Romance The Crown and The Scar
- Thread starter Aryashadow
- Start date
- 5,079
Chapter 4 – Shadows of Trust
Subah ke 7:15 hue the. Munich ke sky pe halki si dhoop thi, par safehouse ke andar sab kuch abhi bhi mission mode mein tha.
Monitors blink kar rahe the, Riya ke fingertips keyboard pe dance kar rahe the, aur screen pe bar-bar ek naam flash ho raha tha —
Vihaan Arya.
A man who was supposed to be dead… par ab har jagah uska shadow tha.
Aishani ne apne coffee mug ko table pe rakha, aur file kholi.
Silver lighter bag ke andar evidence ke roop mein pada tha, lekin uska thought uske dimaag ke ek kone mein jalta hua tha — jaise koi silent flame.
Usne mujhe bachaya bhi, aur confuse bhi kar diya.
War room mein sab ready the:
Mohit fake NGO system pe kaam kar raha tha, Priya medical setup design kar rahi thi, Mansi rifle clean kar rahi thi, aur Rahul quietly corner mein stand kar ke sab observe kar raha tha.
Aishani ne sab ke saamne file spread ki, tone calm lekin eyes intense:
“Vihaan Arya ya Kabir – same man, different face.
Ab tak hum uske clues pe dance kar rahe hain, par ab hum apna stage set karenge.”
Operation “Helping Hands”
Riya ne laptop rotate kiya, “Boss, NGO ka dummy page live ho gaya hai.
Fake donors, transactions, aur ek humanitarian camp next week scheduled.”
Aishani ne short nod diya, “Good. Agar woh humse khel raha hai, toh ab hum uske rules likhenge.”
Rahul ne slightly grin kiya, “And if he flips the board?”
“Then we flip it back,” Aishani ne calmly kaha.
Sab ne ek second ke liye uske confidence ko dekha – yehi reason tha ki woh leader thi.
Par uske andar jo turmoil chal raha tha, woh kisi ko nahi dikh raha tha.
Usne socha, Kabir ya Vihaan... tumhare naam chahe jitne ho, par tumne meri neend cheen li hai.
The Letter
Do din baad Riya ne ek encrypted mail trace kiya.
Subject line: “A volunteer with special skills would like to help.”
Aur niche likha tha —
Meet at the old observatory, 11 PM.
Mohit ne immediately bola, “Trap lagta hai.”
Rahul ne strong tone mein kaha, “We’re not going. Period.”
Aishani ne uske taraf dekha — calm, cold, focused.
“We’re going. But on our terms.”
Woh line uski signature thi. Jab bhi woh bolti thi “on our terms,” sabko pata hota tha — plan ready hai.
Mansi ne sniper angle map kiya, Riya ne satellite feed sync kiya, aur Priya ne medical backup ready rakha.
11 baje raat ko, woh observatory ek haunted monument lag rahi thi — purana dome, rusted telescope, aur hawa jo sirf metallic echo leke aa rahi thi.
Rahul aur Aishani andar enter hue, Mohit aur Priya cover pe the.
Ek old man wahan khada tha, nervously cap adjust karte hue.
Jaise hi unke footsteps aaye, woh bola —
“Woh yahan tha... the man with the owl. Usne ek bacha bachaya, aur bola… ‘Tell her I’m watching.’”
Aishani ne ek second ke liye freeze kiya.
“Watching… me?” usne poocha.
“Ji, the leader,” old man ne slowly kaha. “He said, ‘She’ll understand.’”
Rahul ne immediately approach kiya, “Where is he now?”
Lekin aadmi ne bas sir hila diya, “He comes and goes. Jaise hawa.”
Aishani ne us aadmi ko thanks kaha aur bahar nikal gayi.
Raat ki hawa thandi thi, par uske andar ka temperature badh gaya tha.
Rahul ne uske paas aake kaha, “He’s getting too close. You realize that?”
Aishani ne slowly bola, “I know.”
