Chapter 3: The Betrayer’s Knowledge
The Aaraksha Facility’s interior was a symphony of cold precision. Harsh white lights buzzed faintly overhead, reflecting off metallic walls that seemed to stretch endlessly. Each corridor was eerily quiet, save for the occasional drone hum or the faint clatter of a patrol’s boots.
Vishakha moved like a shadow, her black-and-gold suit blending seamlessly with the dim patches of the corridor. Her katars were in hand, their faint glint a testament to her readiness. Behind her, Dev trailed cautiously, his tablet glowing faintly as it mapped their path.
“Server room’s on the other side of that hatch,” Dev whispered, pointing toward a steel door embedded in the far wall.
Vishakha nodded, scanning the area. The facility’s defenses were formidable, but they hadn’t encountered any major resistance yet. That only made her more wary. Aryan wasn’t the kind of man to leave a critical asset like this unguarded.
As they approached the hatch, Dev worked quickly to disable the electronic lock. His fingers danced over the tablet, bypassing layers of encryption with a practiced ease.
“Got it,” he said after a few tense moments. The lock hissed, and the door slid open.
The server room was cavernous, its high ceilings filled with rows of towering racks that pulsed with light. Cool air rushed out, carrying the sterile scent of machinery and ozone.
Vishakha stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room for traps or ambushes. Dev followed, his attention locked on the glowing screens that lined the racks.
“This is it,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and apprehension. “The heart of the Sutradhar Project.”
Vishakha approached the central console, its interface alive with data streams and schematics. Her fingers hovered over the controls, her instincts screaming at her to act quickly.
“What’s the play?” Dev asked, his voice low.
“We plant a virus,” Vishakha replied. “Something to disrupt the network’s functionality without alerting Aryan immediately.”
Dev nodded, pulling a small USB drive from his pocket. “I’ve got just the thing. Give me a minute.”
As Dev worked on the console, Vishakha paced the room, her senses on high alert. The faint hum of the servers was hypnotic, but she forced herself to stay focused.
“Almost there,” Dev muttered, his hands flying over the keyboard. “Once this goes in, it’ll scramble their comms and disable remote access to the Cleansing Protocol. That’ll buy us some time.”
“Good,” Vishakha said. “But don’t take too long. This place is—”
The sound of the hatch sealing shut cut her off. Vishakha whirled around, her katars at the ready.
From the shadows beyond the racks, a familiar figure emerged. Amrita.
Her white-and-gold combat suit caught the flickering light of the servers, making her appear almost ethereal. Her talwar rested casually in her hand, its blade gleaming with menace.
“Sister,” Amrita said, her voice calm but edged with steel. “I knew you’d come.”
Vishakha’s grip on her katars tightened. “Amrita.”
Dev looked up from the console, his expression shifting to alarm. “Uh, Vishakha—”
“Keep working,” Vishakha said sharply, not taking her eyes off Amrita.
Amrita tilted her head, her dark eyes studying Vishakha with unsettling intensity. “You’ve become predictable, Vishakha. Aryan told me you’d try something like this. But I thought he overestimated your arrogance. I see now that he didn’t.”
“I’m not the one who’s blind,” Vishakha shot back. “Look around you, Amrita. This isn’t protection. It’s control.”
Amrita’s expression hardened. “And control is necessary. Chaos breeds weakness. The Order is the only thing standing between Bharat Varsha and the abyss. You of all people should understand that.”
“What I understand,” Vishakha said, her voice cold, “is that the Order lost its purpose a long time ago. You’re fighting for a lie.”
Amrita’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “You always were the idealist. But ideals won’t save you now.”
She lunged.
Vishakha met the attack head-on, her katars intercepting Amrita’s talwar with a sharp clang. Sparks flew as the blades collided, their movements a deadly dance of precision and power.
Amrita was relentless, her strikes fast and calculated. Vishakha parried each one, her agility keeping her just out of reach. The fight moved through the server room, their movements casting chaotic shadows across the racks.
“Vishakha, whatever you’re doing, finish it now!” Dev called out, panic lacing his voice as he worked feverishly at the console.
“Working on it!” she snapped, narrowly dodging a slash aimed at her ribs.
Amrita pressed her advantage, her talwar swinging in a wide arc that forced Vishakha to retreat. “You always hesitate,” Amrita said, her voice sharp. “That’s why you’ll lose.”
Vishakha didn’t reply. Instead, she shifted her stance, her movements becoming more fluid. Her katars struck faster now, finding gaps in Amrita’s defense.
