armor strapped tight across her shoulders, stepped beside her son and kissed his forehead.
"I'm done hiding," she said. "This fight is mine too."
Tanthav the scribe spread the map across a stone slab.
"We strike from three directions. East through the Ashen Gate. West, where the river wall is weakest. And the third... straight through the front."
Bahubali looked up.
"That one's mine."
Just then, a messenger burst into the tent, soaked and breathless.
"They're moving," he gasped. "Something massive. It's coming from the palace."
Bahubali rose slowly.
"Let it come."
The First Sighting: Blood Moon Plains
By dusk, scouts returned from the northern hills, their faces pale with fear.
"What did you see?" Bahubali asked.
One dropped to his knees.
"It walked through a herd of buffalo… and they died. Just like that. No touch. Nothing."
Another added in a whisper, "Where its feet touched, fire followed. The earth won't grow there anymore."
The sky darkened.
And thunder rolled. Not from clouds, but from the War Beast's march.
Nightfall: The Clash Begins
They came like shadows rolling over a drowning world.
The War Beast led the charge. A tower of fire and rage moved through trees and flame. Behind it marched Bhallaladeva's elite guard, clad in obsidian armor, roaring across the plains.
The rebels braced.
Bahubali met the creature head-on.
Their weapons collided. Steel struck enchanted stone. The ground split beneath their feet.
The impact threw warriors aside like dry leaves.
But Bahubali stood his ground.
He twisted, dodged, struck again. His blade screeched across the beast's armor, throwing sparks into the wind.
The War Beast lifted a flaming mace and swung. Bahubali ducked low, rolled under it, and drove his blade beneath the creature's ribs.
The beast roared.
The sky lit with fire.
From the side, Aravan rode in and hurled a spear into its leg. The creature staggered.
Devasena's archers unleashed a volley of arrows, each tip coated in oil and marked with prayer.
The War Beast screamed and slammed the ground. A shockwave rippled across the battlefield, knocking some to their knees.
But Bahubali rose again. His eyes reflected the flames.
"I faced death once," he growled. "And I came back."
He leaped.
His sword sang through the air.
And crashed into the creature's mask, splitting it in two.
The War Beast shrieked.
For the first time, it felt pain.
Final Scene: The Aftershock
The beast retreated, wounded but far from defeated.
Bhallaladeva watched from a high tower, his fists clenched at his sides.
"They will not survive the next strike," he muttered.
Back at the rebel camp, Bahubali stood beneath the flickering torchlight, blade lowered but spirit unshaken.
Devasena walked toward him, her eyes wide.
"You fought the thing of legend."
He looked at her, steady as ever.
"No. I fought the first of many. And I'm not done yet."
Far off in the night, thunder cracked. Lightning danced along the horizon.
The real war had only just begun.
...