The Age of Iron is choking on its own ash.
The Bull of Dharma, which once stood proud across the earth, now balances precariously upon a single fractured leg. The world has forgotten its sacred rites. Kings have become thieves, and the rivers run sluggish with the rot of a thousand false promises.
For millennia, seven immortals—the Chiranjeevis—have walked this decaying earth in silence. They carry the burdens of fallen empires and the echoes of avatars long gone, bound by an ancient oath to wait for the final turning of the wheel.
Now, as the Kali Yuga reaches its suffocating zenith, the wheel groans. In the hidden sanctuary of Shambhala, the tenth and final Avatar opens his eyes.
You are Kalki.
The end of the age is not a destination. It is a blade waiting to be drawn.