(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

Guys we have reached 100 Chapter successfully with your support. I hope we reach reach 250 powerstones help me guys...

I was thinking about adding local deities too to the story. Any thought about This idea.

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The words of the astrologers struck the chamber like another bolt of lightning.

For a moment—Nobody spoke. Nobody could.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Dhritarashtra’s expression hardened instantly while Madri instinctively moved closer protectively toward her husband and newborn son.

Nearby, Ambika and Ambalika looked visibly shaken hearing the ominous declaration.

The storm outside only made the atmosphere heavier.

-RUMBLE!

Dhritarashtra slowly tightened his grip around the infant prince.

His voice when he finally spoke had lost all earlier warmth.

"What do you mean... bad omen?"

The astrologers immediately tensed further.

Several lowered their heads quickly.

Because this was the most dangerous kind of truth to speak before royalty.

One wrong word—One poorly chosen phrase—And they could easily be accused of slandering the newborn heir of the Kuru lineage.

The eldest astrologer swallowed nervously before carefully choosing every word.

-Gulp!

"We speak only what the heavens revealed, Crown Prince."

"We hold no ill intention toward the child."

Another astrologer stepped forward shakily and continued.

"The planetary alignments at the moment of birth ...were deeply disturbed. The skies darkened unnaturally. The sacred flames throughout Hastinapur extinguished themselves."

"The storm intensified the instant the prince emerged."

"The stars..."

He hesitated briefly trying to find the right words to put in.

"...carry signs of destruction surrounding the Kuru lineage."

The chamber grew colder and colder.

Madri’s face paled immediately hearing those words connected to her child.

"...."

Dhritarashtra meanwhile stared at the astrologers silently.

"...."

The atmosphere became suffocating.

Yet the astrologers knew they could no longer stop halfway.

The eldest finally lowered his gaze and completed the prediction carefully.

"All omens together signify ...that this prince may one day lead the Kuru lineage toward ruin."

Silence. Absolute silence followed once again.

"....."

"....."

"....."

Even the storm outside seemed distant for a brief moment.

The words hung inside the chamber like poison.

Madri immediately looked toward her child with disbelief and pain in her eyes.

"How can you say that?"

She whispered emotionally.

"He is only a newborn..."

Ambika closed her eyes briefly while Ambalika looked deeply unsettled.

Feeling the curse to the throne might return through the kuru lineage

Meanwhile Dhritarashtra’s face slowly darkened.

"...."

Not with grief. With anger on fate which was enjoying his suffering.

Because after finally receiving his son—After finally feeling destiny acknowledge him—

The first thing the heavens offered in return was a prophecy of doom.

The irony tasted bitter. Very bitter.

Which nearly forcing him to lose his mind.

The infant prince meanwhile slept calmly in his father’s arms completely unaware that the moment of his birth had already become wrapped in fear, prophecy, and political danger.

And outside the cavern chamber—

The dark storm above Hastinapur continued raging across the skies as though the heavens themselves refused to settle peacefully on the night Suryodana entered the world.

The tension inside the cavern chamber had become suffocating.

The storm outside continued roaring over Hastinapur while the newborn prince Suryodana rested peacefully in his father’s arms, unaware that his very birth had already shaken the kingdom.

Dhritarashtra’s face had darkened dangerously after hearing the astrologers’ prediction.

And Ambika immediately noticed it.

She had lived long enough within royal politics to recognize when emotion was about to become dangerous.

Especially wounded pride. Especially parental rage.

Before Dhritarashtra could speak again—Ambika stepped forward sharply.

"Enough."

Her voice carried firm authority.

The astrologers instantly lowered their heads further.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Ambika’s eyes briefly moved toward Dhritarashtra.

She could see it clearly now.

The anger. The hurt.

The refusal to accept such words spoken over his firstborn son moments after birth.

If the conversation continued recklessly—Someone here might not leave the chamber alive.

So Ambika deliberately redirected the discussion.

