Chapter 5: A Fractured Bond
The holy city of Ayodhya was ablaze. Its ancient temples, symbols of Bharat Varsha’s spiritual heritage, stood as crumbling silhouettes against a sky painted with the glow of fire. The city’s narrow streets were filled with chaos—panicked civilians fleeing as fiery constructs marched through the thoroughfares, their molten bodies consuming everything in their path.
The Agnivarnas struck without hesitation, their heat warping stone and metal alike. Sacred statues cracked under their relentless assault, and the air itself shimmered with waves of searing energy.
On the northern bank of the Sarayu River, a terrified family huddled in a crumbling temple, their prayers barely audible over the roar of the flames. The father held his children close, whispering reassurances he didn’t believe, while the mother glanced desperately at the approaching Agnivarna.
Suddenly, a glowing blue shield shimmered into existence, blocking the construct’s path. The flames collided with the barrier, fizzling into harmless sparks.
“Run!” Devi shouted, her shield glowing brighter as she absorbed another blast of heat. “Get to the boats on the river! Now!”
The family didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled out of the temple and toward the riverbank, where relief workers were ferrying civilians to safety.
Devi gritted her teeth, her shield flickering as the Agnivarna pressed harder against it. “Rudra! A little help here?”
From the temple’s ruined entrance, Rudra charged forward, his rocky fists slamming into the Agnivarna’s molten frame with a deafening crack. The impact sent tremors through the ground, and the construct staggered back, molten fragments splintering off its body.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this one,” Rudra growled, driving the Agnivarna toward the temple’s shattered gates. “You just keep those shields up.”
Devi didn’t respond, her focus entirely on protecting the fleeing civilians.
Across the city, Arya and Arun sprinted through the burning streets, their movements fluid and practiced. Arun unleashed controlled bursts of flame to counter smaller fires, creating safe passages for trapped families.
“You’re getting better at that,” Arya said, his voice calm even as his elongated limbs whipped out to pull a collapsed beam off a trapped merchant.
“Don’t jinx it,” Arun muttered, extinguishing another blaze with a carefully aimed burst. “I’ve only set myself on fire twice today.”
Ahead of them, a group of Agnivarnas gathered near the city’s central plaza, their combined heat warping the surrounding structures. Arya signaled for Arun to stop, his gaze narrowing.
“They’re converging here,” Arya said. “But why?”
“I don’t know,” Arun replied, flames flickering faintly in his hands. “But if they’re all in one spot, we could take them out in one shot.”
“No,” Arya said, his tone firm. “We don’t know what they’re guarding. We need to observe first, then strike.”
Arun frowned, his frustration evident. “Every second we wait, more people die.”
Arya placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice steady. “And if we rush in and trigger something worse, even more will die. Trust me.”
Arun hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But if this goes south, I’m blaming you.”
Arya allowed himself a small smile. “Noted.”
At the edge of the city, Meera stood on a crumbled rooftop, her gaze fixed on the distant plaza. The whispers in her mind were faint but insistent, guiding her attention toward the Agnivarnas’ movements. She closed her eyes, focusing on the threads of energy emanating from the constructs.
“They’re not just attacking randomly,” she murmured. “They’re creating… a pattern.”
The vision sharpened, and Meera gasped. She saw the plaza engulfed in fire, the Agnivarnas forming a circle around a massive glowing fragment of molten energy. The Chandrapradesh Fragment, its power radiating in pulsing waves, was amplifying the constructs’ strength.
Meera opened her eyes, her heart pounding. “It’s here,” she said, activating her communicator. “The fragment. It’s in the central plaza.”
Arya’s voice crackled through the line. “We see it. What else can you sense?”
“It’s unstable,” Meera replied. “If we don’t neutralize it, it could trigger a chain reaction that destroys the entire city.”
“Understood,” Arya said. “We’re moving in.”
The team converged at the edge of the plaza, their movements coordinated despite the chaos surrounding them. The Agnivarnas stood in formation around the fragment, their bodies glowing with an intensity that made the air shimmer.
Arya studied the scene, his mind racing. “We need to draw them away from the fragment. If we can separate them, we can take them down one by one.”
