Chapter 4: The Sleeper Agents
The corporate headquarters of Laksha Global shone like a beacon in Bengaluru’s glittering skyline. Its sleek glass facade and towering height stood as a symbol of technological progress, but Vishakha knew the truth: it was a cover. Behind its mirrored windows lay one of the Shadow Order’s most crucial sleeper agent networks, a linchpin in Aryan’s grand design.
Vishakha adjusted the lapels of her tailored suit as she approached the building’s entrance, her demeanor cool and composed. She had traded her combat-ready attire for the guise of a high-ranking tech executive, complete with a falsified ID and a fabricated backstory courtesy of Dev’s hacking expertise.
“Your access should work,” Dev’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “Just don’t let anyone get too close to scan it. The biometric data is solid, but if someone pulls your employment file… well, let’s just say it won’t hold up under scrutiny.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Vishakha murmured, her voice low but steady.
“You’ll be fine,” Dev replied. “Just remember—straight to the server room on the 37th floor. Get the data, get out. Simple.”
“Nothing about this is simple,” she muttered, stepping through the glass doors.
The lobby was a study in corporate opulence: polished marble floors, minimalist furniture, and a massive chandelier that looked like a constellation frozen in time. Uniformed security guards patrolled the space, their eyes scanning every visitor with practiced vigilance.
Vishakha strode toward the security checkpoint, her steps confident but unhurried. Her fabricated ID badge hung from a lanyard around her neck, its holographic seal shimmering under the fluorescent lights.
The guard at the checkpoint, a burly man with a buzz cut, gave her a cursory glance before scanning her badge. The scanner beeped, and a green light flashed.
“Welcome, Ms. Sharma,” he said, stepping aside.
She nodded curtly, keeping her expression neutral as she walked past him.
Once inside the elevator, Vishakha pressed the button for the 37th floor. The doors closed, and the soft hum of the elevator filled the small space.
“Elevator’s clean,” Dev’s voice came through her earpiece. “No cameras in there. You’re good for now.”
“Let me guess,” Vishakha said dryly. “The hard part starts when I get out.”
“Exactly,” Dev replied.
The elevator dinged softly as it reached its destination. The doors slid open, revealing a sleek, high-tech office floor. Rows of glass-walled cubicles lined the space, their occupants hunched over monitors displaying streams of code and data. The air hummed with the faint buzz of electronics and the low murmur of voices.
Vishakha stepped out, her eyes scanning the room. The server room was located at the far end of the floor, accessible only through a biometric-locked door. A security camera hung above the entrance, its lens sweeping the area with mechanical precision.
“Camera’s tracking clockwise,” Dev said in her ear. “You’ve got a five-second window to get past it without being seen.”
“Got it,” she replied, her tone clipped.
She moved toward the server room with calculated precision, timing her steps to the camera’s rotation. When the lens turned away, she slipped past its line of sight and pressed her fabricated ID badge against the biometric scanner.
The scanner beeped, and the door clicked open. Vishakha slipped inside, closing the door behind her.
The server room was a maze of towering racks filled with blinking equipment, the air cool and sterile. At its center stood the main server terminal, a sleek console surrounded by a halo of monitors displaying streams of encrypted data.
“I’m in,” she said quietly.
“Great,” Dev replied. “Plug in the drive I gave you. It’ll copy the data and inject a tracker into their system. That way, we’ll know where their communications are routed.”
Vishakha reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a small, unassuming flash drive. She inserted it into the terminal’s port, the drive’s LED blinking as it began its work.
“Copying now,” Dev said, his tone tense. “It’ll take about three minutes. Just keep an eye out.”
Vishakha scanned the room, her senses on high alert. The hum of the servers seemed louder now, each sound amplified by the stillness.
“Something’s wrong,” she murmured.
“What do you mean?” Dev asked.
She turned, her eyes narrowing. “It’s too quiet. No alarms, no guards. They have to know I’m here.”
As if on cue, the overhead lights flickered. A low, ominous hum filled the air, followed by the sound of boots echoing down the corridor outside.
“Dev,” Vishakha said, her voice sharp.
“I see them,” he replied. “Four operatives, heavily armed, heading your way. You’ve got maybe thirty seconds before they reach the door.”
“Can you speed this up?” she asked, her fingers hovering over her katars.
“Working on it,” Dev said, his voice strained.
The sound of boots grew louder, accompanied by muffled voices. Vishakha positioned herself near the door, her body coiled and ready. The terminal’s screen continued to display the progress bar, its slow crawl toward completion maddeningly deliberate.
The door handle turned.
