'Death is such a powerful thing, isn't it? It can take lives away, it can renew and refresh lives, it can change worlds, and start them too. And most of all, it can reduce adamant stubborness to shambles. Because regret only comes through once a person cannot express it.'

No sound, however, was more prominent, perhaps, than Indrajit's obnoxious laughter. He stood atop his chariot, cocky as ever, one hand on the crook of his hip as he watched the spectacle below. It was all a spectacle to him, wasn't it? He had killed thousands, maybe millions. This was all a show. A mere act. He was like a sponge, gloating in the sunlight, absorbing all of the cheers of his army. "Rajkumari Indrajit ki, Jai ho!"

"Jai ho!" he cackled. "Jai ho!" And then, he put one hand up abruptly. The loud sounds behind him stopped, and he pointed to the ground. "Take me there," In seconds, he was next to Lakshman's limp body. Stepping out of the golden structure, Indrajit spun his long clothing around his arm and strutted closer, like a peacock showing off his feathers. Much like a panther would eye dead prey, Indrajit studied the lifeless body of Lakshman.

His face was pale. A pale white, paler than it normally was. His hair, perfect, yet messy as ever, lay splay behind him, and his arms were positioned so that it appeared as if Lakshman was merely sleeping. But everybody knew he wasn't. Lakshman hadn't slept for fourteen years. They had never spotted him resting. And now, finally seeing his eyes close, there was only one reason. And that was the spear planted right in his heart.

"You and your monkey army thought this could defeat me?" Indrajit guffawed. His voice was like poison to the vanars, who shuffled uneasily as they eyed the scene. 'It's just an illusion,' some whispered. 'He is trying, unwittingly, to trick us again, isn't he? Lakshman bhaiyya couldn't be defeated this easily.' So they all watched the illusion, not doing anything as Indrajit stared down at Lakshman's body.

Somehow, when he towered over Lakshman, his shadow did not show up on the man's body. It just disappeared. No God would allow such a disgrace to happen to this man. Huffing, Indrajit kneeled down. Hidden in his hand was another dagger. "Perhaps when your own leaders die, you can cremate them and mourn them. But my father will be most pleased to have this spoil of war."

Indrajit stood up, and ordered his lackeys to pick Lakshman up. They walked towards the dead body, five strong, and tried to lift him. Key word: tried. Because Lakshman, it seemed, was suddenly a thousand pound boulder. As they tried in vain to pick him up, Blood began to gush out of the wound. Still, even as ten more came to help, alkshman refused to be lifted. And somewhere, up above in heaven, Gods gagged, stepping away from the scene in disgust. "Trying to take Sheshnag?" Narad whispered. "As a spoil of war? Impossible. The day I see his honor lost is the day the world ends."

"Useless!" Indrajit barked as his goons retreated. "Let me try!" But the moment he reached down and tried to pick Lakshman up, a flying missile barreled into him. Indrajit flew back, and stared at the perpetrator. Staring at him, breathing heavily, his lip curled dangerously, was Hanuman, exhaling loudly.

"How dare you?" the vanar hissed. "How dare you?" With another kick, Indrajit was securely on the ground, and Hanuman himself reached down and lifted Lakshman. "You'd better hope, Meghnad, that when we kill you, your remains aren't so unrecognizable that your family cannot even perform your final rights." he murmured.

His voice was quiet when he usually would have shouted, angered and thundering, and with one leap, he was up in the air, and flying far far away. The only sign there was ever a body in that place where Lakshman fell was the few drops of red which had fallen, leaking into the ground. Just like that, everything was silent once more.

-----O-----

Landing heavily, Hanuman gently placed Lakshman's body on the ground once more. As if summoned, hundreds of monkeys raced towards the spot. "It was an illusion, right Hanuman-" "That's not a real body, is it?" "Lakshman bhaiyya is still out fighting, isn't he?" "What happened? Who is this?" Hanuman looked around, but Sugriv quickly ran into the scene, pushing everyone back. Soon, there was a large circle around the corpse.

"I brought him back," Hanuman said. "Just in case it-it wasn't an illusion." And then he gulped. "But there is no question of it of course. Of course it's an illusion. All we need is Vibhishan, who will cast the illusion away, right? And we'll find Lakshman bhaiyya, all safe and sound. This is all magic, isn't it? There is no way Indrajit actually-" The general cut himself off.