“I’ll handle that,” Arun said, stepping forward. Flames flickered in his palms, his confidence growing. “I can keep them busy while you guys deal with the fragment.”
“No,” Arya said sharply. “It’s too dangerous. We stick to the plan—”
“There’s no time!” Arun snapped, cutting him off. “If we don’t act now, the fragment could blow.”
Before Arya could stop him, Arun sprinted into the plaza, unleashing a burst of fire that caught the Agnivarnas’ attention. The constructs roared in unison, turning toward him as he darted between them, flames trailing in his wake.
“Arun, fall back!” Arya shouted, his voice filled with urgency.
“I’ve got this!” Arun called back, dodging a molten strike.
Devi placed a hand on Arya’s shoulder. “We’ll cover him,” she said. “Let’s take the fragment before it’s too late.”
Arya hesitated, torn between frustration and determination. “Fine. Rudra, you’re with me. Devi, keep Arun alive.”
Meera stepped forward, her eyes glowing faintly. “And I’ll handle the fragment.”
The team moved as one, their individual strengths converging toward a single goal. The flames roared, the ground trembled, and above it all, the glow of the Chandrapradesh Fragment pulsed with ominous power.
The plaza blazed with the light of combat, the air thick with the heat of molten energy and the acrid tang of scorched stone. Arun weaved between the Agnivarnas, his fire spiraling in controlled bursts to draw their attention. His movements were reckless yet precise, his adrenaline sharpening his focus.
“Come on!” he shouted, sending a jet of flame at the nearest construct. The Agnivarna roared in response, its molten body flaring brighter as it lunged for him. Arun leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the searing strike.
From the edge of the plaza, Devi’s shield shimmered into existence, deflecting an incoming blast aimed at Arun’s back. “Arun!” she called, her tone sharp. “Stop showing off and stick to the plan!”
“I’m improvising!” Arun shouted back, hurling another wave of flame at the constructs.
Devi clenched her jaw, her shields rippling as she moved to intercept another attack. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Meanwhile, Arya and Rudra pushed toward the center of the plaza, the pulsating glow of the Chandrapradesh Fragment growing stronger with every step. Rudra slammed his fists into an advancing Agnivarna, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground.
“Keep moving!” Arya shouted, his elongated limbs snapping out to pull a collapsed column out of their path. “We’re almost there!”
Rudra grunted, shoving another construct aside. “You think that fragment’s just going to let us destroy it? Feels like it’s fighting us already.”
Arya glanced at the fragment, its energy radiating in uneven pulses. “It’s not just a fragment,” he said, his voice grim. “It’s alive.”
At the far side of the plaza, Meera stood still, her gaze fixed on the fragment. The whispers in her mind had returned, louder and more insistent than ever. They pulled at her thoughts, urging her closer to the glowing shard.
“You feel it, don’t you?” the voice murmured, low and enticing. It wasn’t just the storm speaking now—it was Agnivesh.
“This is your power,” the voice continued, threading through her mind like molten silk. “The fragment called to you during the storm. It made you stronger, gave you purpose. And now, it offers you something greater.”
Meera’s breathing quickened as the fragment’s energy pulsed in time with the whispers. Images flooded her mind—visions of fire and ruin, but also of creation. Cities rising from ashes, entire civilizations reshaped with a single thought.
“You can have this,” Agnivesh’s voice said, smooth and seductive. “You can be the architect of a new world. All you have to do is embrace the storm.”
“No,” Meera whispered, shaking her head. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” the voice countered, its tone shifting to one of mock pity. “You’ve felt it all along. The others—they don’t understand. They never will. But you… you are the storm’s chosen. Together, we could wield the Shakti Astra as it was meant to be used.”
Meera staggered, clutching her head as the whispers grew deafening. The visions intensified, and for a moment, she saw herself standing beside Agnivesh, her hands glowing with the fragment’s energy as the world bowed before her.
“No!” she shouted, forcing the vision away.
“Meera!” Arya’s voice broke through the haze, snapping her back to the present. He and Rudra had reached the fragment, their combined efforts holding back the remaining Agnivarnas. “Whatever you’re seeing, fight it! We need you!”