Her expression softened slightly as she looked toward the astrologers.

"If the omens are troubled ...then is there no remedy?"

The question immediately shifted the atmosphere.

Even Madri looked toward the astrologers hopefully now.

"...."

Ambika continued carefully.

"Can rituals be performed? Can prayers be offered? Can temples be visited to soothe the displeasure of the heavens?"

"Surely fate is not so absolute."

The astrologers exchanged uneasy glances among themselves instantly.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Because now they had entered truly dangerous territory.

Not merely interpretation—But responsibility.

If they answered wrongly, they risked offending the royal family.

If they gave false hope carelessly, they risked angering destiny itself.

Several remained silent for long moments.

The eldest astrologer finally spoke cautiously.

"Rajmata..."

"There are always paths through dharma, prayer, charity, and devotion that may lessen the harshness of fate."

That answer visibly eased the chamber slightly.

Madri especially clung to those words immediately.

The astrologer however quickly continued before hope could grow uncontrolled.

"But..."

Again the room tightened.

"Some destinies are like rivers. One may redirect their flow slightly ...yet stopping them completely becomes difficult."

Dhritarashtra’s jaw tightened hearing that.

Still, the astrologers now carefully began listing possible remedies.

Special yajnas.

Charitable offerings across the kingdom.

Protection rituals. Temple worship.

Appeasing planetary influences through sacred rites.

Feeding the poor. Supporting Brahmins and sages.

Seeking blessings from spiritually powerful figures.

The eldest astrologer finally added carefully.

"If the prince is guided properly..."

"...if wisdom surrounds him... if anger and pride are restrained..."

"...then perhaps the harshness of the omens may lessen."

That final statement lingered heavily within the chamber.

Because everyone present understood the hidden implication.

The danger might not lie merely in the child’s birth—But in the path he could someday choose.

Meanwhile the infant Suryodana shifted lightly in Dhritarashtra’s arms.

The future king looked down at his son silently.

"...."

The storm still raged outside.

But inside the cavern chamber—A different storm had already begun forming quietly within the hearts of the Kuru family.

The heavy silence inside the guarded cavern chamber refused to ease.

Outside, thunder still rolled across the skies above Hastinapur while the sacred lamps flickered weakly against the stone walls.

Sensing the atmosphere worsening further, Ambalika stepped forward calmly toward Madri.

"Take the child,"

She said gently.

"Let him rest."

Madri immediately nodded.

-Nod!

Carefully, she received baby Suryodana into her arms protectively.

Despite the terrifying words spoken moments earlier—The infant looked peaceful.

Small. Fragile. Entirely innocent from what they had said.

Madri’s heart tightened painfully.

Because no mother wished to hear that her child’s birth carried shadows over an entire dynasty.

Slowly she moved toward the specially prepared resting bed lined with soft cloth and sacred protective markings drawn around it by priests earlier.

Meanwhile, at the center of the chamber, Ambika turned back toward the astrologers.

Unlike before—Her face had grown more serious now.

Because she noticed something deeply troubling.

The astrologers were still holding back. Carefully. Fearfully.

"...."

And that frightened her more than the prophecy itself.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"How severe are these omens truly?"

The question struck the chamber heavily.

The astrologers exchanged uneasy glances immediately.

No one answered. Not because they lacked interpretation—But because they feared speaking it aloud.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Slowly, almost involuntarily, their eyes shifted toward Dhritarashtra.

He stood motionless nearby.

But the anger radiating from him had become unmistakable now.

His fists were clenched tightly.

His jaw rigid. His breathing uneven.

The joy of fatherhood had collided brutally against fear for his lineage.

And the astrologers understood something clearly:

One wrong sentence—One badly chosen word—Could end disastrously for them.

So they remained silent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

That silence alone told Ambika more than any answer could.

Her heart sank slightly.

Because silence from astrologers often meant the truth was worse than what had already been spoken.