For a moment, it seemed like the tide was turning. But Amrita was cunning. She feinted left, then spun, her talwar slashing toward Vishakha’s exposed side.
The blade grazed her arm, tearing through her sleeve and drawing a thin line of blood. Vishakha hissed in pain but didn’t falter.
“Got it!” Dev shouted, yanking the USB drive from the console. “We’re good to go!”
“Then move!” Vishakha barked, delivering a powerful kick that sent Amrita staggering backward.
Dev scrambled toward the exit, clutching the tablet and USB drive. Vishakha followed, her katars raised defensively as Amrita recovered and advanced.
“This isn’t over!” Amrita called after them, her voice echoing through the server room.
Vishakha didn’t look back. Her focus was on escape, on regrouping, on planning her next move. The battle with Amrita was far from finished—but for now, she had what she needed.
The Sutradhar Project was compromised. And Aryan’s fortress was one step closer to falling.
The night air outside the Aaraksha Facility was cooler, sharper, as though the desert itself knew that something had changed. Vishakha and Dev sprinted across the open terrain, the glowing lights of the fortress shrinking behind them. The faint hum of drones patrolling above spurred them on, their dark silhouettes circling like predatory birds.
“Left!” Dev hissed, pointing toward a narrow outcrop of rocks.
Vishakha veered sharply, pulling him along. The distant sound of alarms began to wail, muffled by the vast expanse of the desert but unmistakable in its urgency.
“They know we’re gone,” she said, her voice clipped but steady.
“No kidding,” Dev panted, clutching the tablet tightly. “And they’re not going to let us just stroll out of here, are they?”
Vishakha didn’t respond. Her mind was focused, calculating. Amrita’s words in the server room echoed in her thoughts. You always hesitate.
She shook the memory away, her eyes scanning the landscape for their escape vehicle. The motorcycle was still hidden beneath the tarp, half-buried in sand for camouflage. Vishakha ripped the covering off with a swift motion, revealing the sleek, dust-coated machine.
“Get on,” she ordered.
Dev didn’t argue. He swung onto the back of the bike, his tablet strapped to his chest. Vishakha started the engine, the low growl barely audible over the desert’s quiet.
As they sped off, a drone’s spotlight cut through the darkness, sweeping across the dunes. Vishakha swerved, kicking up a trail of sand to obscure their path.
“They’re tracking us!” Dev shouted over the roar of the wind.
“Not for long,” Vishakha replied, pulling a small device from her belt. She twisted the dial and hurled it behind them.
The EMP charge detonated midair, its burst of energy sending a ripple through the surrounding tech. The drone above faltered, its spotlight flickering before it spiraled downward in a sputtering crash.
Dev glanced back, his expression a mix of relief and awe. “That was—”
“Temporary,” Vishakha cut in, her tone grim. “They’ll send more.”
They rode in silence for several minutes, the fortress fading into the distance. The desert stretched endlessly before them, its barren beauty masking the danger that lurked in its shadows.
Vishakha finally pulled the bike to a stop near a cluster of jagged rocks. She dismounted, scanning the area for signs of pursuit.
“We’re clear for now,” she said, her voice low.
Dev slid off the bike, his legs unsteady. “For now,” he echoed, slumping against a rock. He tapped the tablet strapped to his chest, bringing up the data they had stolen.
“This… this is incredible,” he murmured, scrolling through the files. “The sleeper agents, the Cleansing Protocol—it’s all here. Aryan’s whole network, mapped out like a spiderweb.”
Vishakha crouched beside him, her sharp eyes narrowing at the screen. The data was dense, filled with coordinates, names, and operational schematics. It was a blueprint of the Shadow Order’s influence—and a weapon that could dismantle it.
“What’s their next move?” she asked.
Dev hesitated, his fingers pausing over the screen. “The Cleansing Protocol’s test phase is already operational. Aryan’s using it to target key individuals—activists, whistleblowers, anyone who threatens the Order’s control. Once the AI’s algorithms confirm a ‘threat level,’ the agents execute without hesitation.”
Vishakha’s jaw tightened. “How many people?”
Dev exhaled heavily. “Hundreds. Maybe thousands, if the system scales up.”
She stood, pacing the small space. The moonlight cast long shadows across her figure, her expression unreadable. “We need to shut it down before it goes live.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Dev replied, standing and gesturing to the screen. “The Aaraksha Facility was just one node. Aryan’s already distributed the system across other hubs—Bengaluru, Varanasi, and Mumbai. If we hit one, the others can compensate.”
“Then we hit them all,” Vishakha said firmly.
