Chapter 2: The Vanishing Dharma
The slums of Kolkata stretched out like a maze of tin and tarp, the air heavy with the scent of cooking fires and sewage. Children darted through narrow lanes, their laughter a sharp contrast to the despair etched into the faces of the adults. Veera, her Trishula slung across her back, walked purposefully through the alleys with Ishaan and Simhendra at her side.
“This place feels…broken,” Veera said softly, her fiery eyes scanning the cramped and crumbling structures.
“It’s not just broken,” Ishaan replied, stepping over a puddle. “It’s forgotten. The city grows around them, but nobody looks back. These people are invisible to those in power.”
A group of women stood nearby, their saris faded and patched, their expressions weary. At the sight of Veera and her companions, they whispered among themselves, hope flickering briefly in their eyes.
One of the women stepped forward, clutching a photograph to her chest. “Please, Devi,” she said, her voice trembling. “Help us. They’ve taken my daughter.”
Veera knelt before the woman, her gaze softening. “Who has taken her?”
The woman hesitated, glancing at the others. “We don’t know. They come at night, shadows that steal our children. No one sees, no one hears. My little Tara…she’s only eight.”
Ishaan took out his notebook. “How many children have gone missing?” he asked gently.
“Ten,” another woman said, stepping forward. “No—twelve now. All from our lanes. The police…they do nothing. They say our children are runaways, that we are lying.”
Veera’s jaw tightened. “Adharma thrives when those in power turn a blind eye,” she said, rising to her feet. “I will find your children. This, I vow.”
The women murmured prayers as Veera, Ishaan, and Simhendra continued deeper into the slums.
The slums grew quieter as Veera, Ishaan, and Simhendra ventured deeper into the labyrinth of narrow alleys and rusted shacks. Shadows lengthened under the pale light of the fading sun, casting an eerie stillness over the settlement.
“Children don’t just vanish,” Ishaan muttered, scanning the area as he scribbled notes in his notebook. “There has to be a trail, someone who saw something.”
Veera remained silent, her fiery gaze sweeping the surroundings. Her grip tightened on her Trishula, the weapon humming faintly with energy as if resonating with her anger.
A soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “I saw them.”
Veera turned sharply to see a young boy, no older than ten, standing near a broken fence. His clothes hung loosely on his thin frame, and his wide eyes reflected both fear and determination.
“You saw the ones who took the children?” Veera asked, kneeling to meet his gaze.
The boy nodded, glancing nervously at Ishaan and Simhendra. “At night…there are shadows. Big ones. They come with a black van. They take the kids and drive toward the old factory.”
“What kind of shadows?” Ishaan asked, crouching beside Veera.
The boy hesitated, his gaze darting to Veera. “Not normal shadows,” he whispered. “Their eyes glow red. They…don’t move like people.”
Veera exchanged a glance with Simhendra, whose golden eyes narrowed. “Asuras,” she said, her voice low but certain.
“What do they want with children?” Ishaan asked, his tone incredulous.
“Adharma feeds on the vulnerable,” Veera replied grimly. “To harm the innocent is to tip the scales of balance into chaos. This is the work of an Asura.”
The boy shuffled his feet nervously. “Can you stop them?”
Veera placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression resolute. “Yes,” she said. “You have been brave to speak. Now stay safe and leave this to me.”
The boy nodded quickly before disappearing into the maze of alleys.
As they continued toward the edge of the slums, Ishaan frowned. “So, we’re up against glowing-eyed shadow kidnappers. Great. This just keeps getting better.”
Veera didn’t respond. Her focus was unshaken, her pace quickening as Simhendra growled softly, his mane shimmering faintly in the dim light.
“We find the factory,” Veera said, her tone sharp. “And we bring justice.”
The further Veera, Ishaan, and Simhendra moved through the slums, the more uneasy the atmosphere became. The once-busy alleys were now eerily quiet, the residents retreating into their homes. The occasional bark of a stray dog broke the silence, but it only seemed to amplify the tension hanging in the air.
As they turned a corner, raised voices reached their ears. Veera’s steps slowed, and she raised a hand to signal Ishaan to stop.