Vishakha moved like a shadow, her katars slicing through the first operative before he had a chance to react. The second swung his weapon toward her, but she disarmed him with a quick, brutal strike to his wrist.
The third and fourth operatives hesitated, their training momentarily overridden by the shock of her speed. Vishakha didn’t give them a chance to recover. Her movements were precise and lethal, her katars finding their marks with unerring accuracy.
“Data’s done,” Dev’s voice crackled in her ear. “Pull the drive and get out of there.”
She retrieved the flash drive and turned toward the door, her movements fluid despite the chaos around her.
“Security’s on high alert,” Dev warned. “I’m rerouting elevator access, but you’ll need to reach the stairwell first. It’s your only way out.”
Vishakha didn’t hesitate. She sprinted toward the stairwell, her katars sheathed as she moved with the agility of someone born in the shadows. The sound of alarms filled the air, their shrill wails echoing through the corridors.
She burst into the stairwell, the sound of pursuit hot on her heels. As she descended, her mind raced, calculating her next move.
The mission wasn’t over yet—but she had the data. And that was enough for now.
The hideout was as nondescript as ever—a dingy basement beneath an old electronics shop, its air heavy with the smell of solder and mildew. The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with obsolete hardware and tangled wires, offering perfect cover for a covert operation. Vishakha and Dev sat at the makeshift workstation in the corner, their faces illuminated by the glow of multiple monitors.
“Got it plugged in,” Dev muttered, sliding the flash drive into his laptop. He leaned forward, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he initiated the decryption process.
Vishakha stood behind him, her arms crossed, her katars still strapped to her hips. Her eyes flicked between the screens, their flickering light reflecting in her sharp gaze.
“How long?” she asked.
“Depends on how much coffee their IT team drinks,” Dev replied. “If this encryption’s half as tough as the one in Bengaluru’s municipal systems, it could take hours. But if—”
The screen beeped. Lines of code and raw data filled the display, scrolling rapidly before solidifying into coherent files. Dev blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Or it could take thirty seconds. That works too.”
Vishakha leaned in, her voice tight. “What do we have?”
Dev began opening the files, each one bringing up new schematics, communications, and operational logs. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming.
“Okay, okay,” Dev said, scanning quickly. “This looks like communications data for the sleeper network. Command chains, directives, deployment orders… There’s a ton here.”
Vishakha’s hand rested on the back of his chair, her grip firm. “Focus. What’s their next move?”
Dev clicked on a folder labeled Phase Two Deployment. His face paled as he read through the contents. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”
“What is it?” Vishakha asked, her voice sharp.
He turned to her, his expression grim. “They’re targeting Chennai. And it’s not just one sleeper agent—it’s a coordinated strike. They’re activating at least a dozen agents simultaneously. Infrastructure, politics, law enforcement—it’s all connected. If they pull this off, Chennai won’t just be destabilized—it’ll be crippled.”
Vishakha’s jaw tightened. “When?”
Dev scrolled further, his fingers shaking slightly. “The directives go live in twenty-four hours.”
Her mind raced. A city the size of Chennai couldn’t afford a single coordinated disruption, let alone a dozen. Blackouts, assassinations, riots—it would be chaos. And worse, it would give the Shadow Order the leverage they needed to tighten their grip on Bharat Varsha’s major hubs.
“Anything else?” she pressed.
Dev nodded, opening another file. “There’s a list. High-value targets. Journalists, politicians, activists—anyone who could rally resistance to Aryan’s plans. These people aren’t just collateral damage; they’re priorities.”
Vishakha leaned closer, her eyes scanning the list. Many of the names were unfamiliar, but a few stood out—people she’d crossed paths with during her time in the Order. People she’d tried to protect after her defection.
She straightened, her resolve hardening. “We have to stop this.”
Dev gave a short, humorless laugh. “Sure. No problem. Just waltz into Chennai, neutralize a dozen sleeper agents, and save the day. Easy peasy.”
Her gaze flicked to him, cold and unyielding. “We don’t have a choice.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I know. But there’s something else you should see.”
Dev opened another folder, this one labeled Node Security Protocols. The file contained schematics for the central node that controlled the sleeper network, buried deep beneath a high-tech facility on the outskirts of Chennai.
“This,” he said, pointing to the screen. “This is the brain. If we take this out, the entire network goes offline. The sleeper agents won’t have centralized directives. They’ll be dead in the water.”
“How well-defended is it?” Vishakha asked, her tone steady.
“Think Fort Knox meets Skynet,” Dev replied. “Multiple security layers—AI-driven surveillance, biometric locks, motion sensors. And that’s before you get to the armed guards and the automated defense systems.”
