Chapter 5: Escape from the Aaraksha Stronghold
The cold of the floor seeped into Vishakha’s skin as she regained consciousness. Her head throbbed, and her muscles felt heavy with exhaustion. The remnants of the neurotoxin still clung to her system, dulling her reflexes and clouding her thoughts.
She opened her eyes slowly, the dim light revealing the confines of a stark, sterile cell. The walls were smooth, metallic, and unyielding, the only feature a heavy steel door with no visible handle. A faint hum emanated from the ceiling, the sound of the surveillance system monitoring her every move.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and cold steel, dragging her back to memories she’d tried to bury—the Chhaya Institution, where the Shadow Order had stripped her identity and rebuilt her as a weapon.
The parallels were undeniable. This wasn’t just a prison. It was a statement.
Her wrists and ankles were shackled, the restraints heavy enough to make movement cumbersome. A subtle tug confirmed her suspicion—electronic locks, designed to tighten if tampered with.
“Vishakha.”
Amrita’s voice crackled through a hidden speaker, its tone almost conversational. Vishakha stiffened, her eyes narrowing at the ceiling as if she could glare through the walls.
“Comfortable?” Amrita’s voice continued, laced with mockery.
Vishakha pushed herself upright, her body protesting the movement. “Cut the games, Amrita. If Aryan wants to gloat, he can do it himself.”
“Oh, he will,” Amrita replied smoothly. “But first, he wants you to think about what you’ve done. About what you’ve become.”
“What I’ve done?” Vishakha shot back, her voice sharp. “You’re the one following orders without question. What does that make you?”
There was a pause, just long enough for Vishakha to wonder if her words had hit their mark.
“It makes me loyal,” Amrita said finally, her tone colder now. “Something you’ve never understood.”
The speaker went silent, leaving Vishakha alone with the faint hum of the surveillance system and her own simmering frustration.
Her eyes scanned the cell, searching for any potential weaknesses. The walls were seamless, offering no purchase for climbing or leverage. The door’s electronic lock was concealed, likely controlled remotely.
But nothing was truly impregnable.
She turned her attention to the surveillance camera embedded in the corner of the ceiling. Its lens glinted faintly, swiveling slightly to track her movements. A plan began to take shape in her mind, fueled by equal parts defiance and determination.
Hours passed—or what felt like hours. The lack of natural light made it impossible to tell how much time had actually gone by. Vishakha remained seated, her posture relaxed but her mind sharp, waiting for her captors to make their next move.
When the door finally slid open, it was Amrita who entered.
She looked as composed as ever, her white-and-gold combat suit immaculate, her expression cool and unreadable. She carried a tray with a pitcher of water and a single glass, which she set on the floor just out of Vishakha’s reach.
“Hydration is important,” Amrita said casually, as if they were old friends.
Vishakha didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on her sister with unyielding intensity.
Amrita crouched in front of her, studying her like a scientist observing a specimen. “Still so stubborn,” she said softly. “It’s almost admirable. Almost.”
“You didn’t come here to admire me,” Vishakha said, her voice calm but cutting. “Get to the point.”
Amrita tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint smile. “You always did like to rush things. Fine.”
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Aryan doesn’t need you alive, you know. He’s only keeping you here because I convinced him you might still be useful.”
Vishakha arched an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. “And why would you do that?”
Amrita’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Because deep down, I think you know you’re fighting a losing battle. And I think, given enough time, you’ll see the truth.”
“The truth?” Vishakha repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. “That Aryan’s vision is worth betraying everything we were taught?”
“We weren’t taught anything,” Amrita snapped, her composure cracking for the first time. “We were forged. Molded. And Aryan was the only one who saw what we could become.”
Vishakha leaned forward as far as her restraints would allow, her voice low and sharp. “What you’ve become is a pawn in his game. A tool he’ll discard the moment you outlive your usefulness.”
Amrita’s eyes flashed with anger, but she quickly smoothed her expression, standing abruptly. “Believe what you want,” she said coldly. “It won’t matter in the end.”