Seeing their troubled expressions and Dhritarashtra’s growing fury, Ambika immediately acted again.

This time her voice carried unmistakable authority.

"Dhritarashtra."

The future king slowly looked toward her.

"Go to your son."

For a moment, it seemed he might refuse.

The anger in his eyes still burned intensely.

But eventually—Without another word—Dhritarashtra turned and walked silently toward where Madri sat beside the infant bed.

The moment he reached the child and looked down at his newborn son again—Some of the fury within his face softened.

Only slightly. But enough.

Because regardless of omens... Regardless of storms... Regardless of prophecies...

This was still his child.

His firstborn. His heir.

And nearby, the astrologers quietly exhaled in relief.

Because for the moment at least—The storm inside the chamber had not exploded yet.

The moment Dhritarashtra moved away toward his newborn son, the astrologers visibly relaxed.

Several quietly released breaths they had been holding.

Because only now did they dare speak more openly.

The eldest astrologer slowly turned back toward Ambika and Ambalika.

His face had grown grave. Very grave.

"The prediction..."

He paused carefully.

"...is far more severe than we initially revealed."

The air inside the cavern chamber seemed to grow colder.

Outside, thunder echoed again through the night skies above Hastinapur.

The astrologer lowered his voice further.

"The omens suggest a future where this vast land... will drown in blood."

Ambalika’s expression stiffened instantly.

"...."

Another astrologer continued shakily.

"The destruction does not end with war alone. The signs indicate the fall of the Kuru lineage itself."

Silence.

Heavy. Oppressive.

Even the priests nearby looked deeply unsettled hearing the complete interpretation spoken aloud at last.

Meanwhile in the distance, the soft cries of infant Suryodana echoed faintly through the chamber.

The contrast between innocent life and catastrophic prophecy felt deeply disturbing.

The eldest astrologer quickly continued before panic could fully settle.

"But fate is not fully fixed. The child must be guided with extreme care."

"His upbringing... His influences... His path ...must all be watched carefully. If he strays toward darkness..."

The astrologer’s face paled slightly.

"...then no one may be able to save the Kuru lineage."

Those words struck heavily.

Because now the burden no longer sounded like a distant prophecy.

It sounded personal. Preventable. Or perhaps inevitable.

Then reluctantly—One astrologer spoke something none of them truly wished to mention.

"In ancient histories ...there are records where kingdoms sacrificed infants born beneath catastrophic omens ...to protect the lineage and realm."

The moment those words left his mouth—Ambika stepped forward sharply.

"Enough."

Her voice cut through the chamber instantly.

Firm. Cold. Absolute. Hearing those words.

The astrologers immediately lowered their heads.

Ambika’s face had hardened completely now.

"Do not speak further of such things."

The cave fell silent again. Her eyes carried unmistakable anger.

"It is adharma1. He is an infant. A child who has done nothing wrong."

Her voice trembled slightly at the end, not from weakness—But emotion.

Because despite the terrifying prophecy...

She could not accept condemning a newborn merely for what the stars predicted.

Ambalika silently nodded beside her.

Even she looked disturbed that such thoughts had entered the conversation at all.

Nearby, Madri instinctively held Suryodana closer protectively after overhearing enough to understand the direction the discussion had taken.

Meanwhile Dhritarashtra slowly turned his head from beside the infant bed.

Though silent—The darkness in his expression upon hearing those words was unmistakable.

Because now someone had dared suggest sacrificing his son.

And that was something he would never forgive easily.

The astrologers quickly bowed deeply.

"We intended no disrespect, Rajmata."

"We merely spoke of historical precedents."

But the damage had already been done.

The chamber no longer merely carried fear of prophecy.

Now it carried something even more dangerous.

Protectiveness. Parental attachment.

Defiance against fate itself.

And somewhere beyond the storm-dark skies above Hastinapur—

Destiny listened silently while the first battle over the future of Suryodana had already begun.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.