“Give us what we’re owed, old man!”
A group of men stood in the center of a narrow lane, their faces obscured by scarves. They surrounded an elderly man sitting against the wall, his frail body hunched in fear. One of the thugs held a makeshift iron rod, tapping it menacingly against the wall.
“I don’t have it,” the old man stammered, his voice trembling. “I told you, I need more time.”
“More time?” one of the men sneered. “You’ve been saying that for weeks. If you don’t pay up, we’ll take what’s left of your shop—and maybe a little more.”
Veera’s fiery eyes narrowed. “Adharma,” she said under her breath.
Ishaan grabbed her arm, his voice urgent. “Hey, maybe we should wait and call the police. This could get—”
Before he could finish, Veera stepped forward, her Trishula gleaming in the dim light.
The sound of her armor and the heavy fall of her boots drew the thugs’ attention. They turned to face her, their sneering expressions faltering when they saw her golden armor and the celestial lion at her side.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” one of them asked, raising his iron rod.
“I am Veera,” she said, her voice like thunder. “Guardian of Dharma. And you will leave this man in peace.”
The lead thug laughed nervously, trying to mask his unease. “Guardian of what? Lady, this isn’t a fairy tale. Go home before you get hurt.”
Veera’s gaze sharpened, and she raised her Trishula, the weapon’s divine energy crackling faintly. “You will not harm him,” she said, stepping closer. “Leave now, or face the consequences of your actions.”
The thug’s confidence faltered, but he motioned to his companions. “Get her!”
The first man lunged at Veera with his iron rod, but she sidestepped his attack effortlessly. Her Trishula swept through the air, its energy flaring as she struck the rod, shattering it into pieces.
Another thug swung a chain at her, but Simhendra leapt forward, his massive form colliding with the man and sending him sprawling to the ground. The lion roared, the sound reverberating through the alley, causing the remaining thugs to hesitate.
“Run!” one of them shouted, dropping his weapon and bolting into the shadows. The others quickly followed, their fear outweighing their greed.
The lead thug stumbled backward, his eyes wide as Veera advanced on him. “Please,” he begged, dropping to his knees. “I didn’t mean to—”
Veera lowered her weapon, her fiery gaze piercing through him. “You disrupt the balance of this world with your greed and violence,” she said. “Swear to me now—you will not harm the innocent again.”
The man nodded frantically. “I swear! I swear!”
“Then go,” Veera commanded. “But know this: if you break your oath, I will find you.”
The thug scrambled to his feet and ran after his companions, disappearing into the labyrinth of alleys.
Veera turned back to the old man, who was still slumped against the wall, his hands trembling. She knelt beside him, her expression softening. “You are safe now,” she said gently.
The man looked up at her, his eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you, Devi,” he whispered, bowing his head.
“I am no Devi,” Veera said, helping him to his feet. “I am Veera. And I will always stand against Adharma.”
The man nodded, his voice trembling as he spoke. “May the gods bless you, Veera.”
As the old man shuffled away, Ishaan stepped forward, his phone still in his hand. “Okay,” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “That was…intense.”
Veera picked up her Trishula, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “This was but a small battle,” she said. “The true threat lies in the factory. We must move quickly.”
Simhendra padded to her side, his golden mane shimmering faintly in the low light. Together, they continued their journey, the fight for Dharma far from over.
The winding paths of the slums seemed to close in as Veera, Ishaan, and Simhendra pressed onward, guided by the faint scent of smoke and oil lingering in the air. The earlier confrontation had left Veera’s senses heightened, her grip tightening on her Trishula with each step.
“What are we even looking for now?” Ishaan asked, his voice low as they turned a corner.
“Answers,” Veera replied simply. “The shadows do not hide without reason.”
Ahead, the faint sound of hurried footsteps reached their ears. Simhendra growled softly, his golden mane bristling as Veera raised a hand to signal caution. They rounded the corner to find one of the thugs from the earlier encounter scrambling to climb a chain-link fence.
“You cannot run from justice,” Veera said, her voice cutting through the alley like a blade.