She nodded, already forming a plan. “We’ll need a diversion.”
“Diversion?” Dev echoed, his voice rising slightly. “You’re talking about breaking into one of the most secure facilities in Bharat Varsha, and you want to throw in a diversion?”
Vishakha smirked faintly. “You’re catching on.”
He groaned, slumping back in his chair. “I knew I should’ve stayed in cybersecurity. At least my biggest worry then was someone stealing my lunch from the office fridge.”
“You’re here because you’re good at what you do,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “And because you want to make a difference.”
Dev looked at her, his expression conflicted. “You’re really good at the whole inspirational thing, you know that?”
She didn’t respond, her focus returning to the schematics. Her mind was already working through the logistics, the risks.
“Do we have a location on the sleeper agents?” she asked.
Dev clicked on another file, pulling up a map of Chennai. Red dots marked the agents’ positions, scattered across key areas of the city.
“They’re spread out,” he said. “But these three,” he pointed to a cluster near the city center, “are critical. They’re tied directly to the command chain. Take them out, and we can disrupt the activation sequence.”
Vishakha studied the map, her eyes narrowing. “We’ll split it into two phases. First, we neutralize the agents in the city. Then, we hit the node.”
“And how, exactly, do we survive either of those things?” Dev asked, his tone skeptical.
“We don’t survive by thinking about surviving,” she said, packing her gear with practiced efficiency. “We survive by doing what needs to be done.”
Dev sighed heavily but started packing up his own equipment. “You really have a way of making reckless plans sound noble, you know that?”
“It’s a gift,” she replied dryly.
As they prepared to leave, Vishakha paused, her gaze lingering on the map. Each red dot represented a life—or the loss of it. Each failure carried consequences far beyond her own survival.
But failure wasn’t an option.
The air in Chennai was thick with humidity, the late afternoon sun casting a golden haze over the bustling streets. Vishakha moved through the crowds with practiced ease, her presence inconspicuous despite the urgency simmering beneath her calm exterior. The map of sleeper agent locations was seared into her mind, and her first target—a government official named Narayan Iyer—was already within reach.
Narayan was an administrative liaison to the city’s energy grid, a position that gave him control over critical infrastructure. According to the Shadow Order’s directive, he was tasked with initiating a citywide blackout as the opening move in their coordinated assault.
Vishakha’s destination was a high-rise office building in the heart of the city, its modern architecture a stark contrast to the historic streets surrounding it. She slipped through the main entrance, blending effortlessly with the stream of employees and visitors.
“Camera feed is clear,” Dev’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “You’re good to go, but keep it tight. This guy’s schedule is like clockwork. He won’t be in his office long.”
“I know,” Vishakha murmured, her tone even.
The elevator ride was brief, the soft hum of the machinery a sharp contrast to the tension coiling in her chest. When the doors opened on the 16th floor, she stepped out into a sleek, minimalist workspace.
Narayan’s office was near the end of the hallway, the frosted glass walls offering a partial view of the interior. He was seated at his desk, his attention on a tablet as he reviewed what Vishakha could only assume were Shadow Order directives.
She moved quickly, her steps silent. The small utility pouch at her waist yielded a compact EMP device, which she placed on the building’s security panel as she passed. A soft whine signaled its activation, and the hallway cameras went dark.
Narayan didn’t look up when she entered, his focus still on the tablet.
“Whatever it is, I’m busy,” he said curtly, not bothering to glance at her.
“That’s an understatement,” Vishakha replied, her voice sharp.
Narayan froze, his head snapping up. His face paled as he recognized her, his eyes darting toward the alarm button on his desk.
“Don’t,” she warned, her katar flashing in the light as she drew it with deliberate precision.
Narayan’s hand hovered for a moment before he slowly pulled it back. “Shadow Dancer,” he said, his voice trembling. “They said you might come.”
“Then you know why I’m here,” Vishakha said, her tone cold.
Narayan swallowed hard, his eyes flicking toward the door. “You’re making a mistake. This isn’t what you think it is.”
“Then enlighten me,” she said, stepping closer.
He hesitated, his fingers twitching nervously. “It’s not about power or control. It’s about balance. The Order isn’t the villain here, no matter what you’ve convinced yourself to believe.”
Vishakha’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Is that what they told you? That shutting down an entire city is about balance?”
Narayan’s bravado faltered, and his gaze dropped. “You don’t understand. They’ll kill me if I don’t follow through.”
“They’ll kill you if you do,” she shot back, her voice like steel. “The Order doesn’t leave loose ends.”