Rahul ne thoda harsh tone mein kaha, “He’s not just watching, Ash. He’s studying you.”
Usne aankhen uski aankhon mein daali, “Then let him study. Mujhe dekh kar bhi, woh mujhe samajh nahi payega.”
The Fundraiser
Agla din.
Helping Hands ka fake humanitarian event city ke center mein organize hua.
Colorful tents, fake donors, aur cameras jahan log smiles practice kar rahe the.
RAW team har jagah invisible form mein maujood thi.
Aishani ne ek elegant blazer pehna, hair tied back, aur face pe woh same confident smile —
the one she used to hide the war inside.
Rahul uske saath tha, quiet, alert, thoda possessive.
Mansi rooftop pe, Riya surveillance pe, aur Mohit ground team ke saath disguised.
Event smooth chal raha tha jab Riya ke comms pe ek ping aaya,
“Sector C mein ek face ping hua — partial match, Kabir.”
Aishani ka dil ek second ke liye freeze hua. “Kahan?”
“Crowd ke edge pe. But he’s blending in. Mask, cap, sunglasses.”
She turned slowly — thousands of faces.
Ek moment ke liye, ek man ne apni head slightly tilt ki — bas itna hi.
Aur Aishani ne instantly pehchaan liya.
He’s here.
Woh kuch nahi boli. Sirf ek small step forward liya.
Rahul ne arm pakda, “Not now.”
“Rahul…”
He shook his head, “Not like this.”
Aur woh right tha. Abhi sabke saamne usse confront karna suicide hota.
But uske andar kuch hil gaya tha.
Woh shadow ab real lagne lagi thi.
The Decoy Trap
Do din baad, Riya ne ek new bank transfer trace kiya — NGO ke naam pe ek payment ek coastal warehouse ke naam pe gaya tha.
Mission setup turant hua.
Plan simple: observe, infiltrate, capture.
Raat ke 2:00 baje.
Docks pe fog aur silence dono thick the.
Team ne silent approach liya.
Mansi rooftop cover, Riya comm link, Mohit jammers activate, Rahul aur Aishani main entry.
Inside the warehouse, rows of crates lined up.
Sab par wohi owl with crown logo.
Rahul ne ek crate open kiya — andar medicines, syringes, aur neeche ek false panel.
Us panel ke andar — passports, cash aur ek aur lighter.
Identical.
Aishani ne whisper kiya, “He’s mocking us.”
Tabhi upar se footsteps aaye.
Gun ready.
Team ne stair surround kiya.
Ek man pakda gaya — mid-30s, nervous, holding papers.
Mohit ne face expose kiya — unfamiliar.
Decoy.
Riya ka voice crackled, “No Vihaan. No Kabir. This was planted.”
Aishani ka frustration peak par tha. “He’s one step ahead again.”
Rahul ne calmly kaha, “Not ahead. He’s just predicting our moves.”
Aishani ne jawab diya, “Which means he knows me too well.”
Rahul ne softly bola, “Exactly what I’m afraid of.”
Night of Confessions
Safehouse. Late night.
Aishani balcony pe khadi thi, ek hoodie pehne hue, haath mein coffee aur dimaag mein chaos.
City ka skyline calm lag raha tha, par uske andar ek storm tha.
Rahul quietly peeche aaya.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Sleep left after DEN night,” usne half-smile ke saath bola.
Woh uske side khada hua. Silence stretched.
“Do you think he’s doing this just to mess with the mission?” Rahul ne poocha.
Aishani ne eyes close ki, “Nahi. Yeh personal lagta hai. Jaise woh mujhe provoke karna chahta ho… test karna chahta ho.”
Rahul ne direct dekha, “Aur tum allow kar rahi ho.”
Uska tone soft tha, par words sharp.
Aishani ne uski taraf mud kar kaha, “I’m not allowing, Rahul. I’m observing.”