Dev blinked. “Do you hear yourself? That’s not just suicide—that’s madness. Each hub is as fortified as Aaraksha. Even with the data we’ve got, we’d need an army.”
“Or someone who knows how the Order thinks,” Vishakha said, her tone dark.
Dev frowned, realization dawning. “You mean Amrita.”
“She’s not going to help us willingly,” Vishakha said, her voice edged with bitterness. “But she’s predictable. If we push her hard enough, she’ll lead us to Aryan.”
“And what happens when you face her again?” Dev asked quietly.
Vishakha didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stared out at the desert, her mind churning. Amrita wasn’t just another obstacle. She was a mirror—one that reflected everything Vishakha had fought to escape.
“When I face her,” Vishakha said finally, her voice resolute, “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
Dev studied her for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But if we’re going after the other hubs, we’ll need to regroup. Recharge. And figure out how to stay one step ahead of Aryan’s goons.”
Vishakha turned back to him, her expression sharp. “Then let’s not waste time.”
The horizon was dark, but Vishakha’s path was clear. The fight against Aryan and the Shadow Order wasn’t over—it was only beginning.
The sprawling city of Bengaluru glimmered like a jewel against the darkened sky, its high-tech skyline a stark contrast to the ancient desert they had left behind. Vishakha and Dev navigated the bustling streets on foot, blending seamlessly into the crowd. Dev’s tablet was tucked securely in his backpack, but its weight felt heavier than ever.
The coordinates from the stolen data had led them to an unassuming building in the heart of the city. Its glass facade and modern architecture gave no hint of the shadowy operations concealed within. The Bengaluru node was buried deep underground, beneath layers of corporate offices that served as a front for the Shadow Order’s activities.
“It’s quiet,” Dev muttered as they approached the building’s side entrance.
Vishakha shot him a sharp look. “Don’t jinx it.”
She crouched near the door, her fingers working quickly to disable the electronic lock. The faint click of disengagement signaled success, and she motioned for Dev to follow.
Inside, the air was cool and sterile. The hallway stretched before them, its sleek design betraying no sign of the labyrinthine network below. They moved silently, Vishakha’s katars at the ready and Dev trailing close behind.
“This place is massive,” Dev whispered, glancing at the schematics on his tablet. “The node is at least three levels down, and the security here makes Aaraksha look like child’s play.”
Vishakha didn’t reply. Her focus was unshakable, her sharp eyes scanning every corner for traps or hidden cameras.
They descended a narrow staircase, each step echoing faintly in the quiet. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The air felt colder, heavier, as though the very walls held secrets too dangerous to breathe.
“Here,” Dev said softly, stopping outside a reinforced steel door. “This leads to the main control room. If we can access the system from here, we might be able to disrupt the hub without drawing too much attention.”
Vishakha raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you concerned about subtlety?”
“Since I’d like to get out of here in one piece,” he quipped, crouching beside the door to begin his work.
As Dev connected his tablet to the door’s interface, Vishakha stood guard, her senses on high alert. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of footsteps.
Her grip on her katars tightened as the footsteps grew louder. A shadow appeared at the far end of the corridor, followed by another, then another.
“Dev,” she said, her voice low but urgent.
“Almost there,” he muttered, his fingers flying over the screen.
The shadows resolved into figures—three operatives dressed in the Shadow Order’s black-and-gold combat gear. Their movements were calculated, their eyes scanning the corridor for intruders.
Vishakha moved quickly, pulling Dev behind the doorframe and motioning for silence. The operatives passed, their boots clicking against the polished floor.
“Close call,” Dev whispered, exhaling slowly.
Vishakha didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed on the operatives as they disappeared around a corner. Something about their formation felt… wrong.
A faint sound behind them made her freeze.
“Step away from the door,” a familiar voice commanded, cold and unwavering.
Vishakha turned slowly, her katars ready.
Amrita stood at the opposite end of the corridor, flanked by two elite Shadow Order operatives. Her talwar gleamed in the dim light, and her white-and-gold suit made her look more like a vengeful specter than a soldier.
“You’ve made quite the mess,” Amrita said, her tone almost conversational. “Aryan will be pleased to know you’re so predictable.”
Vishakha’s expression remained unreadable, but her heart raced. “If I’m so predictable, why aren’t you standing over my corpse yet?”
Amrita’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Because I enjoy the hunt, dear sister. And because Aryan wants you alive. For now.”
Dev shifted uncomfortably, his back pressed against the wall. “Uh, Vishakha, I hate to interrupt this family reunion, but—”
“Stay out of this,” Amrita snapped, her gaze cutting toward him.
“He’s with me,” Vishakha said sharply. “If you want him, you’ll have to go through me.”