The words hung heavy in the air. For a moment, Narayan’s expression shifted—fear mingling with something that almost resembled regret.
“Give me the override codes,” Vishakha demanded.
Narayan’s jaw tightened. “I can’t.”
Her katar moved in a flash, the blade stopping inches from his throat. “Try again.”
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he reached for the tablet, his hands trembling. “They’ll know I talked,” he whispered.
“They’ll think you resisted,” she replied evenly.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second before entering the code. The tablet’s screen lit up, displaying a web of interconnected nodes—the control systems for the city’s energy grid. Vishakha scanned the information, memorizing the access points.
“Who else is involved?” she asked.
Narayan shook his head. “It won’t matter. Even if you stop me, there are others. This operation is bigger than you can imagine.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she said, lowering the katar.
Narayan’s relief was short-lived. The moment he moved, she struck him with the hilt of her blade, the blow precise enough to render him unconscious without causing lasting harm.
“Target neutralized,” she said into her earpiece, already moving to exit the office.
“Nice work,” Dev replied. “But you’ve got company—security guards heading your way, and they don’t look happy.”
“Of course they don’t,” she muttered.
The hallway cameras were still dark, but the sound of footsteps echoed ominously. Vishakha moved quickly, her body a blur as she darted toward the emergency stairwell. She slipped inside just as the first guard reached Narayan’s office.
“Security alert on the 16th floor!” the guard’s voice barked through the corridor, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps.
Vishakha descended the stairs, her movements silent and deliberate. She paused at the 14th floor, listening for signs of pursuit. When she heard none, she continued downward, her mind already working through the next steps.
“Any word on the other agents?” she asked, her voice low.
“Still working on it,” Dev replied. “But we’ve got a bigger problem. That terminal you pulled the codes from—it’s flagged. They know someone accessed it.”
“How long do we have?”
“Not long enough,” he said grimly. “I suggest you get out of there before they lock down the whole building.”
“Already on it,” she said, quickening her pace.
By the time she reached the ground floor, the building was in full lockdown. Security guards swarmed the lobby, their radios crackling with orders. Vishakha slipped through a side exit, her Chhaya Cloak rendering her invisible as she moved into the crowded streets.
Once she was clear, she ducked into a narrow alley, her breathing steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She pulled out her communicator, her fingers deftly typing a message to Dev.
“Codes secured. Moving to next target.”
The glow of a dozen computer screens bathed the room in an eerie blue light. Vishakha moved cautiously through the abandoned warehouse, her katars ready at her sides. This was the second target’s base of operations—a supposedly defunct tech hub in Chennai, now repurposed as a nerve center for the Shadow Order’s sleeper network.
Dev’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “You’re clear so far, but I’m seeing movement two floors up. Looks like a small team. Keep it quiet.”
“Always do,” she muttered, scanning the room for traps or hidden sensors.
The servers stood like sentinels in the dimly lit space, their cooling systems humming softly. At the center of the room was a sleek console, its interface glowing with the same ominous hue. Vishakha approached it cautiously, her sharp eyes scanning for anything out of place.
“Plugging in now,” she whispered, inserting Dev’s second drive into the console’s port.
The interface flickered, the symbols on the screen rearranging themselves into recognizable code. As the program initiated its data download, a faint noise behind her made Vishakha’s muscles tense.
“Dev,” she said, her voice low but urgent.
“I see it,” he replied. “They’re moving faster than I thought. Get ready for company.”
Before she could respond, the console’s interface blinked, and the screen abruptly shifted. The scrolling data vanished, replaced by a holographic projection that sprang to life before her.
Aryan Suryavanshi.
The projection was life-sized, the image sharp enough to make Vishakha’s breath catch for just a moment. Aryan stood in his ceremonial armor, the burn scar on his left hand faintly visible as he folded his arms. His piercing eyes locked onto her, and despite the artificial nature of the encounter, his presence felt suffocating.
“Well,” he said, his voice smooth and cold, “if it isn’t my brightest disappointment.”
Vishakha’s grip on her katars tightened, but she forced her voice to remain steady. “Aryan.”
He inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Shadow Dancer. Or do you prefer Vishakha now? It’s hard to keep track of all your identities.”
“What do you want?” she asked, her tone sharp.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and menacing. “What do I want? You broke into my facility, disrupted my operations, and now you’re asking what I want?” His smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. “I should be asking you the same thing.”
“You already know,” Vishakha replied. “I’m dismantling your network. One agent at a time.”