She turned and strode to the door, her movements brisk and deliberate. The door slid shut behind her, leaving Vishakha alone once more.
But she wasn’t defeated. If anything, her sister’s visit had only strengthened her resolve.
Amrita’s words may have been intended to break her, but they had done the opposite. They had revealed cracks in the facade—cracks Vishakha intended to exploit.
The faint hum of the cell’s surveillance camera continued to drone on, a maddening reminder of the constant scrutiny Vishakha was under. Every move she made, every breath she took, was being monitored. Still, she didn’t let it deter her from what had to come next.
It started small. She shifted her weight repeatedly, as though the restraints were digging into her skin more than usual. Her breathing became uneven, her head tilting to the side as if struggling to stay upright. She exaggerated the effects of the neurotoxin, simulating physical weakness to sell the illusion.
The camera lens swiveled slightly, its motion subtle but unmistakable. Whoever was on the other end was paying attention. That was the key.
Minutes passed, then a full hour. Just as the mounting silence threatened to stretch into a second eternity, the heavy steel door slid open with a low hiss.
A man stepped inside—a guard, his face partially obscured by the visor of his helmet. His build was familiar, as was the slight limp in his step. Recognition hit her like a bolt of lightning.
It was Yash.
She didn’t allow her expression to change. Any reaction could tip off her captors, who were undoubtedly watching through the camera. Instead, she kept up her act, her body slumping forward as though the weight of her restraints had finally overpowered her.
“Stay down,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Vishakha didn’t move, but her mind raced. Yash had been one of the younger recruits at the Chhaya Institution, years her junior and always eager to prove himself. She hadn’t seen him since her defection.
What was he doing here? More importantly, why was he helping her?
Yash moved quickly, his actions efficient but careful. He examined her restraints, his hands lingering just long enough to feign checking the locks.
“They’re watching,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “But only for a few more minutes. I shut down the outer cameras temporarily, but the backup feed will kick in soon.”
Vishakha’s heart pounded, but her voice remained low. “Why are you doing this?”
He glanced at her, his expression hard to read behind the visor. “Because you were right. The Order isn’t what it used to be. Aryan’s turned it into something… wrong.”
She didn’t reply, but a flicker of relief coursed through her.
“I’ll loosen the cuffs, but you’ll need to act like you’re still restrained,” he said, his tone brisk. “When the time comes, you’ll have one chance to move. Don’t waste it.”
Yash’s hands moved with practiced ease, subtly loosening the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. He straightened, taking a deliberate step back as if inspecting his work.
“Looks like she’s out of it,” he said aloud, his voice carrying enough for the microphone to pick up. “The neurotoxin’s doing its job.”
Vishakha slumped further, letting her body sag convincingly.
Yash turned toward the door, pausing briefly before glancing back at her. “When you get out,” he murmured, his voice so quiet she almost missed it, “don’t forget what I did.”
Then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him.
For several agonizing minutes, Vishakha remained motionless, her mind a whirlwind of calculations and anticipation. She didn’t have to wait long.
A faint crackle echoed from the corner of the ceiling as the speaker came to life. “Vishakha,” Aryan’s voice drawled, its smooth confidence sending a chill down her spine.
Her body stiffened involuntarily, though she kept up her act of feigned weakness.
“You’ve always been clever,” Aryan continued. “But even cleverness has its limits. Let’s see if you’ve truly outgrown your training, shall we?”
The surveillance camera lens rotated sharply, zooming in on her face. She suppressed the instinct to glare at it, instead maintaining her facade of exhaustion.
“Bring her to me,” Aryan ordered.
The door hissed open again, and this time, two guards entered. Their weapons were drawn, their movements cautious but methodical. Vishakha’s heart raced, her muscles coiled beneath the veil of stillness.
One guard approached her directly, gripping her upper arm to haul her upright. The other stood back, his weapon trained on her.
The moment the guard’s grip tightened, she moved.
Her wrist snapped free of the loosened cuff, her fingers locking around the guard’s wrist in a brutal twist that sent him reeling. Before the second guard could react, she yanked the first guard forward, using his body as a shield. The tranquilizer dart meant for her buried itself in his shoulder instead.