Amrita tilted her head, her expression one of mock curiosity. “Still playing the protector, are we? It’s almost endearing.”
She took a step forward, her talwar raised. “But this ends now, Vishakha. Come back to the Order, or—”
“No,” Vishakha interrupted, her voice firm.
Amrita’s eyes narrowed. “Then you leave me no choice.”
She lunged.
Vishakha met her sister’s strike with practiced precision, her katars intercepting the talwar in a shower of sparks. The corridor erupted into chaos as the two sisters clashed, their movements a blur of deadly grace.
Dev ducked behind the console, frantically typing commands into his tablet. “No pressure, but I could really use a few minutes here!”
“Work faster!” Vishakha snapped, her katars deflecting a rapid flurry of strikes.
Amrita pressed her advantage, her attacks unrelenting. “You’ve always been so stubborn,” she hissed, her voice edged with anger. “You could have had everything, Vishakha. Power. Purpose. But you threw it all away for what? Morality?”
“I threw it away because it was a lie,” Vishakha retorted, driving Amrita back with a powerful counterattack.
The operatives flanking Amrita joined the fray, forcing Vishakha to split her focus. She moved with deadly precision, her katars finding their marks with ruthless efficiency.
Behind her, Dev let out a triumphant cry. “Got it! System’s down!”
The lights flickered as the node’s control systems went offline, throwing the corridor into partial darkness. Vishakha seized the opportunity, delivering a calculated strike that sent Amrita staggering.
“We’re done here,” Vishakha said, grabbing Dev’s arm and pulling him toward the staircase.
Amrita’s voice echoed behind them, cold and furious. “Run all you like, sister. You can’t escape the shadows.”
Vishakha didn’t look back. Her focus was on the mission—and the war that was only beginning.
The flickering corridor lights cast long, distorted shadows as Vishakha and Dev sprinted toward the staircase. The node’s control system had been disabled, and the facility was descending into chaos, but the sound of pursuit was relentless.
Amrita’s voice echoed behind them, cold and sharp. “You can’t run forever, Vishakha! You’ve forgotten what I’m capable of.”
Dev glanced back nervously. “She’s really got it out for you, huh?”
“Less talking. More running,” Vishakha snapped, her katars glinting as she checked the path ahead.
The staircase loomed just ahead, a narrow metal structure spiraling upward toward the surface. Vishakha grabbed the railing and began her ascent, urging Dev to follow.
But the footsteps behind them were gaining, the steady rhythm like a drumbeat of inevitability.
“You’re not leaving here alive,” Amrita called, her voice closer now.
Vishakha skidded to a halt halfway up the stairs, turning to face the approaching figures. “Go,” she told Dev, her tone brooking no argument.
Dev hesitated. “What? No way—”
“Go!” she barked, her katars already raised.
Reluctantly, Dev scrambled up the stairs, his footsteps fading as Vishakha stood her ground. The corridor below was shrouded in flickering light, but Amrita emerged from the shadows like a vengeful spirit, her talwar gleaming in her hand.
“Always the hero,” Amrita said, her voice dripping with disdain.
Vishakha didn’t reply. Instead, she moved into a defensive stance, her katars poised to strike.
Amrita advanced slowly, her expression unreadable. “You know, I used to admire that about you. Your need to protect, to save. But it’s a weakness, Vishakha. One that will get you killed.”
“Better to die fighting for something real than live as a pawn,” Vishakha retorted.
Amrita’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Real? And what do you think you’re fighting for? Redemption? Freedom? Those are illusions, sister. You of all people should know that.”
The tension between them was palpable, years of unspoken pain and betrayal hanging heavy in the air. But there was no time for words now.
Amrita lunged.
Vishakha met her strike head-on, the clash of steel ringing out in the confined space. The staircase vibrated under the force of their blows as they moved with deadly precision, each strike and parry more calculated than the last.
Amrita’s talwar swept in a wide arc, aiming for Vishakha’s shoulder. Vishakha ducked, her katars slicing upward in a counterattack. Amrita twisted away, her movements fluid and graceful, her blade coming around for another strike.
“You’ve gotten slower,” Amrita taunted, her eyes glinting with malice.
“And you’ve gotten louder,” Vishakha shot back, deflecting the blow with a quick pivot.
Their duel was a deadly dance, the narrow staircase forcing them into close quarters. Amrita’s strikes were powerful and precise, each one aiming to overwhelm Vishakha’s defenses. But Vishakha was faster, her movements a blur as she dodged and countered.
