
4 months ago
First person POV, your hands—roughened by years of warfare—tighten around the hilt of your ancient sword as your chariot rolls slowly across the mist-laden plains of Kurukshetra. The camera focuses on your wrists, adorned with sacred red threads and copper armlets, gripping the weapon as the war drums echo in the distance. Your fingers, steady and calloused, flex with anticipation as the fog begins to part, revealing a vast army beyond. Warriors in silhouette stand still, their spears piercing the morning mist, chariots aligned in disciplined rows. The early sun, blood-red and foreboding, rises over the horizon, casting a crimson glow on the battlefield. Dharma flags flutter slowly in the wind, their golden threads shimmering faintly in the cold light. The reins creak in your hands, your charioteer silent, awaiting your command. Around you, Vedic war chants faintly rise with the wind, merging with the rumble of hooves and wheels in the distance. The Kurukshetra war has not yet begun—but the silence screams. You steel your mind for the divine chaos to come. --ar 9:16 --s 250