Meera looked at him, her vision clearing. The whispers were still there, but she pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
She moved toward the fragment, her hands glowing faintly as she reached out to the threads of energy surrounding it. The fragment pulsed in response, its glow intensifying.
“What are you doing?” Rudra shouted, his rocky fists smashing into another construct.
“I can disrupt it,” Meera replied, her voice firm. “But I need time.”
Arya nodded, his limbs stretching to shield her as he fought off the remaining Agnivarnas. “You’ve got it. Do what you need to do.”
On the other side of the plaza, Arun continued to hold the constructs’ attention, his flames swirling around him in a controlled inferno. But his movements were slowing, his energy waning.
One of the Agnivarnas surged toward him, its molten claws swiping dangerously close. Arun staggered, the heat searing his arm despite his best efforts to shield himself.
“Arun!” Devi shouted, her shield flickering as she rushed to his side. She extended the barrier just in time, blocking the next attack.
“Thanks,” Arun panted, his flames dimming.
Devi glared at him. “Stop trying to be a hero. You’re no good to anyone if you burn out.”
Arun hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll dial it back.”
“Good,” Devi said, her shield flaring brighter. “Now let’s end this.”
At the center of the plaza, Meera’s hands moved in intricate patterns, weaving the fragment’s energy into a controlled lattice. The whispers screamed in protest, but she ignored them, focusing entirely on the threads of power.
The fragment began to destabilize, its glow shifting from a fiery red to a deep, pulsing blue. The Agnivarnas faltered, their movements growing erratic.
“It’s working!” Arya shouted, his limbs coiling around a weakened construct and smashing it into the ground.
Rudra delivered a final, crushing blow to the last Agnivarna, its molten form disintegrating into ash. “Meera, finish it!” he called.
Meera’s eyes glowed faintly as she channeled the fragment’s energy, her voice steady despite the strain. “Almost there…”
With a final motion, she severed the fragment’s connection to the constructs. The energy lattice collapsed, and the fragment’s glow dimmed, its power receding.
The plaza fell silent, the oppressive heat giving way to a cool, almost serene stillness.
The team regrouped near the fragment, their bodies battered but their spirits unbroken.
“We did it,” Arun said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“For now,” Arya replied, his gaze fixed on the dormant fragment. “But this was just a piece of Agnivesh’s plan. He won’t stop here.”
Meera stared at the fragment, her hands still trembling. The whispers were gone, but their memory lingered. “He’s not just trying to destroy us,” she said quietly. “He’s trying to divide us. To break us from within.”
Arya placed a hand on her shoulder. “Then we don’t let him. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
The team nodded, their unity strengthened despite the storm looming on the horizon.
The aftermath of the battle hung heavy over Ayodhya. Smoke still rose from the scorched plaza, and the faint glow of the dormant Chandrapradesh Fragment cast an eerie light on the ruined streets. Civilians emerged cautiously from their shelters, their expressions a mix of gratitude and fear as they watched the team regroup near the fragment.
Arya crouched beside the artifact, studying its faint energy signature. “It’s weakened,” he said, his voice edged with both relief and tension. “But it’s still dangerous. If Agnivesh gets his hands on it again—”
“We won’t let him,” Rudra interrupted, his rocky fists tightening at his sides. “Next time, we take the fight to him.”
Arya glanced up, his tone measured. “And how do you propose we do that? March into his lair and hope for the best? You saw what it took just to disable this fragment. His citadel will be a fortress.”
Rudra’s gaze darkened. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be playing defense. Every time we react, people die. Maybe it’s time we hit him where it hurts.”
“And maybe you should think before you act,” Arya shot back, his frustration bleeding through.
Rudra took a step forward, towering over Arya. “You’ve got all the answers, huh? How’s that been working out so far?”
“Enough!” Devi stepped between them, her shield flickering faintly. “This isn’t the time for this. We’ve barely made it through one fight, and you’re already at each other’s throats?”
Arun, who had been pacing nearby, threw up his hands. “Maybe Rudra’s got a point,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness. “We keep following Arya’s plans, and we’re always one step behind. Maybe it’s time we tried something different.”