“You can’t win this,” Amrita hissed, pressing her attack. “You’re outmatched. Outnumbered. Aryan has already won.”
“Then why are you trying so hard to stop me?” Vishakha retorted, driving Amrita back with a series of rapid strikes.
Amrita’s expression darkened. “Because you’re a loose end. And loose ends get cut.”
She feinted left, then spun, her talwar slicing toward Vishakha’s side. Vishakha blocked the strike, but the force of the blow sent her stumbling back.
Amrita didn’t relent. She closed the distance with a flurry of attacks, her blade a blur of silver and light. Vishakha deflected each one, but the strain was beginning to show.
“You should’ve stayed,” Amrita said, her voice low and dangerous. “You could’ve been a leader. A symbol of strength. But now? You’re just a fugitive. A traitor.”
Vishakha’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Better a traitor than a puppet.”
Amrita snarled, her strikes growing more aggressive. The staircase rattled under their movements, the confined space amplifying the tension.
But Vishakha wasn’t finished. She sidestepped a particularly vicious swing, using the momentum to drive her elbow into Amrita’s ribs. The impact forced Amrita back, her talwar momentarily lowered.
“You’re still holding back,” Vishakha said, her voice edged with challenge.
Amrita’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll regret that.”
With a feral cry, she surged forward, her blade aiming for Vishakha’s heart. Vishakha twisted, the talwar grazing her shoulder as she brought her katars up in a counterstrike. The blades locked, the sisters face-to-face, their breaths labored and their eyes burning with unspoken emotion.
“You can’t change what you are,” Amrita said through gritted teeth.
“Neither can you,” Vishakha replied, her voice steady despite the strain.
They broke apart, each retreating a few steps to regain their footing. The air between them crackled with intensity, the battle far from over.
From above, Dev’s voice broke through the tension. “Uh, Vishakha? We’ve got company!”
Vishakha glanced upward, her eyes narrowing. More operatives were descending from the upper levels, their weapons glinting in the dim light.
“Looks like you’re out of time,” Amrita said, her tone almost mocking.
“Then I’ll make this quick,” Vishakha replied, her stance shifting.
Amrita lunged again, but this time Vishakha was ready. She sidestepped the attack, delivering a calculated strike that sent Amrita stumbling. The opening was brief, but it was enough.
Vishakha turned and sprinted up the staircase, her katars sheathed as she grabbed Dev by the arm.
“We’re leaving,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“But—” Dev began, glancing at the advancing operatives.
“Now,” Vishakha barked, pulling him along.
Behind them, Amrita’s voice rang out, cold and unyielding. “Run while you can, sister. The shadows will always find you.”
Vishakha didn’t look back. Her focus was on the mission—and the reckoning that awaited them both.
The safe house was a far cry from the sleek, impenetrable walls of the Aaraksha Facility. It was a nondescript apartment on the outskirts of Bengaluru, nestled in a neighborhood teeming with street vendors and the occasional stray dog. To the untrained eye, it was just another cramped urban dwelling—exactly what Vishakha needed.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight to block any outside surveillance. Vishakha sat at the edge of a rickety wooden table, methodically cleaning her katars with a cloth. Each stroke was precise, her focus intense despite the chaos that swirled in her mind.
Dev paced behind her, the glow of his tablet casting faint shadows on the walls. “We barely made it out of there,” he muttered, his tone jittery. “And by the way, your sister is terrifying.”
“She wasn’t always like this,” Vishakha said quietly, not looking up.
Dev paused, studying her. “What happened?”
Vishakha’s hands stilled, the cloth resting against the blade. Her gaze was distant, haunted. “The Order happened. They took us both in. Trained us. Molded us. But Amrita… she believed in it. In Aryan. She saw it as a calling. I saw it for what it was—a cage.”
“And now she wants to kill you,” Dev said bluntly.
Vishakha set the katars down with a soft clink, her expression hardening. “It’s not that simple.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Dev replied, resuming his pacing. He tapped a few commands into his tablet, the screen filling with data from the Bengaluru node. “Look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of your family drama, but we’ve got bigger problems. The sleeper agents—there’s a lot more of them than we thought.”
Vishakha stood, her attention snapping to the screen. “How many?”
Dev scrolled through the files, his brow furrowed. “Dozens, at least. And they’re spread across key cities—Delhi, Chennai, Mumbai. These aren’t random placements. Aryan’s using them to control infrastructure, politics, even media.”
She leaned closer, her eyes scanning the data. The names, coordinates, and operational details painted a grim picture. Each sleeper agent was a cog in Aryan’s grand machine, their actions orchestrated to destabilize Bharat Varsha from within.