The second guard hesitated—a mistake.
Vishakha lunged, her katars drawn in a flash. She struck with precision, her blade slicing through the man’s weapon and rendering it useless. A second strike to his knee sent him crumpling to the ground, groaning in pain.
The entire encounter lasted mere seconds, but to Vishakha, it felt like hours.
She retrieved the access card clipped to one guard’s belt, quickly scanning the room for hidden defenses. With a single fluid motion, she unlocked the cell door and stepped into the hallway beyond.
“Dev,” she hissed into her earpiece.
For a moment, there was only static. Then, to her immense relief, his voice crackled back. “You’re alive. Thank the gods. Where are you?”
“Inside the stronghold,” she said, her tone brisk. “I’ll find my way out. Just get me a route.”
“Already working on it,” Dev replied. “But you’ve got company coming your way. A lot of it.”
Vishakha took a deep breath, her grip on her katars tightening. “Let them come.”
The narrow hallway stretched out before Vishakha, its sterile metallic walls illuminated by dim, flickering lights. Every step she took was deliberate and soundless, her katars gleaming faintly as they caught the cold light. Her escape wasn’t just about survival—it was about leaving Aryan and the Shadow Order in chaos.
“Dev,” she murmured, her voice steady but urgent, “talk to me. Where are they?”
“Multiple squads mobilizing,” Dev replied through her earpiece. “You’re in the southern wing, and they’re converging from the north. Your window to act is closing fast.”
“Then let’s make it count,” Vishakha said, her eyes scanning the hallway for vulnerabilities.
She reached an intersection and paused, pressing herself against the wall. The faint sound of boots echoed in the distance—a squad approaching, their steps coordinated and disciplined. She took a calming breath, her mind already calculating her next move.
The moment the squad appeared, Vishakha moved.
She launched a smoke pellet into the middle of the group, the device hissing as it released a dense cloud of gray. Chaos erupted as the operatives stumbled, coughing and shouting in confusion. Vishakha darted into the fray, her katars striking with deadly precision.
One by one, the operatives fell, their weapons clattering to the floor. Vishakha moved with fluid grace, her every strike a calculated blend of offense and defense. Within moments, the hallway was silent again, save for the faint hum of the ventilation system.
“Status?” she asked, retrieving a communication device from one of the fallen operatives.
“You’re clear for now,” Dev replied. “But Aryan’s going to lock this place down the moment he realizes you’re loose. We need to act fast.”
“What’s the most critical system here?” she asked, already moving toward the nearest staircase.
Dev’s pause was brief but telling. “The energy grid. It powers the entire facility, including their data servers and security systems. If you take it out—”
“They’ll be blind and scrambling,” she finished.
“Exactly. The grid is in the central core chamber. But, Vishakha—”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off. “It’ll be heavily guarded.”
She ascended the staircase quickly, her movements quiet and precise. Each step brought her closer to the central core, the faint hum of machinery growing louder as she approached.
When she reached the door to the core chamber, she paused, her hand hovering over the control panel. Her instincts screamed that this was a trap, but she had no choice.
“Dev, stay with me,” she whispered, entering the override code she’d memorized from the stolen access card.
The door slid open, revealing a sprawling chamber filled with machinery and glowing conduits. At the center stood the core itself—a towering cylindrical device pulsing with blue energy.
But it wasn’t unguarded.
Amrita stood near the core, flanked by a squad of heavily armed operatives. Her white-and-gold combat suit seemed to radiate confidence, her talwar resting at her side.
“Vishakha,” Amrita said, her voice calm but sharp. “I knew you’d come here. You always did like to make a statement.”
Vishakha stepped into the room, her katars raised. “And you always did like to follow orders without question.”
Amrita’s smile was faint, but her eyes were cold. “This isn’t about orders. It’s about loyalty. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think,” Vishakha said, her voice steady. “I understand that Aryan’s vision isn’t about balance or control. It’s about power. And you’re too blind to see it.”
Amrita’s grip on her talwar tightened. “Enough. Stand down, or I’ll end this here.”
