Chapter 1
The rusting gate of Manipur University creaked open, and Ajit Singh stepped through, his sneakers crunching against the gravel path. The campus buzzed with energy, students hauling overloaded backpacks or chatting in the shade of the towering gulmohar trees. The air was warm with the late September sun, but the breeze carried the scent of rain-soaked earth from a morning drizzle.
Ajit inhaled deeply, trying to shake the unease that had followed him since summer. On the surface, he looked like any other returning second-year student—a bit taller, a bit leaner, a bit more confident—but beneath the surface, he was anything but ordinary.
“Ajit!”
The shout came from across the courtyard. Rajesh, tall and wiry, was weaving through clusters of students with his usual chaotic energy. His oversized satchel swung wildly, threatening to trip him at every step.
“There you are!” Rajesh called, skidding to a stop beside Ajit. “Man, I thought you were gonna ghost me all semester. What happened to staying in touch?”
Ajit forced a grin. “I was busy.”
“Busy? That’s all I get?” Rajesh smirked, nudging him in the ribs. “Come on, admit it. You’ve been out there saving kittens and punching bad guys. Look at you—standing straighter, muscles popping. You’ve got that superhero glow!”
“Keep it down,” Ajit hissed, glancing around. “You want the whole campus to hear?”
Rajesh laughed, unfazed. “Relax. They’re too busy trying to figure out which cafeteria line is moving faster. Besides, I’m just saying—you’ve been different. Mysterious. Dare I say… suspicious.”
Ajit shook his head and started walking toward the science block. “I’m just tired, Rajesh. That’s all.”
“Tired, huh?” Rajesh jogged to keep up. “Well, you’ve got some explaining to do. And no more excuses like ‘I was stuck studying.’ Even Padmini didn’t buy that one.”
The mention of her name made Ajit wince. He hadn’t seen Padmini in weeks. Not since that night he’d bailed on their study session to stop a street gang from robbing a jewelry store.
“Speaking of…” Rajesh muttered, glancing over Ajit’s shoulder.
Ajit turned just in time to see Padmini marching toward them, her braid swaying like a pendulum. Her eyes were sharp and locked on him.
“Ajit Singh!” she snapped.
Rajesh leaned in and whispered, “Good luck, buddy. You’re gonna need it.” He ducked away, vanishing into the crowd before Ajit could grab him.
“Padmini,” Ajit started, but she cut him off.
“Don’t ‘Padmini’ me,” she said, arms crossed. “You’ve been ignoring my texts all summer. No calls, no emails. You didn’t even show up for the debate prep. What’s going on?”
“I’ve been… busy,” Ajit said, immediately regretting how weak it sounded.
“Busy?” she echoed, her voice rising. “You’ve got to do better than that. I’ve been trying to figure out if you’re avoiding me or if you’ve just disappeared into thin air.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Ajit said quickly. “I swear. Things just got… complicated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Complicated how?”
Ajit hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn’t unravel everything he’d been working to keep hidden. His double life, the battles, the training—it wasn’t something he could explain over a casual conversation on campus.
“Look, I’ll make it up to you,” he said finally. “Lunch tomorrow. My treat.”
Padmini studied him for a long moment before her expression softened. “Fine. But you owe me an explanation.”
She turned and strode off toward the physics lab, leaving Ajit standing there with a mixture of relief and guilt swirling in his chest.
“Smooth,” Rajesh said, appearing out of nowhere.
“Not helping,” Ajit muttered, shaking his head.
They continued toward the science block, the weight of Ajit’s responsibilities pressing heavier with each step. As they entered the main lecture hall, the usual chatter and shuffling of students settled into silence.
At the podium stood a man Ajit had never seen before. He was tall, with an angular face and streaks of silver in his hair. His crisp white shirt and black blazer seemed meticulously chosen, exuding authority.
“Welcome, everyone,” the man said, his voice deep and commanding. “I am Dr. Prakash, your new professor of mechatronics. Today, we will begin with a question: What defines a limit?”
