The ruins of the Tower of Silence still smoldered, embers floating into the dawn like fireflies mourning the dead. Bahubali stood over the last body, his sword buried deep in the blackened soil. His armor was bloodstained, but his eyes gleamed—not with vengeance, but with purpose.
He turned to Aravan, now standing tall beside him, no longer the unsure hunter but a warrior forged in flame.
"It begins now," Bahubali said. "No more waiting. No more whispers."
In the Heart of Mahishmati
Bhallaladeva sat stiffly on his obsidian throne, the message from the Tower clutched in his iron fist. The crushed lion's tooth left a smear of red across his palm.
He was silent, boiling inside. Every general, every advisor stood still, unsure of what to say.
Then Bhallaladeva stood. Slowly. Deliberately.
"Burn the outer villages. Kill the traders. Starve the rebels."
A general hesitated. "But, my king… the people—"
"Are expendable," Bhallaladeva snapped. "Bahubali wants war? He will find nothing left to save."
He turned his venomous gaze toward the dungeon stairs.
"And bring Devasena to me."
Devasena's Dungeon Cell
She was dragged into the throne room by chains once more—pale but still unbroken. Her eyes locked with Bhallaladeva's, and she showed no fear.
"You look surprised," she said, voice calm. "Were you expecting me to beg?"
"I was expecting you to understand your place," Bhallaladeva hissed. "The people worship you like some goddess, but I will make them forget your name."
"You can burn scrolls. You can kill bards. But you cannot kill the truth."
He slapped her. Hard.
But this time, she bled not in silence—but with a defiant smile.
"And every drop will bring him closer."
Bhallaladeva stepped back, disturbed.
"You will watch this kingdom fall," he growled.
"I already did," she whispered. "The day you sat on that throne."
Meanwhile – The Resistance Camp
Back in the jungle beyond the ruins of the Tower, Bahubali met with his inner circle: Aravan, Devasena's mother, Tanthav the scribe, and the captains of three rebel tribes who had secretly arrived under nightfall.
Tanthav laid out the map on the stone table, his hands trembling with age but steady with intent.
"This is the underground path," he explained. "A forgotten tunnel once used by the old scribes to escape the palace during times of invasion. It leads directly beneath the temple walls, just three corridors from the Queen's Wing."
Bahubali studied the map with burning focus.
"She's being held there. I feel it."
Aravan stepped forward. "Let me go in first. I'll scout it. If it's safe, I'll signal."
Bahubali looked at him with the eyes of a brother, not just a commander.
"You've already risked much."
"And I would again," Aravan replied. "For her. For the people. For you."
Nightfall – The Silent Infiltration
Under cover of a storm, three shadows crept through the overgrown roots of the jungle floor and entered the narrow stone tunnel. Aravan led them, followed by two scouts, both fast as panthers and silent as smoke.
They moved through filth, rat nests, and damp bones. The tunnel had not been used in decades. But the path was still open.
Finally, Aravan reached a crumbling stairwell.
He climbed… crept…
And saw her.
Devasena.
Chained to a stone pillar. Guarded by two spearmen. Blood dried on her lip, but her eyes were wide open—watching the storm flash outside her window.
He signaled the others.
Within moments, Bahubali descended like judgment itself.
The two guards didn't have a chance. One was taken down with a flying blade, the other by Bahubali's fist.
Chains shattered under his sword.
And then… silence.
Their eyes met.
She rose, slowly, her wrists shaking, lips trembling. "You… you're here."
He caught her.
"I told you I'd come."
She sobbed once. Then again. Then laughed—weak, shaking, alive.
"I never stopped believing."
He touched her forehead. "And I never stopped loving."
Behind them, the storm raged.
The Escape – Blaze and Blood
But it wasn't over.
As they turned toward the tunnel, horns blew in the distance. Bhallaladeva had sensed something. He had set a trap.
Arrows rained from the halls. Aravan was struck in the shoulder but kept running. Bahubali carried Devasena over the bridge of the old aqueduct as guards poured in from every side.
Just when it seemed they would be surrounded—
BOOM!
Flames burst from the palace gates. The Hidden Ones had launched their surprise assault.
The palace was under siege.
Bahubali roared, lifting Devasena in his arms and leaping from the crumbling wall into the river below.
Behind him, Aravan tossed a lit torch into the archway.
The tunnel collapsed in flame—cutting off pursuit.
Final Scene: Safe, but Not Done
The river carried them far downstream. By dawn, Devasena lay wrapped in cloaks by a fire, safe in the heart of the rebel camp. Her son was carried to her—crying, reaching, calling her name.
Tears fell freely now. Mother. Child. Father.
Together.
Bahubali knelt before them. He took a dagger. Carved a mark into his own palm. A blood oath.
"To every soul Bhallaladeva has crushed," he said, voice thick with fury, "I swear this war ends with him on his knees."
And the fire crackled as if in agreement.