Vishakha didn’t hesitate. She charged forward, her katars clashing against Amrita’s talwar in a burst of sparks.
The operatives moved to intervene, but Vishakha was ready. She hurled a flash grenade into their midst, the blinding light disorienting them long enough for her to focus on Amrita.
The sisters’ duel was brutal and relentless, their movements a deadly dance of blades and counterstrikes. Amrita’s strikes were powerful and precise, while Vishakha’s agility and evasiveness kept her one step ahead.
But time was against her. The operatives were recovering, their weapons aimed and ready.
“Dev,” she said through gritted teeth, her katars locking against Amrita’s talwar. “I need an exit. Now.”
“I’ve got a route,” Dev replied. “But you need to buy yourself thirty seconds.”
Vishakha’s gaze flicked to the core. Thirty seconds was all she needed.
She broke away from Amrita, sprinting toward the core with everything she had. Amrita shouted something—an order, a warning—but Vishakha didn’t hear it. She reached the control console and slammed her katars into the main conduit, sparks flying as the core began to overload.
“Stop her!” Amrita shouted, but it was too late.
The room filled with the sound of alarms and the crackling of overloading circuits. Vishakha turned to face the approaching operatives, her katars raised as the chamber descended into chaos.
“Dev, where’s that exit?” she shouted.
“Sending it to your comms now!”
As the operatives closed in, Vishakha activated her Chhaya Cloak, disappearing into the shadows. She moved swiftly, navigating the maze of machinery and conduits as the alarms blared around her.
Amrita’s voice echoed through the chamber, furious and relentless. “Find her! Don’t let her escape!”
But Vishakha was already gone, her silhouette vanishing into the chaos as the stronghold began to tear itself apart.
The stronghold was alive with chaos. Alarms blared in every corridor, casting an eerie red glow as emergency lights flickered and strobed. The overloaded core in the central chamber sent ripples of disruption through the facility, disabling non-critical systems and plunging some areas into darkness.
Vishakha moved like a ghost, her Chhaya Cloak rendering her invisible as she slipped through the confusion. Operatives rushed past her, their voices raised in frantic urgency as they attempted to contain the growing disaster.
“Dev,” she whispered, her breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “Give me an update.”
“You’ve turned their operations into a madhouse,” Dev replied, his tone tinged with admiration. “The overload is spreading, but they’re trying to stabilize it. You’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before they regain control.”
“Plenty of time,” she said, her voice calm and purposeful.
Her target was clear: the communications hub. If she could disable it, the stronghold would lose its ability to coordinate reinforcements, isolating it from the Shadow Order’s larger network.
She reached an intersection and paused, pressing herself against the wall as a group of armed guards hurried past. Their radios crackled with overlapping orders, fragments of panicked voices leaking through:
“…containment breach near the core…”
“…all units to the north wing…”
“…secure the observation deck immediately…”
The moment they were gone, Vishakha slipped into the adjacent hallway. She followed the faint hum of machinery, her instincts and Dev’s whispered directions guiding her toward the communications hub.
The hub was a sprawling control room, its walls lined with server racks and monitors displaying live feeds from across the facility. A group of operatives manned the consoles, their focus divided between the chaos unfolding on their screens and the commands blaring over their headsets.
Vishakha assessed the situation with practiced precision. The room was heavily staffed, but their attention was elsewhere. She would need to move quickly and efficiently to avoid being overwhelmed.
“Dev,” she murmured, “how much damage can I do here?”
“If you take out the main terminal,” Dev replied, “it’ll sever their link to the rest of the Shadow Order. No external comms, no reinforcements, no coordination.”
“Perfect,” she said, already moving.
She darted into the room, her Chhaya Cloak flickering briefly as she disabled it to conserve power. Her first strike was silent—a throwing needle embedding itself in the neck of the nearest operative. He collapsed without a sound, and Vishakha was on the next target before the others even noticed.
By the time the remaining operatives reacted, she had already taken down three more. The last two turned toward her, their weapons raised, but she was faster. Her katars flashed as she closed the distance, disarming and incapacitating them in a series of fluid, precise movements.