“This isn’t just about control,” Vishakha said, her voice low. “It’s about domination. If Aryan succeeds, there won’t be anyone left to challenge the Order.”
“And that’s not even the worst of it,” Dev added, pulling up another file. The header read Cleansing Protocol: Phase Two.
Vishakha’s jaw tightened as she read the details. The Cleansing Protocol wasn’t just about eliminating threats—it was designed to target entire communities deemed “destabilizing.” Activists, dissenters, whistleblowers—anyone who opposed the Shadow Order’s vision of control.
“They’re automating genocide,” Vishakha said, her voice tinged with quiet fury.
Dev nodded grimly. “And it gets worse. According to these logs, Phase Two is already in motion. The first targets are in Chennai.”
Vishakha straightened, her resolve hardening. “Then we go to Chennai.”
Dev gaped at her. “Are you serious? Vishakha, we barely survived Bengaluru. Amrita’s going to be on us the second we step out of here. And let’s not forget Aryan probably knows exactly what we’re planning.”
“That’s why we move fast,” Vishakha said, grabbing her bag and checking her gear. “If we wait, more people die.”
“And what if it’s a trap?” Dev asked, his tone edged with desperation.
“It’s always a trap,” Vishakha replied. “That doesn’t change what we have to do.”
Dev let out a heavy sigh, slumping into a chair. “You know, for someone who’s constantly on the run, you’re really bad at self-preservation.”
Vishakha allowed herself a faint smirk. “Comes with the job.”
The faint sound of footsteps in the hallway made them both freeze. Vishakha’s katars were in her hands in an instant, her body tensed for a fight.
Dev held his breath, his eyes darting to the door.
A soft knock broke the silence.
“Vishakha,” a voice called from the other side. It was male, weary but familiar.
She relaxed slightly, motioning for Dev to stay quiet. She opened the door cautiously, revealing a gaunt, middle-aged man with graying hair and a weathered face. His eyes were sunken, but they held a spark of recognition.
“Rao,” Vishakha said, stepping aside to let him in.
Dev stared at the man in disbelief. “Wait—this is the scientist you mentioned? The one who knows about the Order’s plans?”
“Dr. Devendra Rao,” the man said, his voice hoarse. “And yes, I know more than I’d like to.”
Vishakha closed the door behind him, her expression grim. “We need answers. Now.”
Rao sank into a chair, his shoulders slumped. “Aryan’s plan isn’t just about controlling Bharat Varsha. It’s about reshaping it. The Cleansing Protocol is only the beginning. Once Phase Two is complete, Aryan intends to activate Phase Three.”
“What’s Phase Three?” Vishakha asked, her voice sharp.
Rao hesitated, his gaze darting to Dev before returning to Vishakha. “The complete annihilation of the old order. Political systems, cultural institutions, religious leaders—anything that doesn’t align with Aryan’s vision. He wants to rebuild Bharat Varsha in the Shadow Order’s image.”
Dev’s face paled. “He’s trying to play god.”
“And he has the means to do it,” Rao said, his voice trembling. “The sleeper agents are just the groundwork. The real threat is the Sutradhar Project. It’s not just an AI—it’s a learning system. It’s adapting, evolving. If it fully integrates, Aryan won’t need sleeper agents anymore. The system will control everything.”
Vishakha’s grip on her katars tightened. “How do we stop it?”
“There’s a central node,” Rao said. “In Chennai. If you can destroy it, the entire network collapses. But it won’t be easy. Aryan’s fortified the node with everything he has.”
Vishakha nodded, her resolve unwavering. “Then we’ll find a way in.”
Rao looked at her, his expression a mix of admiration and fear. “You’re walking into the lion’s den, Vishakha. If you fail…”
“I won’t fail,” she said firmly.
Dev sighed, rubbing his temples. “Guess that makes me the unlucky sidekick.”
“You’re more than that,” Vishakha said, a rare note of sincerity in her voice.
Dev looked at her, surprised, but didn’t argue.
“Chennai it is,” Vishakha said, her katars glinting in the dim light. “The Sutradhar Project ends now.”
The safe house was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of a ceiling fan that did little to cut through the stifling heat. Vishakha sat cross-legged on the floor, her weapons laid out before her in meticulous order: katars, throwing needles, smoke pellets, and a handful of small, precise tools. Her hands worked methodically, sharpening her blades, but her mind was elsewhere.
The room’s dim light cast long shadows on the walls, shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. In them, Vishakha could almost see the ghosts of her past: the cold stone halls of the Chhaya Institution, the faces of fellow recruits who hadn’t survived, and the piercing gaze of her twin sister, Amrita, alight with conviction and betrayal.
