"In the end, even gods must listen to silence."
---
Ash covered the earth. Not as death, but as soil—rich with the weight of suffering and memory.
The world stood still.
The Veil was gone.
The gods had retreated. The mortals remained.
And Asma-Ra—once warrior, once rebel—sat alone beneath the great Kala-Vyatha Tree. The Sutra Blade rested beside him, no longer glowing. It had fulfilled its purpose.
He did not feel triumph. Only quiet.
---
The survivors gathered slowly. No banners. No chants. Just people—eyes wide open, some weeping, some laughing, none kneeling.
They did not worship Asma-Ra.
They did not fear him.
They understood him.
> "What now?" a child asked.
He did not answer immediately.
Instead, he opened his hand—and in it was the seed.
The one given to him by the first monk he'd ever met, in that forgotten temple of silence.
The one he had carried through death and war and doubt.
The seed of truth.
He pressed it into the earth.
---
Time passed—briefly and eternally.
The seed grew.
Not into a tree. Not into a god.
But into a mirror—shaped like a flower. Every person who looked into it saw their soul. Not their sins. Not their fate.
Just themselves.
And many wept.
---
In the far reaches of the cosmos, Shiva smiled.
He did not destroy the world.
He let it change.
Brahma closed the last book.
Vishnu withdrew from the dream.
And in the silence that followed,
A new age began.
One not of gods and chains—
But of seekers and mirrors.
---
Final Words of Asma-Ra:
> "The gods are not above you.
The demons are not beneath you.
You are the blade. You are the wound.
You are the seed. You are the flame.
Wake up. Walk forward. Never kneel again."
---
THE END
Ashvattha: The Veil of Dharma – A Soulslike Saga