The room fell silent once more, save for the hum of the servers.
Vishakha moved to the main terminal, her fingers flying over the controls as she initiated a system-wide purge. The monitors flickered and died, one by one, as the hub’s connection to the Shadow Order’s network disintegrated.
“Comms are down,” she said, her voice steady. “What’s next?”
“Get out of there,” Dev replied. “They’ll figure out what you’ve done soon enough, and you’re too exposed.”
“Not yet,” she said, her gaze falling on a side panel labeled Access Logs.
“Vishakha,” Dev warned, “this isn’t the time to go digging.”
She ignored him, her fingers pulling up the logs with a few quick commands. The data revealed the identities of every operative who had accessed the hub in the past week, including the locations of several high-ranking Shadow Order members.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Gotcha.”
“Fine,” Dev said, exasperated. “Now can you leave before they bury you in there?”
Vishakha slipped out of the communications hub just as the first wave of reinforcements arrived. She moved through the stronghold with the efficiency of a predator, her every step deliberate and calculated.
The next phase of her plan was clear: sabotage as much of the facility as possible before making her final escape.
She targeted key systems along her route, planting explosive charges on power relays and disabling critical infrastructure. The stronghold trembled with each controlled detonation, its structural integrity visibly weakening.
Operatives scrambled to respond, their movements chaotic as they attempted to extinguish fires and contain the spreading damage. Vishakha used the confusion to her advantage, slipping past them unnoticed as she made her way toward the stronghold’s perimeter.
“Dev,” she said, her voice calm despite the escalating destruction around her. “How’s my exit looking?”
“I’ve rerouted some of their drone patrols,” he replied. “There’s a maintenance shaft on the east side that’ll take you out of the main structure. But you’ll need to move fast—Amrita’s closing in.”
Vishakha’s jaw tightened at the mention of her sister. “Let her come,” she said, her tone sharp.
“You don’t have to fight her right now,” Dev said, his voice tinged with concern.
“She won’t give me a choice,” Vishakha replied.
She reached the maintenance shaft and slipped inside, the cramped space illuminated by the faint glow of emergency lights. The sound of footsteps and shouts grew fainter as she descended, the cool air of the lower levels offering a brief reprieve from the heat of the chaos above.
But she knew it wouldn’t last.
The maintenance shaft was cold and silent, the echoes of chaos above barely audible. Vishakha’s breathing was steady, her movements quick and precise as she descended the ladder leading to the stronghold’s lower levels. Each rung brought her closer to the exit—and closer to freedom.
“Dev, how much time do I have?” she asked, her voice a whisper over the earpiece.
“Not long,” Dev replied. “The overload in the core is stabilizing. They’ll start regrouping soon. Amrita’s squad is tracking you—she’s not far.”
Vishakha tightened her grip on the ladder, her jaw clenching at the mention of her sister. She had always known this escape wouldn’t be easy, but the inevitability of another confrontation with Amrita weighed heavily on her.
She reached the bottom of the shaft and pushed open the heavy grate, stepping into a dimly lit corridor. The air here was damp and metallic, the walls lined with exposed pipes and conduits.
“East exit is three corridors down,” Dev said. “But be careful—your sister isn’t the only one after you.”
Vishakha nodded, even though Dev couldn’t see her, and began moving. Her katars were drawn, her senses sharp as she scanned the corridor for movement.
The first sign of trouble came as a faint click—a sound only years of training could have detected. Without hesitation, Vishakha dove to the side as a burst of gunfire erupted, the bullets ricocheting off the walls where she had been moments before.
She rolled to her feet, her eyes locking onto a trio of Shadow Order operatives advancing from the far end of the corridor. Their weapons gleamed under the flickering lights, their expressions cold and focused.
Vishakha didn’t wait for them to adjust. She moved like lightning, her katars flashing as she closed the distance between them.
The first operative went down with a silent strike to the throat, his weapon clattering to the floor. The second fired a shot that grazed her arm, but she was on him before he could adjust his aim, her blade slicing through the barrel of his rifle. A well-placed kick sent him sprawling, unconscious.