Arya turned to him, his eyes narrowing. “You think rushing in without a plan is going to solve anything? That kind of recklessness is exactly why you nearly got yourself killed out there.”
“I was trying to help!” Arun snapped, flames flickering in his palms. “You’re so obsessed with controlling everything that you don’t trust us to make decisions!”
“Because when you act without thinking, people die!” Arya’s voice rose, his composure cracking.
“Stop it!” Meera’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and commanding. She stepped forward, her hands trembling as she glared at the group. “This is exactly what he wants.”
The team fell silent, her words echoing in the tense air.
Meera’s gaze swept over them, her voice softening but no less urgent. “Agnivesh doesn’t have to destroy us. If we keep tearing each other apart, we’ll do it for him.”
The weight of her words hung over the team, but the tension remained palpable. Rudra stepped back, his fists still clenched. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if we’re not taking the fight to him, what’s the plan?”
Arya exhaled, forcing himself to refocus. “We regroup. Analyze the fragment and figure out how to stop him from completing the Shakti Astra.”
“And then what?” Arun asked, crossing his arms. “Wait for him to launch another attack?”
Arya hesitated, the burden of leadership pressing heavily on him. “If we’re going to stop him, we need to know what we’re up against. And we can’t do that if we’re rushing into battle without a strategy.”
Devi nodded, her tone calm but firm. “We’ve made it this far because we’ve worked together. If we don’t trust each other now, we won’t stand a chance.”
The team began clearing the plaza, their movements mechanical as the weight of the argument lingered. Rudra and Arun worked in tense silence, their frustration evident in their stiff movements. Devi helped guide the last of the civilians to safety, her shields providing brief moments of calm in the chaos.
Meera stayed near the fragment, her gaze fixed on its faint glow. The whispers had receded, but the memory of Agnivesh’s voice still lingered, like a shadow in her mind.
Arya approached her, his expression softening. “You were right,” he said quietly.
Meera glanced at him, her shoulders tense. “About what?”
“About us,” Arya replied. “If we keep fighting each other, we won’t survive this.”
Meera nodded, her voice distant. “We’ve been through so much, and we’re still holding on to who we were before the storm. But if we don’t start embracing who we are now…” She trailed off, her words heavy with meaning.
Arya placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
As the sun set over Ayodhya, the team gathered near the fragment. The fires in the city had been extinguished, and the civilians were safe—for now. But the scars of the battle ran deep, both in the city and within the team.
For the first time, the storm that bound them together felt like it might tear them apart.
The moon hung low over Ayodhya, casting a pale glow over the city’s ruins. The streets were silent now, the chaos of the day replaced by an uneasy stillness. Within the temporary command post, the team sat in tense silence, the flickering light of a single lamp illuminating their weary faces.
Arya stood at the head of the table, a holographic map of Bharat Varsha’s northern regions projected before him. The Chandrapradesh Fragment, dormant yet still pulsing faintly, rested on a secure pedestal nearby, its glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.
“This fragment is a piece of the Shakti Astra,” Arya began, his tone measured. “If we can figure out how it works, we might be able to disrupt Agnivesh’s entire operation.”
Rudra leaned back in his chair, his massive arms crossed. “And how exactly are we supposed to do that? It’s not like we’ve got a guidebook for ancient cosmic weapons.”
Arya ignored the jab, focusing on the map. “The energy signatures from the fragment match the readings we picked up during the storm. If we can track similar signatures, we might find the other pieces of the Astra—and stop Agnivesh from completing it.”
Arun, slouched in his chair, let out a scoff. “Great. Another wild goose chase while he’s out there burning cities to the ground.”
“Arun,” Devi warned, her voice low.
“No, he’s right,” Rudra said, his tone sharp. “Every second we spend analyzing this thing is another second Agnivesh gets stronger. We should be hunting him, not sitting around playing scientist.”
Arya’s jaw tightened. “If we rush in without a plan, we’ll lose. Is that what you want?”
Before Rudra could respond, Meera’s voice cut through the tension. “The fragment isn’t just a piece of a weapon,” she said, her eyes fixed on the glowing shard. “It’s… alive. It’s connected to Agnivesh, to the storm, to everything. If we can understand its connection, we might be able to stop him before he strikes again.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.