Sugriv finally stepped back, glancing at Hanuman, who shuffled from foot to foot. No one was at peace. How could they be? Lakshman lay right there, in front of them. It was unreal, this scene. Was it all a terrible dream? They had never seen the normally fiery man so helpless. So-unattached from the world. For the first time, it registered in many people's minds. They were all mortal. Even the superhumans who eliminated so many enemies, were all mortal.

His mouth moved, but no words escaped from it. It was as if he had a million questions, but they all refused to leave the safe place inside his mind. Finally, his eyes drifted to Lakshman. This sight triggered something, and the words spilled out of his mouth. "C-Call-Call Prabhu." There was silence. "NOW!" he thundered. "NOW!" There was no need.

-----O-----

"Vibhishan?" Ram asked. "I cannot see Lakshman on the battlefield anymore. His figure is not reaching my eyes. Where did Lakshman go?" Vibhishan was quiet. His green tea lay long forgotten on the table. Ram's eyes darted, and he took a breath, his mouth slightly parted. "Vibhishan?" he tried again. No response. "Fine," he said, his voice short and harsh. "I'll find out myself." Grabbing his bow, he paced out of the tent.

The moment he stepped out, he was met with a dense crowd. A dense crowd of monkeys. Something in Ram's heart quivered. Finally, his brain registered what he was seeing. "Let me through!" he cried. Immediately, the horde made way, and he pushed through the crowd as it soon filled the space behind him. As he edged closer and closer to the center, where there seemed to be a clearing, Ram's brain raced faster and faster.

Looking straight ahead, he stepped into the empty space. "Lakshman?" he asked. But there was no Lakshman in front of him. Standing there were only Sugriv and Hanuman. "Wha-where is Lakshman?" Ram asked, his voice soft. His eyes adamantly refused to leave Sugriv and Hanuman, despite the huge space in between them. "Where is Lakshman?" he asked again, this time, his voice firm. There was no answer, but Ram saw Hanuman's eyes. And they were positioned towards the ground.

Slowly, almost as if scared, Ram followed the trail of his vision. His eyes locked onto something. His hand suddenly weakened, and the brow clattered to the ground. Angad winced. "Lakshman?" Ram asked softly. "Lakshman?!" He fell to the ground, crawling towards Lakshman. "Lakshman? No, no, no, no, no!" He grabbed his brother's head and put it into his lap desperately. "Lakshman? My Lakshu?" He patted Lakshman's cheek gently, at first, then hit it hard. "Lakshman? Lakshman!"

"Wake up. Come on now, it isn't very hard. Just open your eyes. I so long to see those eyes. Dark black, weren't they? Oh, here I am, saying dark black. Haha. Very funny, Look how stupid your brother is sounding, Lakshman, now you have to wake up, na? Tell your brother he isnt stupid, and that indeed there is a color called dark black and you'll show me your eyes and tell me I'm always correct, won't you?" Ram's rambling ended with a gasp for breath, and soon started again.

"Aww, after so long, after protecting us for so long, you're tired aren't you? Well, first you have to get up, and then you can sleep all you want, my Laksh. Come on, get up you sleepyhead!" Ram laughed through something choked in his throat. "You still need to kill Indrajit, remember that? Indrajit..." Ram trailed off. "This is all an illusion, isn't it? You're just trying to break through it, so you can say 'Bhaiyya! I am alright! I want to kill Indrajit now!' And then I will let you, because you always take my permission, don't you? VIBHISHAN! End this illusion! I want to see my brother again!"

Vibhishan, by then, had managed to make it into the inner circle too. Stumbling over himself, his mustache quivering. He waved his hands, and chanted something quietly, all while Ram stared at him, clear pearls forming at the very tips of his lotus eyes. His lips spasmed. "Well?" Ram asked, and some sort of smile formed on his lips. "It's all an illusion, isn't it? You wanted to tell me that, right? Lakshman will wake up, right?" When Vibhishan didn't speak, Ram's voice took on a desperate tone. "This is all an illusion, right? RIGHT?"

"N-No." Ram looked up, and began shaking his head quickly. "No, Prabhu. It isn't an illusion. I fear, Lakshman bhaiyya is actually-" he coughed up the word. "Hurt. That astra, I recognize. It is called the shakti astra. He uses it when his enemies prove to be immune to everything else." Vibhishan suddenly cut himself off, stepping back again. Angad let out a small cry, muffling it on the edge of his palm.