The man froze, his hands gripping the fence tightly. Slowly, he turned, his face pale and sweat-streaked. “I told you, I don’t know anything!” he stammered.
“Lies,” Veera said, stepping closer. The glow of her armor and the crackling energy of her Trishula made the man shrink back in terror. “You and your kind have seen the shadows. You know who commands them. Speak, or face the judgment of Dharma.”
The thug dropped to his knees, his hands raised in surrender. “Please, I don’t want any trouble! They’ll kill me if I talk!”
“They will not have the chance,” Veera said firmly. “Tell me what you know, and you will have my protection.”
The man hesitated, his eyes darting between Veera and Simhendra, whose low growl left no doubt about his readiness to strike. Finally, the thug spoke, his voice trembling.
“They take orders from someone higher up,” he said. “A man named Raktashur. He’s got operations all over the city—factories, warehouses, shipping lines. Nobody crosses him. The shadows…the glowing eyes…those are his enforcers.”
“Enforcers?” Ishaan interjected, stepping closer. “What kind of enforcers are we talking about? Are they even human?”
The thug shook his head. “No. They’re…something else. They don’t talk, don’t feel pain. They just obey. People say they’re not from this world.”
Veera’s expression hardened. “Asuras,” she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
Ishaan exhaled sharply. “Great. So, a whole army of Asura minions. This just keeps getting better.”
The thug’s hands began to shake. “That’s all I know, I swear! Just don’t—”
Before he could finish, Simhendra’s nose flared, and the lion turned sharply toward the far end of the alley. A faint, acrid scent wafted through the air—oil, smoke, and something darker, something unnatural.
“What is it?” Ishaan asked, following Simhendra’s gaze.
Veera stepped forward, her fiery eyes scanning the shadows. “The Asura’s mark,” she said. “It lingers like a stain on the world. Simhendra has found its trail.”
The thug scrambled to his feet, edging away from the group. “You don’t need me anymore, right? I can go?”
Veera’s gaze snapped back to him. “Go,” she said, her tone cold. “But remember this: should you cross into Adharma again, I will find you.”
The man nodded frantically before disappearing into the maze of alleys.
Veera turned to Simhendra, who had begun pacing, his golden eyes fixed on the distant end of the alley. “Lead us,” she said. “Take us to the source.”
Simhendra growled low and padded forward, his powerful frame moving with purpose. Ishaan hesitated but followed closely, his phone ready in case they stumbled onto something significant.
“So, this Raktashur guy,” Ishaan said, breaking the silence. “What’s his deal? Is he human or another Asura?”
“If he commands the shadows and their glowing eyes,” Veera said, her voice steady, “he is not human. No mortal can summon such darkness without losing their soul.”
“Fantastic,” Ishaan muttered. “We’re up against some ancient demon overlord. No pressure.”
Veera didn’t respond. Her focus remained fixed on the path ahead, the faint scent of corruption growing stronger with each step. The fight for Dharma had only just begun, and the shadows were already closing in.
Simhendra’s pace quickened, his movements purposeful as he guided Veera and Ishaan through the slums. The lion’s massive frame, his golden mane shimmering faintly under the dim streetlights, was a beacon of otherworldly presence against the squalor of the alleys.
The acrid scent of oil and smoke thickened, and the air grew colder as they approached the outskirts of the settlement. The hum of distant machinery rumbled faintly, breaking the silence of the night.
“I’m guessing we’re not headed to an ice cream parlor,” Ishaan muttered, keeping close to Veera as he clutched his phone.
Simhendra stopped abruptly, his nostrils flaring as he growled low, his eyes fixed on a crumbling factory in the distance. The building stood alone at the edge of the slums, its rusted walls covered in graffiti and its towering smokestacks dormant but ominous.
“There,” Veera said, her voice steady. “The stench of Adharma is strongest here.”
Ishaan squinted at the factory. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years. What could they possibly be doing in there?”
“Adharma thrives where it is least expected,” Veera replied, gripping her Trishula tightly. “Prepare yourself.”