Later that night, the team disbanded, each retreating to their own space within the compound. The strain of the day’s battle—and the growing rift between them—was palpable.
Arun lingered near the fragment, his eyes scanning its glowing surface. The faint pulsing light seemed to draw him in, the rhythm strangely hypnotic.
“You feel it, don’t you?”
The voice startled him, and he turned sharply to see a faint shimmer in the air before him. The shimmer coalesced into a fiery image of Agnivesh, his golden mask gleaming in the dim light.
“What the—” Arun stumbled back, flames flickering in his hands.
“Calm yourself,” Agnivesh said, his tone smooth and unthreatening. “I’m not here to fight you. Not yet.”
Arun’s fists clenched, the heat in his palms intensifying. “How are you even here?”
“Let’s just say the fragment and I share a bond,” Agnivesh replied, gesturing to the glowing shard. “Where it goes, I can follow.”
Arun glanced nervously at the door. The others were just outside, but something kept him from calling for them. “What do you want?”
“To talk,” Agnivesh said simply. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The frustration, the doubt. You’re stronger than they give you credit for, but they hold you back. Treat you like a liability.”
Arun’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.
“They don’t trust you,” Agnivesh continued, his voice soft but insidious. “They never will. But I see your potential. Your fire is more than a weapon—it’s a force of creation. A power that could reshape the world.”
“And what?” Arun shot back. “You think I should join you?”
Agnivesh tilted his head, his gaze piercing. “I think you should ask yourself what you truly want. To follow someone who doubts you at every turn? Or to embrace your power and carve your own path?”
Arun hesitated, the weight of Agnivesh’s words pressing against his thoughts. He glanced again at the fragment, its glow pulsing faintly in time with his heartbeat.
The shimmer of Agnivesh’s image flickered as he stepped closer. “You don’t have to decide now,” he said, his tone almost fatherly. “But when the time comes, remember this: the storm chose you for a reason. You were meant for more than following orders.”
Before Arun could respond, the image dissolved into embers, leaving him alone with the fragment’s faint glow.
The next morning, the team gathered in the command room, the tension from the previous night lingering in the air. Arya was reviewing a set of data from the fragment, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“We’ve identified another energy signature,” he said, pointing to a location on the map. “It’s faint, but it matches the fragment’s pattern. If we can reach it before Agnivesh—”
“Why do we have to wait?” Arun interrupted, his tone sharper than usual.
Arya looked up, surprised. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Arun said, stepping closer. “Why do we always have to wait for your plan? What if there’s another way? Something faster?”
Arya straightened, his expression calm but firm. “Because rushing in without understanding the situation puts everyone at risk. We can’t afford mistakes.”
“Or maybe you just don’t trust anyone else to make decisions,” Arun shot back, his frustration boiling over.
“Arun,” Devi said, her voice low, warning.
“No, let him talk,” Rudra said, crossing his arms. “He’s not wrong. Arya’s been calling all the shots since day one. Maybe it’s time we tried something different.”
Arya’s gaze swept over the group, his jaw tightening. “You think I want this responsibility? Everything I’ve done has been to keep us alive. If that makes me the bad guy, so be it.”
The argument escalated, the voices overlapping as the team’s unity began to fray.
In the corner, Meera watched in silence, her gaze flicking between the fragment and Arun. The faint glow in his eyes didn’t escape her notice, nor did the tension in his stance.
“Arun,” she said softly, but he didn’t hear her.
“Enough!” Arya’s voice rang out, silencing the room. He turned to Arun, his expression a mix of anger and exhaustion. “If you think you can do better, go ahead. Lead the next mission.”
Arun stared at him, stunned into silence. The room fell into an uneasy quiet, the weight of the exchange pressing heavily on everyone.
Meera’s eyes lingered on Arun, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. The storm’s whispers had grown silent, but she could still feel their shadow, a faint echo of doubt and division creeping into the team.
And somewhere, unseen, Agnivesh’s influence lingered, like a flame waiting to ignite.
The command room was quiet now, the earlier argument leaving an uneasy tension in its wake. The team dispersed across the compound, their frustrations and doubts weighing heavily on them.