The room was silent, the students too intimidated to answer. Dr. Prakash scanned the audience, his gaze sharp and calculating.
“Limits,” he continued, “are the chains that bind human progress. Physical. Mental. Moral. They are obstacles we must obliterate if we wish to transcend mediocrity.”
Ajit shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was something unsettling about the way Dr. Prakash spoke, as though he wasn’t just delivering a lecture, but issuing a challenge.
Rajesh scribbled furiously in his notebook, while Ajit’s attention drifted. His snake sense tingled faintly, like a distant hum of warning. It wasn’t enough to alarm him, but it left a nagging itch at the back of his mind.
As the lecture continued, Ajit couldn’t shake the feeling that Dr. Prakash was more than he appeared to be.
The lecture hall buzzed with hushed whispers as Dr. Prakash leaned against the podium, his piercing gaze sweeping across the rows of students. His words were calculated, each one striking with precision.
“Progress,” he said, his voice commanding attention, “is built upon the graves of limits. Humanity has clung to its weaknesses for far too long. If you want to achieve greatness, you must not only break those limits—you must destroy them completely.”
Rajesh nudged Ajit with his elbow, whispering, “Guy’s got a flair for the dramatic, huh? Sounds like he’s pitching a Marvel movie.”
Ajit didn’t respond. His focus was locked on Dr. Prakash, an inexplicable unease curling in his gut. The professor’s words carried an undercurrent of something—an edge that felt more like a threat than inspiration.
“Take this semester as a challenge,” Dr. Prakash continued, gesturing sharply with his hand. “In my class, you will not be rewarded for meeting expectations. You will be rewarded for surpassing them. Relentlessly.”
The professor’s gaze landed on Padmini, who sat a few rows ahead of Ajit. Her notebook was open, every word the professor spoke being neatly transcribed. Prakash’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“Ms. Padmini, isn’t it?”
She looked up, startled. “Yes, sir.”
“Your record speaks for itself—academic excellence, unwavering focus. Let me ask you: What drives you to succeed?”
Padmini hesitated, glancing around as if searching for the right answer. “I… I believe in pushing myself to achieve the best results, sir.”
Prakash chuckled softly, his smile fading. “A safe answer. But safety doesn’t shatter paradigms, does it?”
The room tensed. Padmini’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at her notebook. Ajit’s jaw tightened.
“Anyone else?” Prakash’s voice cut through the tension. “What drives you? What makes you excel beyond the ordinary?”
Rajesh whispered, “Don’t look at him. Don’t make eye contact—”
“You there,” Prakash said sharply, his finger pointing directly at Ajit. “Mr. Singh, isn’t it?”
Ajit froze. The faint hum of his snake sense grew stronger, rippling beneath his skin like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
“Yes, sir,” he said carefully.
“And you?” Prakash asked, tilting his head. “What motivates you?”
For a moment, Ajit didn’t know how to respond. Flashes of the past summer ran through his mind—the fights, the dangers, the near misses. His motivation wasn’t ambition or achievement—it was survival, protecting others, and keeping his secret life intact.
“Same as everyone else,” he said finally. “To learn. To grow.”
Prakash’s expression didn’t change, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Ajit’s stomach twist. “How… uninspired,” Prakash said. “We’ll see if that changes by the end of this term.”
The lecture moved on, but the tension lingered. Ajit’s mind raced, trying to piece together why this man made him so uneasy. The way Prakash carried himself, the weight of his words—it all felt calculated, like a predator sizing up its prey.
When the class finally ended, Padmini hurried out of the hall, her notebook clutched tightly to her chest. Ajit and Rajesh followed, weaving through the throng of students spilling into the corridors.
“Your new favorite professor, huh?” Rajesh said, smirking.
Ajit frowned. “There’s something off about him.”
“Oh, come on,” Rajesh said. “He’s just one of those old-school types who loves to intimidate people. You’re reading too much into it.”