Dev sat at the table nearby, his focus on his tablet. The faint sound of his typing filled the silence. He glanced up occasionally, sensing the weight in the room but knowing better than to interrupt.
After a long stretch of silence, Dev finally spoke, his tone cautious. “You’ve been staring at those blades for an hour. They’re sharp enough to cut steel at this point.”
Vishakha didn’t look up. “They need to be sharper.”
Dev leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Is this about the mission, or…?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she picked up one of the katars, turning it over in her hands. The blade’s edge caught the light, gleaming like liquid silver.
“I trained for years to perfect my technique,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “Every movement, every strike—it’s all muscle memory now. But no amount of training prepares you for what comes after.”
“What comes after?” Dev asked, his curiosity tempered by caution.
Vishakha’s eyes lifted to meet his. “Regret. Doubt. The faces of the people you couldn’t save.”
Dev frowned, setting the tablet aside. “You’ve saved plenty of people, Vishakha. You’re risking your life to stop Aryan and the Order. That’s more than most people would do.”
“Is it enough?” she asked, her voice edged with bitterness. “For every life I save, there’s another I’ve failed. Rao is dead because of me. Amrita… she’s more a weapon than a person now, and that’s my fault too.”
Dev opened his mouth to argue, but Vishakha cut him off.
“I saw it happening,” she continued, her voice gaining momentum. “Amrita was always the loyal one, the obedient one. She thrived under Aryan’s system. I should’ve pulled her out when I had the chance. But I didn’t. I left her there, and now she’s—”
“A monster?” Dev finished, his tone soft.
Vishakha’s jaw tightened. “She’s still my sister.”
The admission hung heavy in the air.
Dev hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Look, I’m no expert on family dynamics, but it sounds like Amrita made her choice. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I can’t afford not to,” Vishakha said. “If I don’t, who will?”
The room fell silent again, the weight of her words settling between them.
After a moment, Dev leaned forward, his expression serious. “You know, guilt’s a hell of a thing. It makes you think you’re responsible for everything, even the stuff you had no control over. But if you let it run your life, it’ll eat you alive.”
Vishakha gave him a sharp look. “And what would you know about guilt?”
Dev’s smile was faint but devoid of humor. “More than you’d think.”
Vishakha studied him for a moment, sensing a story he wasn’t ready to share. She didn’t press. Instead, she returned to her weapons, her hands moving with practiced ease.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” Dev said, his tone softer now. “I’m not exactly combat-ready, but I’m here. For whatever that’s worth.”
Vishakha paused, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her katar. She didn’t respond, but a flicker of gratitude passed through her eyes.
The moment was interrupted by the faint vibration of Dev’s tablet. He grabbed it quickly, scanning the screen.
“What is it?” Vishakha asked, her voice sharp.
“Surveillance feed,” Dev replied, his tone urgent. “Looks like we’ve got movement near the building. Three, no, four operatives closing in. They’re wearing Shadow Order gear.”
Vishakha was on her feet in an instant, her katars already sheathed. “Pack up. We’re leaving.”
Dev scrambled to gather his equipment, his hands shaking slightly. “How did they find us? We were careful.”
“They always find a way,” Vishakha said grimly. “Move.”
They exited through the back door, the narrow alley offering a momentary reprieve from the impending confrontation. Vishakha scanned the area, her sharp eyes catching the faint glint of movement at the alley’s far end.
“They’re flanking us,” she said, her mind racing. “Stay close.”
Dev nodded, his fear evident but his trust in her unwavering.
The sound of boots on pavement grew louder, echoing off the alley walls. Vishakha’s hand hovered over the hilt of her katars, her body coiled like a spring.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice low.
“Not even a little,” Dev muttered.
“Good,” Vishakha said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
The first operative appeared at the alley’s mouth, his weapon raised. Vishakha moved before he could react, her katar slicing through the air with deadly precision. The man crumpled silently, his weapon clattering to the ground.
“Go!” she hissed, pushing Dev toward the opposite end of the alley.
They moved quickly, darting through the narrow streets as the sound of pursuit grew louder. Vishakha’s mind was already calculating their next move, her regrets buried beneath the weight of survival.
There was no time to dwell on the past. Not when the future demanded everything she had.
The night was heavy with tension as Vishakha and Dev slipped into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Bengaluru. The structure was dilapidated, its corrugated metal walls rusting and its roof sagging in places. It wasn’t ideal, but it offered cover—and for now, that was enough.
