Nitya felt suffocated by the weight of her impossible mission, her heart constricted by desperation. As the darkness seemed to closing in around her, she shut her eyes, seeking refuge in the stillness. With a whispered plea, she reached out to the one being she knew could save her: "Maa!" a word escaped her mouth. "Mahakali," she implored, her voice barely audible, "help me. Grant me the strength to carry on."
As Nitya's plea hung in the air, a warm, golden light enveloped her, and Mahakali's resplendent form materialized before her. This time, the goddess didn't appear as just a shadowy figure; instead, Nitya beheld her in all her divine glory. Mahakali's eyes burned with a fierce compassion and strength, illuminating the dark space with an ethereal glow.
The goddess's raven-haired tresses cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, framing her face with an otherworldly beauty. Her eyes, two glittering rubies, shone with a fierce inner light, radiating a sense of power that was both captivating and intimidating. Yet, despite her formidable appearance, Mahakali's countenance exuded a deep sense of gentleness and kindness, as if she held the very essence of feminine power and nurturing within her being.
Mahakali's voice was like a soothing balm, calming Nitya's fears and doubts. "Do not be afraid, child," the goddess said, her words dripping with gentle reassurance. "I reside within you, a spark of the divine that burns brightly. You do not need to seek external powers to vanquish evil, for the power to overcome lies within you. Recognize this inner strength, and you shall become Shakti incarnate – a embodiment of the divine feminine power that can conquer even the darkest of forces."
Mahakali's words ignited a spark within Nitya. She felt an inner strength stirring, a power waiting to be unleashed. Her breathing slowed, her mind clearing.
With renewed determination, Nitya freed herself from her restraints. She broke through the door, determined to rescue the imprisoned girls. The wooden door splintered, shards flying everywhere.
The politician's men, caught off guard, stumbled backward as Nitya fought her way through. She disarmed and disabled them with surprising ease, her movements fluid and deadly. Her hands struck true, targeting vulnerable spots.
But the politician himself remained, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You fools!" he spat. "You think you can stop me? I'll sell these girls, and no one will ever stop me!"
Nitya stood tall, her heart pounding. Mahakali's voice echoed in her mind: "Don't be afraid, recognise your inner strength and become the Shakti yourself."
Summoning every ounce of courage, Nitya opened her eyes, now blazing red like embers. The politician recoiled, sensing the fury within her.
With a fierce cry, Nitya charged forward. Her hands became weapons, striking down the politician's men. Bones cracked, bodies fell.
The politician, enraged by Nitya's fearless takedown of his goons, snatched one of the kidnapped girls and held her hostage. He pressed the cold blade of a knife against the girl's trembling neck, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"Stop right there, Nitya," he sneered. "If you take one more step, I'll slit her throat."
Nitya's heart skipped a beat as she froze, her eyes locked on the terrified girl. The politician began to manipulate her, his words dripping with venom.
"What's the point of all this, Nitya? Even if you somehow manage to expose me, who will believe you? You're just a young girl from a poor family. I have power, influence, and connections. I'll crush you and your family like the insignificant insects you are."
He paused, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.
"You're no match for me, Nitya. I'll always win. So, save this girl's life and walk away. Forget about the whole thing. It's the smartest thing you can do."
As the politician's words echoed in her mind, Nitya felt a sudden chill run down her spine. It was as if she had heard those exact words before, but couldn't quite place where. And then, like a floodgate opening, a long-forgotten memory came rushing back.
She was 13 years old, sitting alone in her classroom, immersed in her studies. The principal, a man widely respected by the community, walked in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. He began to praise her, telling her what a brilliant student she was, and how she had a bright future ahead of her.
At first, Nitya felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, but as the principal closed in, his proximity making her feel uncomfortable, she began to feel a growing sense of unease. She tried to stand up, to create some distance between them, but the principal was too quick. He grabbed her hand, holding it in a grip that was both firm and unyielding.
Nitya tried to pull away, but the principal refused to let go. Panic began to set in as she realized she was trapped. She asked him to leave her alone, but he just smiled, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. She warned him that if he don't leave her hand then she will shout.
And then, he spoke the words that would haunt her for years to come: "Who would believe you, a student, over me, the principal? I have a spotless reputation, and you're just a child. No one will take your word over mine."
Nitya's heart sank as she realized the principal was right. She was just a child, and he was a respected authority figure. Who would believe her? The feeling of powerlessness and helplessness washed over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and scared.
Now, as she stood facing the politician, she felt that same sense of vulnerability and fear. Her mind racing, Nitya's body froze in fear. Her legs felt like lead, refusing to move, and her arms hung limp at her sides. She was paralyzed by the sheer weight of her memories, unable to take a step forward or utter a word.
