He wanted to choke the life out of them. Slowly.
It was all he could think of as he rode alone in the dark, his chest heaving. Behind him, he could see his men following him, but not too close. This was his fight, and his alone.
He halted his horse, and his Brahmshastra, a large golden blade and a thick breastplate, shimmered under the moonlight. It felt so fluid and soft over his body, and it seemed as if it had embraced him tightly. He looked at his men and at Holika on her horse, her twin swords sheathed on her back. A triumphant smile was spreading across her face.
Hiranya nodded to himself as he looked ahead. There was the house, a brick building standing in the lanes of his city. This was where everything had been sabotaged. This was where members of the Vishnusena had been last seen.
Hiranya had been told about this location by his spies, and he was here to destroy them and free his son, Prahlad. The boy who had opposed him, and then abandoned him.
After Anuhrad’s death, he had hoped that at least Prahlad would remain under his control, but he hadn’t. He had simply vanished. I’m coming for you, son. And I will save you from being brainwashed any further.
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