Aryan’s gaze narrowed. “And you think that will stop me? You’ve barely scratched the surface of what the Shadow Order is capable of. For every agent you take down, two more rise to take their place. We are inevitable.”
“You’re a parasite,” she said, her voice like steel. “And parasites can be eradicated.”
Aryan’s expression darkened, his eyes flashing with something close to amusement. “Still so righteous, even after all these years. Tell me, Vishakha, how does it feel to fight against the very system that made you who you are? Do you ever wonder if your rebellion is just another form of servitude?”
She didn’t answer, her silence deliberate. Aryan’s words were calculated to provoke, to sow doubt. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed theatrically. “Still playing the stoic hero, I see. But you’re not the only one with plans.”
The hologram flickered, and the image behind Aryan shifted. A series of images and diagrams filled the screen—schematics of infrastructure, high-profile targets, and detailed operations spanning across Bharat Varsha.
“This,” Aryan said, gesturing to the projection, “is just the beginning. By the time you finish chasing shadows, the world will have already changed. And when it does, you’ll realize how futile your little crusade truly is.”
Vishakha’s jaw tightened. “We’ll see about that.”
Aryan leaned closer, his image almost lifelike. “You’re fighting a losing battle, Vishakha. You know it, and so does she.”
The mention of Amrita sent a spike of ice through Vishakha’s chest, but she didn’t let it show.
Aryan smiled faintly, as if he could sense her reaction. “She’s more committed to the cause than you ever were. You may think you’ve chosen the moral high ground, but all you’ve done is abandon her. Just like you abandoned the rest of us.”
“She made her choice,” Vishakha said, her voice low but firm.
“And you made yours,” Aryan replied. “But tell me, Vishakha—how will it feel when you’re forced to kill her? Because you will, you know. Sooner or later, you’ll have to.”
The projection blinked off before she could respond, leaving the room in silence. The only sound was the faint hum of the servers and her own measured breathing.
“Vishakha,” Dev’s voice cut through the stillness. “Are you okay?”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. “Fine. Is the data downloaded?”
“Yeah, but you’ve got a problem,” he said, his tone tense. “There’s a team closing in on your location, and they’re armed to the teeth. You need to move. Now.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling the flash drive from the console, she sheathed her katars and slipped into the shadows. The warehouse was a labyrinth of corridors and stairwells, and she moved through them with practiced ease, her steps silent and deliberate.
The sound of boots echoed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second.
“Exit’s two levels down,” Dev said. “You’ll need to move fast if you want to avoid them.”
“Working on it,” she murmured, her focus sharp.
She reached the stairwell and descended quickly, her body moving like a shadow. The second she stepped onto the ground floor, the sound of pursuit grew louder—close, too close.
“Vishakha,” Dev’s voice came urgently. “You’ve got company on your tail. I’m rerouting traffic in the area to give you some cover, but you need to get to the alley on the west side. There’s an exit point waiting for you.”
“Understood,” she said, already moving.
The warehouse’s west exit led to a narrow alley, its dim light offering little comfort. She darted into the alley just as the first operatives reached the door behind her.
Her Chhaya Cloak shimmered as she activated its camouflage, blending seamlessly with the shadows. The operatives scanned the area, their weapons raised, but she was already gone.
The rendezvous point was a dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of Chennai, its rusted exterior and crumbling walls a stark contrast to the high-tech urban core she had just escaped. Vishakha moved cautiously through the maze of abandoned machinery and stacks of rotting crates, her every step muffled by years of accumulated dust.
“Are you sure about this?” Dev’s voice came through her earpiece, laced with unease.
“No,” she admitted, her katars ready in her hands. “But it’s the only lead we’ve got.”
The data retrieved from the second target had pointed to this location—a hub where sleeper agents were supposedly receiving their final instructions. Vishakha’s plan was simple: intercept the instructions, disrupt the operation, and buy Chennai more time.
But as she approached the center of the warehouse, a faint noise made her pause. The unmistakable sound of boots on concrete echoed faintly in the distance.
“Someone’s here,” she said quietly.
Dev sighed. “Of course there is. Because nothing about today can be simple.”
Vishakha’s instincts screamed that something was wrong. The space was too quiet, too controlled, like a predator’s lair waiting for prey to stumble in. She adjusted her grip on her katars, her muscles coiling in preparation for whatever lay ahead.
The first attack came without warning. A blade sliced through the air from her right, forcing her to twist and dodge in a single fluid motion. The strike was fast, precise—too precise to be anything but a calculated ambush.
She turned sharply, her eyes locking onto her attacker.
Amrita.