Nal and Neel held on tight to each other's hands. Sugriv wiped his forehead off. "W-What?" Ram asked, still shaking his head. "Not an illusion? No, no Vibhishan, You must have got it wrong. Because it is an illusion. It can't be anything but an illusion. Because my Lakshman gets hurt, but he doesn't. He doesn't-" Ram whimpered. "Die. My Lakshman doesn't die. He's fine. You're fine, aren't you?" Ram's voice became stronger, angrier. "Aren't you? Lakshman, follow my orders! I give it as your elder brother! Get up! GET UP! Be fine! Stop pretending! You're making my heart race!"

Ram chuckled aimlessly, patting his heart. But Lakshman did not move. And his smile disappeared. He shifted his legs to better see Lakshman's empty face. "But Lakshman, you always follow my commands. You never, you never-" Ram let out a cry, howling into the air before grabbing Lakshman, leaning over as his stomach flashed with pain. "Your face is so pale. It's paler than the moon. Your throat is so blue. Why is it so blue? Your lips are so cracked. Your eyes have bags underneath them. Your hands are cut. Why hadn't I noticed? Why?"

"You could have done so much. You could have gone back to Ayodhya, made a life, lived in luxury. You could have spent your years with Maa Sumitra, with the residents, with Urmila. And yet, you followed me. Why did you follow me? What have I done, God? What have I done, to receive a blessing such as this, and then lose it? Lakshman get up, if not for my order, then for my honor!"

"What will I tell Maa Sumitra. That you only fulfilled your promise? That, in my escapade to protect her honor, I lost her son? What will I tell Shatrughan and Bharat? That the brother I promised I would eternally care for, ended up being neglected for fourteen years, fourteen years, and lost his life protecting me? What will I tell Urmila, oh God, Urmila. Lakshman, what will I tell YOUR WIFE?" Angad stumbled back, staring at the scene with wide eyes. Wife?

"WHAT WILL I TELL YOUR WIFE, you silent dumbo? What will I tell Urmila? I lost her sister, and then I lost her husband, and now, the only product of fourteen years is I? In my quest to find my spouse, I forgot hers? This useless man?" Ram pointed to himself. Then he paused. "You could have done so many things, Lakshman. You could have had a luxurious life. I wasn't worth that.You didn't have to waste your last breath telling me you loved me."

Ram inhaled, gasping for air, his breaths raspy and hitched. "Don't you have enough reason to live, Lakshman? Or do you not? You think Urmila will remarry, right? You think she'll forget you. You think that because Maa Sumitra has another son, she cares less for you? Hmm? Do you think that little of yourself?"

"It's me, isn't it? It's because I was so terrible. Lakshman, please. PLEASE? Don't make me pay such a price for my stupid words. Don't-please. Get back up, and I'll say sorry! None of this was your fault! Please, Lakshman. It's me, isn't it? It's because I was such a terrible brother, you couldn't stand it anymore? You wanted to kill yourself? That's why we're all here, isn't it? It's my fault, right? Yes, it is! NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

"Because I was so unappreciative and mean, and I blamed everything on you? Because I was so inconsiderate and dumb? You know why I wore that angavastram of Marich's blood, even when it was soiled and you told me to remove it. Because I was terrible. I wanted to make you feel guilty, because in my loss, I lost my mind. Lakshman, come back! I can't lose everything. I can't lose you."

"Or is it Sita? Lakshman, what did Sita do? Why did you disobey my commands? Didn't you say that I am your father and she is your mother? And how could you disobey your mother's commands, right? Lakshman, what did she say? What did she do? Why was there a group of logs there, looking like a funeral pyre? LAKSHMAN, wake up and tell me what she did! NOW! I command it! I can live without Sita, but I cannot live without my Lakshu."

And then Ram paused, his face taking up one of horror. "The one thing you wanted to see. My coronation. I couldn't even give you that. I'm so terrible. All you wanted to see was-" Ram descended into sobs again, his shoulders shaking. 

A/N-Hola! I updated again, if you'd believe it. can you believe it? I cannot. But I just wanted to write sad stuff today. I don't even know why. GOD SAVE MY SOUL. I wanna be a fluff author, honestly. Actually, I want to be an infotainment author. I'm smart, I'm funny, and that's what an infotainment author needs. 

I just have been reading so much sad stuff, my life has become a lot of tears. Ugh. God. For the last time , stop killing off the sweet, kind, shy dude right after he and his secret love of life had a huge fight. Please. Ples. And stop making that love of his life find him, and then confess their love too. Pleassseeeeee-

Anyways, expect a lot of angst these next few days. T_T I just want to write a romantic OS, but I figure that might ruin the mood. Right? Wouldn't it? I mean, jealous Manrat! RIGHT? Manrat! Which is my new name for bharma. Sorry. Bharma sounds too much rajma.