But Ajit wasn’t convinced. The faint hum of his snake sense hadn’t stopped, even now as they walked outside.
“Rajesh,” Ajit said, lowering his voice. “Do me a favor. Look into him. See what you can find.”
Rajesh raised an eyebrow. “You serious? What am I supposed to find? Skeletons in his closet? Some evil plot to take over the world?”
“Just do it,” Ajit insisted. “Something’s not right.”
Rajesh sighed but nodded. “Fine. But if he’s just a regular overachieving professor, you owe me lunch.”
The sky had grown overcast, the clouds dark and heavy with impending rain. Ajit and Rajesh parted ways at the library, and Ajit began his walk home. The campus seemed quieter now, the usual buzz of students replaced by an eerie stillness.
As he passed the central plaza, the streetlights flickered. Ajit stopped, glancing around. The faint hum of his snake sense flared sharply, making the hairs on his neck stand on end.
The streetlights flickered again, and this time, the entire plaza was plunged into darkness.
Ajit froze. The air around him felt charged, like the moments before a lightning strike. He scanned his surroundings, his enhanced senses picking up every faint rustle of leaves, every distant footstep.
Then he felt it—a presence. Something watching him.
“Who’s there?” he called out, his voice steady but low.
There was no response, just the soft hiss of wind through the trees. Ajit’s eyes flicked to the shadows, his snake sense pulsing in warning.
He stepped back, his body tensing, ready for whatever might come. But after a long moment of silence, the lights flickered back on.
Ajit exhaled, his muscles relaxing slightly. Whatever had triggered his instincts was gone. For now.
As he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—had been watching him.
Rain began to fall as Ajit hurried down the empty streets leading to his rented room. It started as a drizzle, but within minutes, a steady downpour soaked his hair and shoulders. He tightened his grip on his bag and broke into a jog, dodging puddles that glimmered under the flickering streetlights.
The sound of his own footsteps on the wet pavement blended with the rhythmic patter of the rain, but Ajit couldn’t shake the prickling sensation at the back of his neck. His snake sense still hummed faintly, like a low drumbeat warning of something he couldn’t see.
Reaching his street, Ajit slowed down, scanning his surroundings. The narrow lane was lined with old houses, their windows glowing faintly with warm light. His landlord’s aging scooter was parked haphazardly near the gate, tilted at an odd angle.
He stepped through the gate and was about to unlock the door when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Ajit froze, his heart pounding. Slowly, he turned toward the source—a shadow near the lamppost across the street.
The figure was gone before he could focus, disappearing into the rain like smoke.
“Just my imagination,” Ajit muttered to himself, shaking his head. But his grip on the doorknob tightened as he stepped inside.
The room was quiet except for the sound of the rain drumming against the windows. Ajit set his bag down and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the lingering unease.
Kicking off his shoes, he sank into the creaky desk chair and pulled out his laptop. He opened an email from Rajesh, who had sent over notes from Dr. Prakash’s lecture.
“Limits,” Ajit muttered to himself, scrolling through the neatly typed points. His eyes narrowed as he read one line in particular:
‘Physical and moral limitations are nothing but constructs of the weak.’
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. Something about Prakash’s philosophy felt more than just academic. The professor’s words had been too precise, too charged, like they were meant to spark something dangerous.
Ajit’s phone buzzed on the desk, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was Rajesh.
“Find anything?” Ajit asked, picking up.
“Not much yet,” Rajesh said, his voice crackling slightly through the line. “But the guy’s clean—too clean. No social media, no old records. It’s like he sprang out of nowhere with a PhD in mechatronics and a glowing resume.”
“Nothing at all?” Ajit frowned, spinning his chair absently.
“Well, there’s one thing,” Rajesh said. “His research. A lot of it’s classified. Most professors share papers or at least abstracts, but Prakash’s work is locked tight. Whatever he’s working on, it’s big—and someone’s funding it heavily.”