Rahul ne step aur close liya, voice low, “Between observing and feeling — there’s a thin line, Aishani.”
Woh ek second ke liye chup rahi.
Phir bola, “Maybe he crossed that line first.”
Silence.
Dono ek dusre ko dekhte rahe, aur background mein sirf rain ki soft sound thi.
Woh moment dangerous tha — emotionally, professionally, aur personally.
Rahul ne uske face se ek hair strand hataya, aur bola, “Just… don’t lose yourself.”
Aishani ne whisper kiya, “Already did… the day I met his eyes.”
Rahul ne kuch nahi bola.
Woh jaanta tha, us line ke baad kuch kehna bekaar hai.
Mission ke beech feelings hamesha sab kuch barbaad karti hain — aur ab woh same trap mein gir rahe the.
The Shadow Returns
Agli subah Riya ne ek new feed show kiya —
ek fundraiser poster jisme Helping Hands ka logo tha, aur address ek coastal town ka.
Aur corner pe same owl with crown symbol, slightly blurred.
“Same signature,” Riya ne kaha.
Aishani ne deep breath liya. “He’s calling us again.”
Rahul ne quietly bola, “Or leading you again.”
Aishani ne us lighter ki photo table pe chipka di, aur file ka naam likha —
“VIHAAN – PATTERN.”
Niche chhoti line likhi —
‘I will hunt him… even if it means chasing my own reflection.’
Window ke bahar sea waves ka sound, aur distance mein ek figure balcony pe khada hai —
Cigarette ke flame se uska chehra thoda sa bright hota hai.
Usne softly bola,
“Agent A… you’re learning.”
Chapter 5 – The Ghost Within
Safehouse ke andar ek ajeeb sa silence tha.
Riya ke system screens glow kar rahe the, Mohit ke keyboard ke taps ek rhythm bana rahe the, aur table ke beech woh silver lighter rakha tha — wahi owl with crown engraving wala.
Aishani usse dekhti rahi, jaise woh ek object nahi, ek question ho… ek unanswered memory.
Usne apna coffee cup uthaya, ek sip li, aur calmly bola,
“Vihaan Arya sirf ek naam nahi… ek shadow hai. Aur hum uske andar ghus chuke hain.”
Rahul ne uski taraf dekha, “Shadow dangerous bhi hota hai, Aishani. You step in, you lose the light.”
Aishani ne half-smile diya, “Then maybe it’s time to become the dark.”
Ruhani’s Entry
Agli subah, Riya ne ek new file open ki:
“Boss, ek nayi volunteer register hui hai – name: Ruhani Sharma. Background clean hai, psychology student. Usne Helping Hands camp ke liye apply kiya hai.”
Mohit ne instantly bola, “We can use her as local help. Simple face, clean record.”
Rahul ne thoda cautious tone mein kaha, “Zyada clean lag rahi hai. Check twice.”
Aishani ne calmly reply diya, “Let her join. Par under surveillance. Agar Vihaan sach mein watch kar raha hai, to use har new face notice hoga.”
Ruhani ek simple ladki thi — innocent smile, soft tone, aur aankhon mein ek curiosity jo sach mein genuine thi.
Woh NGO ke kids ke saath laugh kar rahi thi, games khel rahi thi, aur har kisi ko thank-you keh rahi thi jaise duniya abhi bhi achi jagah hai.
Aishani ne usse door se dekha.
Ek second ke liye laga, “Kash main bhi aise normal hoti.”
Par RAW ke logon ke liye normal life ek luxury hoti hai — aur uske paas emotions ke liye waqt nahi tha.
Ya kam se kam usne khud ko yahi samjha rakha tha.
Kabir aur Ruhani
Camp ke teesre din ek aadmi volunteer tent ke paas aaya.
Dark coat, calm face, aur wohi confident walk.
“Main kuch blankets donate karna chahta hoon,” usne kaha.
Ruhani ne smile kiya, “That’s so kind of you, sir.”