Her twin stepped out from the shadows, her white-and-gold combat suit gleaming faintly in the dim light. The talwar in her hand glinted menacingly, its curved blade a perfect complement to her poised, almost regal stance.
“Vishakha,” Amrita said, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “You always did have a knack for walking into traps.”
Vishakha’s lips tightened. “Amrita.”
Her sister’s name felt heavy on her tongue, laden with years of unresolved tension and betrayal.
“I told Aryan you’d come,” Amrita continued, circling her like a predator stalking its prey. “You can’t help yourself. Always trying to fix things, always playing the hero. It’s pathetic, really.”
“I’m not here to play games,” Vishakha said, her voice cold. “Step aside.”
Amrita laughed softly, the sound devoid of warmth. “Step aside? Do you really think I’d let you ruin everything we’ve built?”
“You’re fighting for a lie,” Vishakha said, her katars glinting as she raised them. “The Shadow Order doesn’t stand for anything anymore. It’s just Aryan’s tool for power.”
Amrita’s eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. “You abandoned the Order, Vishakha. You abandoned me. Don’t you dare lecture me about loyalty.”
“I left because I saw the truth,” Vishakha shot back. “And you can too, if you’d stop blindly following Aryan’s orders.”
Amrita’s grip on her talwar tightened, her body tensing. “I don’t follow blindly. I follow purpose. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
Without another word, Amrita lunged.
The clash of steel on steel rang out through the warehouse as their weapons met. Vishakha’s katars moved with lightning speed, parrying Amrita’s strikes with a precision born of years of training. Amrita was relentless, her attacks sharp and deliberate, each one aimed to disarm or incapacitate.
“You’ve gotten better,” Vishakha said, her voice strained as she blocked a particularly brutal swing.
“And you’ve gotten slower,” Amrita retorted, her movements fluid and unyielding.
Their duel was a blur of motion, their styles distinct yet eerily similar. Vishakha’s agility and evasive maneuvers clashed with Amrita’s raw power and precision, each sister pushing the other to their limits.
But it wasn’t just a physical battle—it was a clash of ideologies, a war of wills.
“You think you’re so righteous,” Amrita spat, her strikes growing more aggressive. “But you’re just a coward. You ran away because you couldn’t handle the truth.”
“I ran because I refused to be a pawn,” Vishakha countered, her katars locking against Amrita’s talwar in a fierce struggle. “And I refuse to let Aryan turn you into one too.”
Amrita snarled, breaking the lock and spinning into a swift, calculated strike. Vishakha barely dodged, the blade slicing through the air inches from her face.
For a moment, the fight paused, both sisters breathing heavily as they circled each other.
“You can’t win this, Vishakha,” Amrita said, her voice lower now, almost soft. “Aryan’s vision is too big, too powerful. You’re just one person. What can you possibly hope to achieve?”
Vishakha’s gaze was steady, her voice unwavering. “Enough.”
The fight resumed, more brutal and desperate than before. Amrita’s strikes grew wilder, fueled by emotion, while Vishakha’s movements became sharper, more focused.
Finally, with a calculated feint, Vishakha disarmed Amrita, sending her talwar clattering to the ground. She stepped forward, her katars poised for a final strike, but she hesitated.
Amrita glared up at her, defiance blazing in her eyes. “Do it,” she hissed. “Prove me right. Prove you’re just as ruthless as Aryan says you are.”
Vishakha’s hands trembled, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. But before she could decide, the sound of reinforcements echoed through the warehouse.
“They’re here,” Dev’s voice cut in urgently. “You need to get out, now!”
Vishakha stepped back, her gaze never leaving Amrita. “This isn’t over.”
Amrita smirked faintly, her voice laced with venom. “No. It’s just beginning.”
Vishakha turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Amrita behind.
The night air was heavy with the scent of rain-soaked earth as Vishakha moved through the quiet streets of Chennai, her senses sharp and her katars sheathed but ready. The city seemed subdued, its usual vibrancy dampened by the Shadow Order’s growing influence. Every step felt like it carried the weight of unseen eyes, and she couldn’t shake the unease that prickled at the back of her neck.
“Status?” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of distant traffic.
Dev’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “No new pings on your location, but that fight with Amrita stirred the hornet’s nest. They know you’re still in the city.”
“I’ll move fast,” she said, scanning the street for potential threats.
Her destination was another of the sleeper agent locations—a logistics hub near the port. The facility was supposed to serve as a critical distribution point for the Order’s supplies and communications. Disabling it would cripple their operations in Chennai.