Ajit’s grip on the phone tightened. “Can you dig deeper?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” Rajesh said. “But you’re gonna owe me more than lunch for this.”
Before Ajit could respond, the lights in his room flickered. The faint hum of his snake sense suddenly surged, and he shot to his feet.
“What was that?” Rajesh asked.
“I’ll call you back,” Ajit said, cutting the line and tossing the phone onto the desk.
The room was plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow of his laptop screen. Ajit moved silently to the window, peering out through the rain-streaked glass. The street outside was empty, bathed in the pale glow of the streetlights.
But there it was again—a flicker of movement, just beyond the edge of the light.
Ajit’s breath slowed as he focused, his heightened senses sharpening. His muscles tensed, ready for action.
The sound of something tapping against the windowpane made him spin around. Nothing.
He moved cautiously toward the window, the tapping sound growing louder. His fingers brushed the curtain, and with one swift motion, he yanked it aside—
A bird. A black crow perched on the narrow sill, its beady eyes reflecting the dim light.
Ajit let out a sharp exhale, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He tapped the glass lightly, and the bird fluttered off into the rain, its wings slicing through the darkness.
But as he turned back toward the room, his snake sense flared again, stronger this time.
A voice came from the doorway. Low, calm, and unnervingly deliberate.
“Careless, Mr. Singh.”
Ajit spun around, his heart pounding. Standing in the doorway was a figure cloaked in black, their face obscured by a hood. The faint glow of their eyeshine revealed a cruel smile beneath the shadow.
“Who are you?” Ajit demanded, his voice steady despite the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
The figure stepped forward, their movements smooth and deliberate. “A friend. Or perhaps… a test.”
Ajit’s fists clenched. “You’re going to regret picking this fight.”
The figure laughed, a cold, hollow sound. “We’ll see.”
Before Ajit could react, the figure lunged, faster than anything he’d encountered before.
Ajit’s reflexes kicked in, his snake sense screaming at full volume. He ducked just in time as the intruder’s strike narrowly missed his head, the force of the blow denting the metal doorframe behind him.
“Fast,” the figure said, their voice laced with amusement. “But how fast?”
Ajit didn’t reply. He twisted on his heel, springing to the side and putting the desk between them. The intruder moved with an eerie fluidity, closing the gap with unsettling ease.
His mind raced. Whoever this was, they were no ordinary opponent. Their speed rivaled his, and there was a precision in their movements that spoke of meticulous training—or something more unnatural.
The figure lashed out again, their movements a blur. Ajit leaped backward, his enhanced agility carrying him over the bed. He landed in a crouch and retaliated with a burst of venom from his palm, aiming for the attacker’s eyes.
The figure twisted mid-strike, the venom splattering harmlessly against the wall. “Clever,” they said, straightening. “But not clever enough.”
Before Ajit could react, the figure raised a hand. Something shot out—thin, sharp, and metallic. A wire? No, a blade. It zipped toward him like a serpent striking its prey.
Ajit dived to the floor, the blade slicing through the air above him. It struck the desk with a loud thunk, embedding itself deep in the wood.
Who was this?
“Who sent you?” Ajit demanded, springing to his feet.
The intruder tilted their head, their hood shifting just enough for Ajit to catch a glimpse of a scarred jawline. “You’re asking the wrong question, Mr. Singh.”
They lunged again, but this time Ajit was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his movements precise, and grabbed the figure’s arm. With a surge of strength, he twisted, using their momentum to slam them into the wall.
The figure grunted but recovered quickly, sweeping Ajit’s legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, the air rushing from his lungs.
“You’ve been watched for some time,” the figure said, looming over him. “Someone’s curious about you.”
Ajit’s mind whirled. Watched? By who? He didn’t have time to think. He lashed out with his legs, catching the figure in the chest and sending them staggering back.
He sprang to his feet, venom pooling at his fingertips. “You’ve got one chance to walk away.”