Dev collapsed against a dusty workbench, his breathing labored. “Please tell me this is the last time we’ll have to sprint for our lives tonight,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Vishakha ignored him, her focus on the faint sounds outside. The operatives weren’t far behind, their movements measured but relentless. She pulled a throwing needle from her belt and held it at the ready, her body coiled like a predator waiting to strike.
“Stay quiet,” she whispered, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
Dev gave a mock salute, his attempt at humor undercut by the fear in his eyes.
The sound of footsteps drew closer, boots crunching against gravel just beyond the warehouse walls. Vishakha gestured for Dev to stay down as she crept toward a gap in the wall, her movements silent and deliberate.
Through the sliver of moonlight, she spotted three operatives moving in formation, their black-and-gold combat gear blending with the night. One of them raised a hand, signaling the others to fan out.
Vishakha’s fingers tightened around the needle. Her breathing slowed as she calculated the distance, the angles. In a single fluid motion, she threw the needle. It struck the lead operative in the neck, and he dropped soundlessly to the ground.
The other two spun toward the source of the attack, their weapons raised. Vishakha moved swiftly, closing the distance before they could react. Her katars flashed in the moonlight, and the fight was over in seconds.
She stepped back, her breathing steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dev peeked out from behind the workbench, his expression a mix of relief and awe.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he said, scrambling to his feet.
“We need to move,” Vishakha said curtly, wiping the blood from her blades.
Dev grabbed his tablet, his hands still shaking. “You sure those were the only ones?”
“No,” she admitted, already heading for the warehouse’s rear exit. “That’s why we’re not staying to find out.”
They slipped into the darkness, navigating the maze of alleys and backstreets with practiced ease. Vishakha’s mind was already racing ahead, planning their next move. The data they’d stolen was invaluable, but it wouldn’t mean anything if they couldn’t act on it.
By the time they reached the edge of the city, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon. They found temporary refuge in a run-down motel, its peeling paint and flickering neon sign a testament to its anonymity.
Inside, Vishakha secured the door while Dev set up his tablet on the rickety desk. The room smelled faintly of mildew, but it was quiet, and that was all that mattered.
“So,” Dev began, his voice tired but determined. “Chennai.”
Vishakha nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Chennai.”
Dev sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know, you could at least pretend to be daunted by this whole ‘taking on an entire shadow organization’ thing. It might make me feel less like an idiot for being terrified.”
She allowed herself a faint smirk. “Fear keeps you alive. Just don’t let it control you.”
“Noted,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the tablet. “Okay, here’s what we know: the central node for the Sutradhar Project is housed in a high-security facility in Chennai. From what I’ve decoded so far, it’s tied to a massive data center that feeds directly into Aryan’s AI network.”
“How well-defended is it?” Vishakha asked.
Dev gave her a grim look. “Like Fort Knox had a baby with a Bond villain’s lair. We’re talking multiple layers of security—biometric scanners, heat sensors, armed guards, the works. And that’s before we even get to the AI-driven surveillance system.”
Vishakha leaned back, her expression unreadable. “Good. It’ll make things interesting.”
Dev blinked. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“Maybe,” she replied, her tone casual.
He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he pulled up another file. “Anyway, I found something else. The facility’s layout includes a service tunnel that leads to an older part of the building. It’s not on the official blueprints, but if we can access it, we might be able to bypass the main security checkpoints.”
“Might?” she echoed.
Dev shrugged. “It’s our best shot. Unless you feel like walking in the front door.”
Vishakha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stood and began checking her gear, her movements precise and deliberate.
“Are you ever going to explain why this is so personal for you?” Dev asked suddenly, his voice softer now.
She paused, her hand hovering over the hilt of her katar. “It’s not just about Aryan. Or the Order. It’s about what they took from me. From all of us.”
Dev frowned. “Amrita?”
Vishakha’s gaze flicked to him, her eyes hard but tinged with something deeper—something almost vulnerable. “She’s a part of it. But it’s more than that. The Order creates monsters, Dev. And they hide behind the lie that it’s for a greater purpose. Someone has to stop them.”
He nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind her words. “Well, you’ve got me. For whatever that’s worth.”
“It’s worth enough,” she said, her tone softer than before.
The room fell silent again as the gravity of their mission settled over them.
“Get some rest,” Vishakha said finally, her voice steady. “We leave for Chennai tonight.”
Dev gave a mock salute, but his expression was serious. “Yes, ma’am.”
As he settled onto the creaky motel bed, Vishakha moved to the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The city was waking up, its streets bustling with life. But somewhere in the shadows, Aryan and Amrita were waiting.
And Vishakha would be ready.