She slipped into an alley, her Chhaya Cloak rendering her nearly invisible as she moved closer to the facility’s perimeter. The building was a stark, functional structure, its concrete walls and barbed-wire fencing exuding a sense of cold efficiency. Security cameras dotted the exterior, their lenses sweeping the area in slow, methodical arcs.
“Cameras are standard rotation,” Dev said. “No thermal sensors. You’ve got about eight seconds per gap.”
“Understood,” she replied, timing her approach perfectly.
She scaled the fence with practiced ease, her movements silent and deliberate. Once inside, she crouched low, her eyes scanning the yard for guards. Two patrolled near the main entrance, their postures casual but their weapons ready.
Vishakha moved quickly, slipping into the shadows and bypassing the guards without a sound. She reached the building’s side door and picked the lock with deft precision, slipping inside before anyone could notice.
The interior was a labyrinth of storage racks and crates, each one labeled with cryptic markings that hinted at their contents. She moved cautiously, her footsteps muffled by the rubber soles of her boots.
“Dev, I’m in,” she whispered.
“Good,” he replied. “You’re looking for a control terminal near the central loading bay. Should be straight ahead.”
She advanced through the maze of crates, her senses on high alert. The facility was eerily quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of machinery and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.
When she reached the central loading bay, she spotted the terminal—a sleek console embedded in the wall, its interface glowing faintly in the dim light. She approached it cautiously, her hand resting on the hilt of her katar.
The moment she touched the terminal, she knew something was wrong. The interface flickered, and the lights in the bay abruptly brightened. A faint hiss echoed through the air as concealed vents released a thin, almost imperceptible mist.
“Dev,” she said sharply, “it’s a trap.”
Before he could respond, a low, mechanical hum filled the space. Dozens of hidden panels in the walls slid open, revealing automated turrets and armed operatives. Red laser sights cut through the mist, all converging on her position.
“Vishakha,” a familiar voice called, smooth and mocking.
She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as Amrita stepped into view. Her younger twin was flanked by two heavily armed guards, her white-and-gold combat suit pristine despite the earlier fight.
“I told you it was just beginning,” Amrita said, a faint smile playing at her lips.
Vishakha’s katars were in her hands in an instant, her body tense and ready for a fight. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
Amrita tilted her head, her smile widening. “Oh, I’m not here to fight. Not yet, anyway. This isn’t a duel, sister. It’s a capture.”
The turrets whirred ominously, their barrels tracking her every move. Vishakha calculated her odds, her mind racing through possible escape routes. But the mist was already taking its toll. Her vision blurred slightly, and her limbs felt heavier with each passing second.
“Neurotoxin,” Amrita said casually, as if commenting on the weather. “Not lethal, of course. Just enough to slow you down.”
Vishakha lunged toward her sister, but her movements were sluggish, uncoordinated. The guards intercepted her easily, their grips like iron as they forced her to her knees.
Amrita crouched in front of her, her expression almost sympathetic. “You could’ve stayed away, you know. Lived out your days as a ghost. But you had to come back. You just couldn’t let it go.”
Vishakha glared at her, her voice low and defiant. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
Amrita’s smile faded, replaced by cold determination. “I understand perfectly. And so does Aryan. That’s why he sent me to deal with you.”
The guards secured her wrists with heavy-duty restraints, their touch impersonal but efficient. Vishakha struggled weakly, her body betraying her as the neurotoxin took full effect.
Amrita stood, looking down at her with an air of finality. “Take her to the stronghold,” she ordered the guards. “Aryan will want to see her personally.”
As they dragged Vishakha away, the faint hum of the facility’s machinery seemed to echo mockingly in her ears.
“Dev,” she whispered weakly into her earpiece, but there was no response.
The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Amrita’s cold, triumphant smile.
The world came back in pieces—blurry edges, muted sounds, and the dull ache of restrained limbs. Vishakha blinked slowly, her senses sluggish as she fought to orient herself. The air was cold and sterile, carrying a faint metallic tang that reminded her of the Chhaya Institution’s training chambers.
She was seated in a chair, her wrists secured to the armrests by metal cuffs. The room was stark and minimalistic, its walls lined with screens displaying data feeds and surveillance footage. Overhead, fluorescent lights cast a harsh, unforgiving glow.
“Well, well,” a voice drawled, smooth and familiar.
Vishakha’s head snapped up despite the haze, her body tensing instinctively. Amrita stood a few feet away, her arms crossed and her white-and-gold combat suit pristine as ever. Behind her, a pair of armed guards flanked the room’s single exit.
“Awake at last,” Amrita said, her tone laced with mockery. “For a moment, I thought Aryan had underestimated your resilience.”
