not_lexii78
A BAHUBALI AU
Prologue: The Threads Between Worlds
In the beginning, there were two worlds.
One forged by destiny, drenched in the blood of warriors and the roar of kingdoms-the world of Mahishmati, where honor, power, and betrayal carved history into stone. The other, seemingly ordinary, ran on Wi-Fi signals and caffeine, where battles were fought through job applications and deadlines rather than swords and chariots.
But the threads of fate are stubborn. And sometimes, the past refuses to stay buried.
Long ago, a seer spoke of a time when Mahishmati would tremble again-not by war, but by the slow unraveling of its soul. She warned of a prince, mighty in strength but hollow in spirit. A man shaped by shadows, too broken to reach for the light on his own.
She also spoke of the Four. Strangers from another realm. Souls that did not belong, and yet-did. Guided not by prophecy alone, but by wit, chaos, and a tendency to stumble into greatness without meaning to. They would not be warriors. Not at first. They would be something stranger. Something the old world had forgotten.
Hope.
Many dismissed the prophecy, tucked it away in crumbling scrolls and dusty temples. After all, the age of magic and miracles had long passed. Or so it was believed.
But prophecies are patient things.
And on one particularly stormy Sunday afternoon, in a world full of sarcasm, snacks, and smart-mouthed twenty-somethings... it began.
Not with thunder.
Not with fire.
But with the ring of a doorbell-and an old woman who asked for souls.