The third operative hesitated, his eyes widening as he realized he was outmatched. Vishakha didn’t give him a chance to retreat—her throwing needle struck his shoulder, and he collapsed with a muffled groan.
“Dev, status?” she asked, already moving again.
“You’re clear for now,” Dev said, his voice tight with tension. “But Amrita’s squad is gaining. They’re cutting off your route to the east exit.”
“Then I’ll make my own route,” Vishakha said, her tone resolute.
She rounded a corner and froze.
Amrita stood at the far end of the corridor, her white-and-gold combat suit gleaming even in the dim light. Her talwar was already drawn, its edge shimmering faintly with the energy coursing through it.
“I told you this wasn’t over,” Amrita said, her voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of anger.
Vishakha raised her katars, her stance shifting instinctively into one of readiness. “You’re right. It’s not.”
Amrita began to move, her steps slow and deliberate as she closed the distance between them.
“You’ve caused enough damage, sister,” she said, her tone icy. “It’s time to put an end to this.”
Vishakha’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”
The distance between them vanished in an instant as Amrita lunged, her talwar slicing through the air with lethal precision. Vishakha sidestepped, her katars meeting the blade with a resounding clash that sent sparks flying.
The corridor became their battleground, every strike and counterstrike a symphony of deadly intent. Amrita’s movements were powerful and calculated, each swing of her talwar designed to force Vishakha into a defensive position.
But Vishakha was faster, her agility and precision keeping her one step ahead. She weaved through Amrita’s attacks, her katars striking with surgical accuracy whenever an opening presented itself.
“You’ve lost your edge,” Amrita said, her voice sharp as their blades locked once more.
“Or maybe you’ve just forgotten what it’s like to fight someone who knows your every move,” Vishakha countered, her voice steady despite the strain of the battle.
Amrita snarled, her talwar pushing against Vishakha’s katars with brute force. “You should’ve stayed loyal. You could’ve had everything.”
Vishakha’s gaze hardened. “I don’t want everything. I want freedom.”
With a sudden burst of strength, she shoved Amrita back, breaking the lock between their weapons. The force sent Amrita stumbling, but she recovered quickly, her talwar raised once more.
But the delay was all Vishakha needed.
She reached into her belt and hurled a smoke pellet at the ground. The corridor filled with a thick cloud of gray, obscuring everything in an instant.
“Running again?” Amrita’s voice called through the smoke, her tone laced with disdain.
But Vishakha wasn’t running. She moved through the smoke like a shadow, silent and invisible, until she was behind Amrita.
“I’m not running,” Vishakha said quietly.
Amrita turned too late. Vishakha’s katars struck the edge of her talwar, sending it clattering to the ground. Before Amrita could react, Vishakha struck her wrist with a calculated blow, disarming her completely.
Amrita stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock and fury. But before Vishakha could press the advantage, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Reinforcements.
“This isn’t over,” Amrita hissed, her voice filled with venom as she retreated into the smoke.
Vishakha didn’t pursue her. There wasn’t time. She turned and ran, her movements swift and deliberate as she followed Dev’s updated directions toward a secondary exit.
The maintenance hatch loomed ahead, its heavy steel frame a beacon of escape. Vishakha reached it just as the facility trembled with another distant explosion—a final reminder of the destruction she had wrought.
She slipped through the hatch and into the open air, the cool night breeze a welcome contrast to the stifling corridors of the stronghold.
“Dev,” she said, her voice steady despite her exhaustion, “I’m out.”
“Good,” Dev replied, his relief evident. “But don’t get comfortable. Aryan’s going to want revenge for this.”
“Let him try,” Vishakha said, her gaze hard as she vanished into the shadows.
The distant glow of the Aaraksha Stronghold lit up the horizon like a second sun, flames licking at the sky as the facility continued its slow collapse. Explosions echoed faintly in the cool night air, each one a reminder of the chaos Vishakha had left behind.
