The deep silence of the night wrapped itself around the dense forest like an old shawl. Above, the stars blinked faintly through the canopy, and down below, under the crackling halogen lights set atop temporary poles, Vikram Das and Mona moved like determined shadows against the blackened walls of the ruined Kali temple.
Buckets sloshed, brushes scraped, and ancient dust was banished from once-sacred stone. They had spent the entire night here—scrubbing, documenting, unveiling the history that time had tried to swallow.
"Who would've thought we'd end up cleaning an entire temple?" Mona said with a tired laugh, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Vikram gave her a sideways glance and smirked. "It's not just cleaning. It's… uncovering. Reviving. This temple… has a heart. We're making it beat again."
Mona turned and looked up at the towering idol just outside the core chamber—darkened by years of neglect, yet still radiating an unspeakable energy.