The trio moved cautiously toward the factory, their footsteps muffled against the gravel-strewn ground. Simhendra led the way, his growl a constant reminder of the danger ahead. Veera’s senses were heightened, her fiery eyes scanning the darkened windows for any sign of movement.
As they reached the entrance, a faint noise stopped them—a low, guttural sound that seemed to vibrate through the air. Simhendra’s growl deepened, his mane bristling as he crouched low, ready to pounce.
“What was that?” Ishaan whispered, his voice barely audible.
Veera didn’t answer. She pushed the rusted door open, the hinges creaking loudly in the stillness. Inside, the factory was a maze of abandoned machinery and shadowed corners. The air was thick with the smell of burnt oil and something fouler, something that clawed at the edges of her senses.
Simhendra sniffed the air and padded forward, his glowing eyes scanning the darkness. Veera followed closely, her Trishula crackling faintly as she prepared for the worst.
As they moved deeper into the factory, the guttural sound grew louder. It was accompanied by faint whispers, unintelligible but unnerving. Ishaan’s hand trembled as he aimed his phone’s flashlight at the walls, revealing claw marks and strange symbols etched into the rusted metal.
“Veera,” he said, his voice shaking. “What…what are those?”
Veera examined the symbols, her expression grim. “Marks of corruption,” she said. “An Asura’s influence. The shadows have been here.”
Simhendra stopped abruptly, his ears twitching as he let out a sharp growl. Ahead, faint movement caught Veera’s eye—a figure darting between the shadows of the machinery.
“Stay close,” Veera commanded, her voice low but firm.
The trio moved carefully, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. As they rounded a corner, the scene before them made Ishaan gasp.
A group of children huddled in a corner, their faces pale and streaked with tears. They were bound by ropes, their hands tied and their mouths gagged. Around them, dark figures prowled, their glowing red eyes casting an eerie light in the dim room.
“Asuras,” Veera said under her breath.
Ishaan froze, his phone trembling in his hand. “What do we do?” he whispered.
Veera stepped forward, her Trishula blazing to life with a burst of golden energy. “We fight,” she said, her voice ringing with unshakable resolve.
Simhendra roared, the sound reverberating through the factory as the red-eyed shadows turned toward them. The fight for the children—and for Dharma—had begun.
The Asuras’ glowing red eyes fixed on Veera and her companions, their movements unnaturally fluid as they stepped forward. Their forms were shadowy and indistinct, flickering like dying flames, yet their presence radiated malice.
Veera raised her Trishula, its golden energy illuminating the room. The light reflected off the terrified faces of the bound children in the corner, their muffled cries filling the air.
“Release them,” Veera commanded, her voice resonating with authority. “Or face the wrath of Dharma.”
The Asuras hissed in unison, a guttural sound that echoed through the factory. They advanced, their clawed hands slicing through the air as their distorted forms began to surround the trio.
Simhendra roared, his mane flaring with golden light as he leapt forward, colliding with the nearest shadowy figure. His claws raked through its form, scattering dark tendrils that dissolved into the air. Another Asura lunged at him, but Simhendra spun, his massive frame knocking it into a stack of rusted pipes with a deafening crash.
Veera stepped into the fray, her Trishula spinning with precision. The first Asura to meet her strike let out a shriek as the divine weapon tore through its chest, its form dissipating in a burst of black smoke. Another attacked from the side, its claws aimed at her neck, but she twisted gracefully, slamming the weapon’s staff into its midsection and sending it sprawling to the ground.
Ishaan stayed back, his phone trembling in his hands as he recorded the chaotic scene. “This is insane,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “These things…they’re not human!”
“They are Asuras,” Veera said, her gaze never leaving the enemy. “Born of Adharma, they exist only to destroy balance.”
As more shadows surged forward, Veera planted her feet firmly, channeling divine energy into her weapon. The Trishula blazed with golden fire, and she swung it in a wide arc, the energy creating a shockwave that sent the Asuras recoiling.
Simhendra roared again, his jaws clamping down on the arm of a shadowy figure. With a powerful shake, he tore the Asura apart, its form dissolving into black mist. The remaining creatures hesitated, their movements faltering as they faced the combined might of Veera and her companion.