Vishakha forced herself to focus, her mind pushing past the fog. “Where am I?”
Amrita smirked. “Somewhere you’ll never leave.”
Vishakha’s jaw tightened, but she refused to show fear. Instead, she leaned back in the chair, her gaze steady. “You went through a lot of trouble for one rogue operative. Feeling threatened?”
Amrita’s smirk faltered, her expression hardening. “Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you. It’s about cleaning up the mess you made when you betrayed the Order.”
“And you’re Aryan’s little clean-up crew?” Vishakha shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. “How noble.”
Amrita stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Careful, sister. You’re in no position to lecture me.”
“Neither are you,” Vishakha retorted. “You’re just another tool in Aryan’s game. A pawn who thinks she’s a queen.”
The words struck a nerve, and for a moment, Amrita’s composure cracked. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“I’m not the one chained to a chair,” she said coldly, recovering quickly.
“No,” Vishakha replied, her voice low and cutting. “You’re the one chained to a lie.”
Amrita moved so quickly that even Vishakha couldn’t anticipate it. Her hand shot out, grabbing Vishakha’s chin and forcing her to look up. Their faces were inches apart, and the fury in Amrita’s eyes burned brighter than any of Vishakha’s taunts.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Amrita hissed. “You ran away the moment things got hard. You abandoned me. You abandoned all of us.”
Vishakha met her gaze unflinchingly. “I abandoned a system that turned us into weapons. I abandoned Aryan’s lies. And I’ll abandon you again if you keep following him.”
Amrita released her with a shove, stepping back as if the contact had burned her. “You think you’re better than me? Than us? You’re no saint, Vishakha. You’ve killed just as many as I have. Your hands are just as bloody.”
“Maybe,” Vishakha said quietly, her tone devoid of the venom she’d wielded moments earlier. “But I’m trying to do something about it. Can you say the same?”
The silence that followed was heavy, charged with tension neither sister was willing to break.
Finally, Amrita straightened, her mask of cold detachment slipping back into place. “You’ll see soon enough,” she said, her voice steady but hollow. “Aryan will make you understand.”
She turned and gestured to the guards. “Take her to the observation chamber. Aryan wants her to see what’s coming.”
The guards moved toward Vishakha, their grips firm as they unlatched her restraints and pulled her to her feet. Her body protested the movement, the lingering effects of the neurotoxin making her limbs sluggish.
“Amrita,” Vishakha said as they dragged her toward the door.
Her sister paused, glancing over her shoulder.
“This isn’t over,” Vishakha said, her voice filled with quiet conviction.
Amrita’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though it held no warmth. “No. It’s just beginning.”
The observation chamber was a large, glass-walled room overlooking a cavernous space below. Rows of consoles and holographic displays filled the floor, manned by Shadow Order operatives in dark uniforms. At the center of the room was a massive, cylindrical device pulsing with faint blue light—a core of some sort, its purpose ominously unclear.
Vishakha was forced to her knees, her wrists restrained behind her back. The guards stepped aside, leaving her to watch as Aryan Suryavanshi stepped into view.
He moved with the confidence of a man who had already won, his ceremonial armor gleaming under the harsh lights. He stopped in front of her, his piercing gaze raking over her as if appraising a prize.
“Vishakha,” he said, his voice rich with mockery. “It’s been too long.”
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with defiance. “Not long enough.”
Aryan chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Still as sharp as ever. I’d almost forgotten how much fun you were.”
“What do you want?” she demanded.
His smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. “What I’ve always wanted. Control. Balance. Order.” He gestured toward the core below. “And thanks to this, I’m closer than ever.”
“What is it?” Vishakha asked, her voice steady despite the sinking feeling in her chest.
Aryan’s smile returned, sharp and cruel. “A central node. The culmination of years of planning. With this, the Shadow Order’s influence will extend beyond Bharat Varsha. Every sleeper agent, every operative—connected, controlled, unstoppable.”
Vishakha’s heart sank, but her voice remained calm. “You won’t get away with it.”
Aryan laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the chamber. “Oh, Vishakha. I already have.”
He turned to Amrita, who stood silently at his side. “Show her the power of the Order.”
Amrita nodded, her expression unreadable as she stepped toward the console. Her fingers danced over the controls, and the core below began to pulse more intensely. The room vibrated faintly as its energy built, the air charged with a tangible sense of dread.
Vishakha’s mind raced, searching for a way out, a way to stop what was unfolding before her. But for now, she could do nothing but watch as Aryan’s vision of control began to take shape.