She crouched in the underbrush of a dense forest, her breathing even despite the exertion of her escape. The black-and-gold suit that had kept her alive bore fresh tears and scorch marks, the gleam of the fabric dulled by grime. Blood trickled from a shallow cut on her arm, staining the dirt beneath her.
But she was alive.
“Dev,” she said into her earpiece, her voice calm but firm. “Status?”
“You’re clear for now,” Dev replied, the faint sound of his keyboard clacking in the background. “Amrita’s squad pulled back to regroup after the last blast. They’re probably focusing on stabilizing what’s left of the stronghold.”
“They won’t stabilize it,” Vishakha said, her tone matter-of-fact. “I made sure of that.”
Dev chuckled softly. “Of course you did. But you should still move. They’ll figure out you’re gone soon enough.”
Vishakha stood, her gaze sweeping the forest. The stars above provided just enough light to navigate by, their faint glow filtered through the canopy.
“What did you manage to pull from their systems?” she asked, adjusting the strap of her weapons harness.
“Plenty,” Dev said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Names, locations, operational details. Aryan’s entire network just became a lot less secure.”
Vishakha’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Then we’ve got what we need to bring him down.”
“Most of what we need,” Dev corrected. “There are still pieces missing—key players we don’t have intel on, hidden cells we haven’t found. And then there’s Amrita…”
Vishakha’s expression darkened at the mention of her sister. “I’ll deal with Amrita when the time comes,” she said, her voice cold and steady.
“Fair enough,” Dev said, though his hesitation was clear. “But Vishakha… are you okay?”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. The memories of her confrontation with Amrita lingered in her mind, sharp and unrelenting. The anger in her sister’s eyes, the bitterness in her voice—it was a reminder of what she had lost, and what she might never reclaim.
“I’m fine,” she said finally, her tone leaving no room for argument. “What’s next?”
Dev sighed, but he didn’t press the issue. “There’s a safe house about ten clicks north of your position. Minimal security, no heat signatures in the area. It’ll give you a place to regroup.”
“Send me the coordinates,” she said, already moving.
The forest stretched out before her, the shadows deep and shifting as the wind rustled the leaves. She moved with purpose, her footsteps silent and her katars sheathed but ready. Every step carried her further from the Aaraksha Stronghold, but the weight of what she had left behind followed her like a phantom.
The safe house was little more than a run-down cabin nestled in a clearing. Its walls were weathered and cracked, and the single window was obscured by grime. But it was quiet, and that was enough.
Vishakha pushed open the door, her katars drawn as she scanned the interior. The cabin was empty, its only furnishings a rickety table and a pair of mismatched chairs.
She secured the door behind her, then moved to the table, pulling out the data drive she had taken from the stronghold’s communications hub. It gleamed faintly in the dim light, a small but significant victory.
“Dev, I’m at the safe house,” she said, setting the drive down.
“Good,” he replied. “I’ll start decrypting the data on my end. Should give us a clearer picture of Aryan’s remaining assets.”
“Let me know when you have something,” she said, her voice low.
“You’ll be the first to know,” he said. “And Vishakha… good work today.”
The line went silent, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She sat at the table, her katars resting within arm’s reach, her eyes fixed on the data drive. The glow from the stronghold had faded from the horizon, leaving the night in its natural darkness.
The mission had been a success. She had crippled Aryan’s operations, exposed critical vulnerabilities, and escaped with her life.
But it hadn’t been without cost.
The image of Amrita’s face lingered in her mind, her sister’s voice echoing with accusations and anger. They were twins, bound by blood and history, yet their paths had diverged so completely that they now stood as enemies.
“Amrita,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
The name tasted bitter on her tongue, a reminder of the bond that had once defined them.
But there was no room for sentimentality. Aryan was still out there, his network still operating, his influence still growing. The battle wasn’t over—not yet.
Vishakha stood, her katars glinting faintly as she slipped them back into their sheaths. The night was quiet, but the war in the shadows was far from finished.
With one last glance at the data drive, she stepped to the window and gazed out at the forest. Somewhere in the darkness, Aryan and Amrita were preparing their next move.
And so was she.