“Now,” Veera commanded, gesturing to the children. “Free them.”
Ishaan snapped out of his daze and rushed to the corner, pulling a pocketknife from his bag. He cut through the ropes binding the children, his movements frantic but careful. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice steadying. “We’re here to help.”
The children scrambled to their feet, their wide eyes darting between Veera and the shadowy creatures. “Stay behind me,” Ishaan said, guiding them toward the far wall.
The remaining Asuras let out an ear-piercing screech and charged. Veera met them head-on, her Trishula moving with deadly precision. Each strike sent waves of divine energy through the factory, breaking machinery and scattering debris.
One of the creatures managed to slip past her, its glowing eyes locked on Ishaan and the children. Simhendra intercepted it with a thunderous leap, pinning it to the ground with his massive paws. His roar shook the walls as he tore the creature apart, leaving nothing but a dark smear on the floor.
Veera drove her weapon into the final Asura, the divine fire coursing through it until it disintegrated. The room fell silent, save for the labored breathing of the children and the faint hum of Veera’s Trishula as its light dimmed.
Ishaan straightened, his hands still trembling as he looked around the wreckage. “Are they…gone?” he asked.
“For now,” Veera said, lowering her weapon. She turned to Simhendra, who stood protectively in front of the children, his golden eyes scanning the shadows. “But the battle is far from over.”
One of the children stepped forward, clutching Veera’s tunic. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Veera knelt, placing a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You are safe,” she said gently. “No harm will come to you now.”
Ishaan looked around the factory, his gaze landing on a desk piled with papers and folders. “Hey,” he said, pointing. “That might tell us something.”
Veera followed his gaze, her expression hardening. “Gather the children,” she said. “I will investigate.”
Veera strode toward the desk in the corner of the factory, her Trishula still crackling faintly with residual divine energy. The makeshift workspace was cluttered with papers, old ledgers, and maps, all dusted with grime. Simhendra watched from a distance, his golden eyes still scanning the room for any lingering threats.
Ishaan stood near the children, his phone in one hand and a flashlight in the other. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” he said. “You do your…divine detective thing.”
Veera ignored his comment, her focus on the documents before her. She sifted through the piles quickly, her sharp eyes scanning for anything significant. Most of the papers were mundane—inventory lists, outdated shipping manifests—until her fingers landed on a thick folder labeled with a single word: Raktashur.
Her grip tightened as she opened the folder. Inside were photographs of various locations around the city—factories, warehouses, even residential areas—each marked with red circles. Scrawled notes accompanied the images, detailing shipments, schedules, and coded instructions.
“This name appears again,” Veera muttered. “Raktashur.”
Ishaan approached cautiously, peering over her shoulder. “Looks like this guy’s running some kind of operation. These are logistics. Transport routes, distribution hubs…this is organized crime on steroids.”
Veera’s fiery gaze locked onto one of the maps. A large red X was marked near the docks, with the date “TOMORROW” scribbled in bold letters beside it.
“What is this?” Veera asked, pointing to the map.
Ishaan leaned closer. “Looks like a shipment of some kind. Whatever it is, it’s happening soon. Maybe it’s connected to the kidnappings.”
Before Veera could respond, Simhendra growled low, drawing their attention. The lion’s mane flared briefly as he sniffed the air, his posture tense.
“More trouble?” Ishaan asked nervously.
“No,” Veera said, rising to her feet and gripping the folder tightly. “The shadows are gone. But their master’s presence lingers here.”
She turned to the children, who huddled together near the corner, their frightened eyes watching her every move. “We must leave,” Veera said, her voice firm but reassuring. “It is not safe here.”
Ishaan nodded, helping the children to their feet. “There’s a safe house nearby,” he said. “A shelter run by volunteers. They’ll take care of the kids.”
Veera’s expression softened as she looked at the children. “You have endured much,” she said gently. “But you are brave. Remember that courage, for it is the light that dispels darkness.”