Meera lingered near the glowing Chandrapradesh Fragment, her thoughts distant. She traced the faint patterns of energy rippling across its surface, her mind replaying the subtle shift she had sensed in Arun earlier.
“Something’s wrong,” she murmured.
Rudra stood outside, leaning against a crumbled stone pillar as he watched the city below. The faint glow of reconstruction efforts shimmered in the distance, but the devastation still loomed large.
He clenched his rocky fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface. Arya’s plans, Arun’s recklessness, the constant doubt—they all felt like weights dragging the team down.
“You’re supposed to be stronger than this,” Rudra muttered to himself. “We all are.”
Inside a small storeroom converted into makeshift quarters, Devi sat cross-legged on her cot, her breathing slow and measured as she meditated. Her shields flickered faintly around her, pulsing in rhythm with her steady breaths.
But even the calm she cultivated couldn’t mask the tension within her. Every argument, every moment of hesitation, chipped away at the bond she had tried so hard to hold together.
“They’re family,” she whispered to herself, her voice resolute. “And families fight. But we always come back.”
Arun stood alone in a darkened corridor, the faint hum of the fragment’s energy audible even here. His fists glowed faintly, flames licking at his fingertips, as if reflecting his simmering emotions.
Agnivesh’s words replayed in his mind.
“They don’t trust you. They never will.”
Arun’s jaw tightened, his flames flaring brighter. Maybe Agnivesh was right. Maybe the storm had given him more than the others understood.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind him.
“Arun.”
He turned sharply to see Meera standing there, her expression unreadable. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice defensive.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Meera replied, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting… different. Distant.”
“I’m fine,” Arun said quickly, his flames extinguishing as he crossed his arms. “Just needed some air.”
Meera’s gaze didn’t waver. “You can tell me if something’s wrong.”
Arun hesitated, his fists clenching and unclenching. “It’s nothing. Just tired of being treated like I don’t belong here.”
“That’s not true,” Meera said softly. “You’re part of this team. We couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Arun muttered, his voice laced with bitterness.
Meera frowned, the faint hum of the fragment pulling at the edges of her mind. She glanced toward it, then back at Arun. “The storm changed all of us,” she said. “It’s not just power—it’s pressure. Doubt. Fear. We’ve all felt it, Arun. You’re not alone.”
For a moment, Arun’s expression softened, but the flicker of vulnerability was quickly replaced by a guarded mask. “Yeah. Thanks, Meera,” he said, stepping past her. “I’ll catch you later.”
Meera watched him go, the sinking feeling in her chest growing heavier. She turned toward the fragment, its faint pulsing rhythm matching her unease.
The next morning, the team gathered in the command room, their exhaustion and tension evident in their movements. The map of Bharat Varsha’s northern regions flickered on the screen, highlighting the faint energy signature Arya had identified.
“This is our next target,” Arya began, his tone brisk and professional. “It’s in a remote valley near the Himalayan foothills. If it’s another fragment, we need to secure it before Agnivesh does.”
The others nodded, though the tension between them lingered just below the surface.
“We’ll need to move fast,” Arya continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. “The longer we wait, the more time Agnivesh has to strengthen his position.”
“And what if this is a trap?” Rudra asked, his tone sharp.
Arya met his gaze evenly. “Then we adapt. Together.”
The word hung in the air, a reminder of their fractured unity.
As they prepared to leave, Devi pulled Arya aside. “We need to address this,” she said quietly, her tone urgent.
“Address what?” Arya asked, though he already knew the answer.
“The cracks,” Devi replied. “The tension. If we keep ignoring it, it’s going to break us.”
Arya sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. But we don’t have time for a group therapy session right now.”
Devi frowned, her shields flickering faintly. “If we don’t fix this now, we won’t survive what’s coming.”
Arya nodded slowly, her words hitting home. “I’ll talk to them. After this mission.”
Devi didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go.
As the team boarded their transport, Meera lingered near the entrance, her gaze fixed on Arun. He avoided her eyes, his expression guarded.
The storm had brought them together, but Meera couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be the very thing tearing them apart.