The figure laughed. “Bold. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
They reached for something at their side—a small, cylindrical device that began to emit a high-pitched whine. Ajit’s snake sense flared violently, warning of imminent danger.
Not waiting to see what it did, Ajit surged forward. He closed the gap in an instant, knocking the device from the figure’s hand. It clattered to the floor, rolling beneath the bed.
The figure cursed under their breath and swung at Ajit, their movements growing wilder, more desperate. Ajit blocked the strike and countered with a venom-coated punch, his fist connecting with their side.
The figure hissed in pain and stumbled, clutching their ribs. “Impressive,” they said through gritted teeth. “But this isn’t over.”
Before Ajit could press the advantage, the intruder reached into their cloak and threw something to the ground. Smoke erupted around them, filling the room in seconds.
Ajit coughed, his enhanced vision cutting through the haze just in time to see the figure dart toward the window. With a crash, they were gone, swallowed by the rain and darkness outside.
Ajit ran to the window, peering into the storm, but the intruder had vanished. He clenched his fists, his breathing heavy, the adrenaline still surging through his veins.
Whoever they were, they’d underestimated him. But their words lingered, heavy and ominous. Someone had been watching him.
And whoever it was, they weren’t finished.
Ajit stared out into the rain-soaked night, his heart still pounding from the encounter. The faint echo of the intruder’s words—“You’ve been watched”—replayed in his mind. He gripped the window frame tightly, his knuckles whitening. The figure had been skilled, but their retreat hinted at a bigger plan. Whoever had sent them wasn’t after a quick fight.
He turned back to his room, scanning the mess left in their wake. The desk was splintered where the blade had struck, the floor littered with debris from the brief but intense battle. A faint acrid smell lingered from the smoke grenade.
The cylindrical device the figure had dropped still lay beneath the bed. Ajit crouched down and retrieved it carefully, his snake sense buzzing faintly as he held it. The object was smooth, metallic, and about the size of a small flashlight. It bore no markings, but its weight and design suggested advanced engineering.
“Rajesh will want to see this,” Ajit muttered.
He tucked the device into his bag and grabbed his phone from the desk. The screen lit up with several missed messages from Rajesh, no doubt wondering why he’d hung up so abruptly. Ajit quickly called him back.
“Finally,” Rajesh answered. “What happened? You sounded tense earlier.”
“Someone broke into my room,” Ajit said, keeping his voice low.
“What?!” Rajesh practically shouted. “Are you okay? Who was it? Did they take anything?”
“I’m fine,” Ajit said. “But it wasn’t a random break-in. They were fast, trained. They knew exactly what they were doing—and they were looking for me.”
Rajesh’s voice dropped. “Looking for you? You think it’s connected to… you know…”
“Yeah,” Ajit said, pacing the room. “And they left this behind.” He pulled out the cylindrical device and turned it over in his hands. “It’s some kind of tech. Advanced. I need you to analyze it.”
“Bring it to me first thing tomorrow,” Rajesh said. “And stay on your guard. If they were after you tonight, they might try again.”
“They won’t catch me off-guard twice,” Ajit said, his voice firm.
After ending the call, Ajit sat on the edge of his bed, the adrenaline slowly ebbing from his system. He rubbed his temples, trying to process everything.
First, the unsettling arrival of Dr. Prakash with his cryptic philosophies. Then the strange flickers in his snake sense that had followed him since the lecture. Now, a direct attack from a highly skilled operative. It wasn’t a coincidence.
Ajit leaned back against the wall, staring at the cracked ceiling. His life had changed irrevocably after becoming Naga Man, but tonight was different. Tonight felt like a test.
A low rumble of thunder rolled through the night as the rain continued to lash against the windows. Ajit closed his eyes briefly, letting the sound steady his thoughts. The battles weren’t over—they never really were. But whoever was watching him, whatever was coming, he’d be ready.
Or at least, he’d have to be.