One of the children, a boy with tear-streaked cheeks, stepped forward. “Will…will the bad people come back?” he asked, his voice trembling.
Veera knelt to his level, her fiery gaze meeting his. “Not while I am here,” she said.
The boy nodded slowly, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes.
As they left the factory, Veera handed the folder to Ishaan. “Study this,” she said. “Learn everything you can about Raktashur and his operations. We must stop him before his plans unfold.”
Ishaan took the folder, his brow furrowed. “You’re not wrong, but this is way bigger than just a few thugs or kidnappings. If this Raktashur guy is as connected as these documents suggest, he’s got half the city in his pocket.”
“Adharma spreads like a disease,” Veera said. “But it can be uprooted if faced with unwavering resolve.”
Ishaan sighed, tucking the folder into his bag. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is not simple,” Veera replied. “But it is necessary.”
Simhendra walked ahead, his golden mane shimmering faintly in the moonlight. As they made their way back toward the shelter, Veera’s mind lingered on the name: Raktashur. The Asura’s presence was undeniable now, his corruption seeping into the city like poison.
This was no longer just a fight to rescue children. It was a battle for the very soul of Kolkata.
The safe house was a modest building tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far from the bustling streets and prying eyes. Inside, Veera leaned against a wooden table, her Trishula resting nearby. Simhendra lay curled at her feet, his golden mane glowing faintly in the dim light. Across the room, Ishaan sat with his laptop open, the folder of documents spread out beside him.
“This Raktashur guy isn’t just some local thug,” Ishaan said, scrolling through a series of articles. “He’s got influence. According to this, he’s a high-ranking industrialist who owns multiple factories, shipping lines, and even a couple of real estate ventures. The public thinks he’s a legitimate businessman.”
Veera’s gaze remained fixed on the map she had taken from the folder. The red X near the docks seemed to burn into her mind. “Adharma often hides behind wealth and power,” she said. “But it cannot remain concealed forever.”
Ishaan frowned, clicking through another tab. “Here’s the thing—there’s no direct connection between Raktashur and the kidnappings. At least, not on the surface. He’s careful. He uses shell companies and intermediaries to keep his name clean.”
Veera stepped closer, her fiery eyes narrowing. “And yet his influence taints everything it touches,” she said. “These shadows, the Asuras—they serve him. That alone is proof of his guilt.”
“Maybe,” Ishaan said, typing rapidly. “But we need more than that if we’re going to stop him. The police won’t listen to stories about glowing-eyed demons. We need hard evidence.”
Simhendra stirred, lifting his head to sniff the air. The lion let out a soft growl, and Veera placed a hand on his mane. “Simhendra senses the urgency,” she said. “We cannot delay.”
Ishaan looked up from his screen, his expression torn. “I get that, but rushing in without a plan isn’t going to help. If this shipment at the docks is connected to Raktashur, we need to figure out what’s in it, who’s involved, and how to expose it.”
Veera’s jaw tightened, her fiery demeanor barely restrained. “Your world’s tools are strange and slow,” she said. “In Aryavarta, we acted swiftly to restore balance.”
“This isn’t Aryavarta,” Ishaan shot back. “Here, people don’t just believe in Dharma. They need proof.”
Veera regarded him for a long moment before nodding. “Then use your tools,” she said. “But do so quickly. The balance of this city grows weaker with every moment we waste.”
Over the next hour, Ishaan worked tirelessly, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Veera watched in silence, her presence steady and commanding. Occasionally, she would glance at the children sleeping in the corner, their faces finally at peace.
“There,” Ishaan said, breaking the silence. “I found something.”
Veera stepped closer as Ishaan pointed to his screen. “Raktashur’s company, Triton Industries, owns the warehouse at the docks. They’re registered to receive a shipment tomorrow night. No details on what’s inside, but the cargo is flagged as ‘high priority.’”
“And the shadows?” Veera asked.
“Nothing concrete,” Ishaan admitted. “But I did find this.” He pulled up a grainy security footage still showing a group of men unloading crates from a truck. A faint red glow emanated from the edges of the image, barely visible but unmistakable.
“The mark of an Asura,” Veera said, her voice low.
Ishaan nodded. “This shipment could be the key to everything. If we can figure out what’s in those crates, we might finally have something solid to bring him down.”
Veera turned to Simhendra, her hand resting on his mane. “Prepare yourself,” she said softly. “Tomorrow, we uncover the truth.”
Simhendra growled in response, his golden eyes burning with determination.
Ishaan leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “This is way bigger than I expected,” he said. “We’re going up against someone who has the resources to crush anyone who gets in his way.”
“Adharma thrives on fear,” Veera said. “But it cannot stand against those who are unafraid to act.”
Ishaan sighed, closing his laptop. “Well, here’s hoping you’re right.”
The night stretched on, but Veera’s resolve remained unshaken. Tomorrow, the docks would reveal the truth behind Raktashur’s operations—and with it, the next step in her fight to restore balance to the world.
The following morning, the streets of Kolkata were alive with their usual chaos. Vendors shouted their prices, rickshaws weaved through traffic, and people bustled from one place to another, heads down, shoulders hunched. It was a city teeming with life, yet under its surface, Veera could feel the ever-present hum of imbalance.
She stood at a corner near a police station, her golden armor veiled by a simple shawl draped over her shoulders. Ishaan stood beside her, clutching the folder containing the evidence they had gathered.
“Are you sure about this?” Ishaan asked, glancing warily at the station.
“We must try,” Veera said firmly. “If the protectors of this city will not act, its people are left vulnerable. That is not balance—it is betrayal.”
Ishaan hesitated but nodded. “Fine. Let’s see if they’ll even listen.”
The two stepped into the station, where the hum of fans overhead mixed with the clatter of typewriters and the occasional bark of an officer. The air was stale, the walls yellowed with age.
A desk sergeant barely looked up as they approached. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone curt.
“We have evidence of criminal activity at the docks,” Ishaan said, sliding the folder onto the counter. “Kidnappings, illegal shipments—it’s all tied to a man named Raktashur.”
The sergeant flipped through the folder lazily, his expression bored. “Raktashur?” he scoffed. “You’re talking about one of the city’s most respected businessmen. You’ve got some nerve coming in here with this nonsense.”
“It is not nonsense,” Veera said, her voice sharp enough to make the sergeant flinch. “Children have been taken, and Adharma festers under your watch. If you will not act, you are complicit in this crime.”
The sergeant glared at her. “Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but we don’t have time for fairy tales. Take your folder and leave before I charge you with wasting police time.”
Veera’s eyes blazed, but Ishaan placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.
Reluctantly, Veera turned and followed him out of the station.
Outside, Ishaan ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his every movement. “This is why people don’t trust the police,” he muttered. “They’re either too lazy or too scared to do anything.”
Veera’s jaw tightened. “They have abandoned their duty,” she said. “They are protectors in name only.”
She looked around at the bustling city, her fiery gaze scanning the faces of the people passing by. Most moved with hurried steps, their eyes averted, their focus inward.
“They do not see,” Veera said softly. “Their apathy feeds Adharma. It grows because they allow it to.”
“Can you blame them?” Ishaan asked. “Most people here are just trying to survive. They’re too busy worrying about their next meal to think about fighting crime lords and Asuras.”
“Survival is not an excuse to ignore injustice,” Veera said. “Dharma demands action from all who live within its balance.”
As they walked back to the safe house, a small crowd began to gather around a corner where a street performer was playing a lively tune. Veera paused, watching as the people laughed and clapped, their faces momentarily lit with joy.
“There is still hope,” she said, her tone softer. “The light of humanity shines even in darkness. It is fragile, but it can grow.”
Ishaan sighed, glancing at his phone. “Let’s hope that light is enough. Because if the police won’t help, it’s just us against Raktashur now.”
Veera’s expression hardened. “It has always been us,” she said. “But we will not falter.”
The apathy of the city weighed heavily on Veera’s mind as they returned to the safe house. Yet, amid her frustration, a spark of determination burned brighter. If the people of Kolkata would not act, she would show them how.
This city, and its balance, were worth fighting for.