Usne soft tone mein bola, “Kindness cheap hoti hai, bas kisi ke paas time hona chahiye.”
Ruhani ne uska name tag dekha — Kabir.
Aur us moment mein uske aankhon mein ek spark tha — ek ajeeb mix of familiarity aur charm.
Usne poocha, “Aap Helping Hands ke saath ho?”
Kabir ne simply kaha, “Kabhi tha, kabhi nahi. Bas help karta hoon jahan zarurat ho.”
Unka baat karna natural lag raha tha — books, college life, bachon ke liye plans.
Ruhani ko laga woh bas ek kind stranger hai.
Par RAW team ke monitors pe, Riya ka tone sharp ho gaya:
“Visual confirm — it’s him. Vihaan Arya alias Kabir. He’s right there.”
Aishani ne binoculars lagaya — aur us moment mein dono ke eyes mile.
Crowd ke beech, distance hone ke baad bhi — ek silent connection tha.
Uske lips pe ek slight smile aayi.
Aur uske andar kuch hil gaya.
The Meeting
Raat ko Aishani ne ek decision liya.
“Kal main usse milungi,” usne calmly announce kiya.
Rahul ne instantly react kiya, “No. It’s too risky. Agar woh trap hua toh?”
Aishani ne uski aankhon mein dekha, “Rahul, har baar fear se plan banana, failure ka pehla step hai.”
“Yeh bravery nahi… obsession lag raha hai, Ash,” Rahul ne softly bola.
Aishani ne sirf ek line boli, “Obsessed log hi truth dhoondte hain.”
Agli shaam, woh coastal road ke ek chhoti café mein gayi — casual disguise, soft curls open, aur ek neutral tone.
Kabir already wahan tha, window ke paas, coffee aur ek newspaper ke saath.
Usne seat ke opposite gesture kiya, “You found me again.”
Aishani ne reply diya, “You made sure I do.”
Kabir muskuraya, “Kuch cheezein accident nahi hoti, Agent A.”
Usne newspaper fold kiya, aur dheere se bola,
“Tum mujhe dhoondh rahi ho… lekin kya tum janna chahti ho main kyun bana yeh?”
Aishani ne aankhon se jawab diya, “Main sach chaahti hoon.”
Kabir ne sigh liya, “Sach dangerous hota hai. Main woh aadmi nahi jo tumhare file mein likha hai.”
“Par tumne woh logon ko maara jo system ke against the,” usne sharply bola.
Kabir ne calm tone mein kaha, “System ke rules kabhi kabhi insaan se zyada corrupt hote hain.”
Woh line uske dil ko chhoo gayi.
Ek second ke liye woh sirf ek criminal nahi lag raha tha — ek broken idealist lag raha tha.
Aishani ne softly poocha, “Aur mujhe bachaya kyun tha us raat bar mein?”
Kabir ne aankhon mein dekha aur bola, “Kyunki tum mujhe us duniya ki yaad dilati ho… jahan main insaan tha.”
Uske words ne hawa ko heavy kar diya.
Unke beech sirf silence tha… aur ek tension jo zyada dangerous thi kisi bhi bullet se.
Internal Leak
Us raat safehouse mein alarm chala.
Riya ne loudly bola, “Boss! Internal data leak detected — NGO server ke through ek file access hua hai, external IP trace ho raha hai.”
Mohit ne logs dekhe, “Ye access hua tha observatory ke baad.”
Rahul ne immediately bola, “Yani jab woh message aaya tha — ‘Tell her I’m watching’…”
Aishani ne teeth clench karte hue kaha, “Kisi ne andar se access diya.”
Riya ne type kiya, aur screen pe ek naam flash hua — Local logistics contractor: Arvind Rao.
Mohit ne disbelief mein bola, “Woh toh hamare saath camp mein hi tha!”
Rahul ne gun belt uthai, “Main jaake dekhta hoon.”
Aishani ne warning tone mein kaha, “No killing. Bring him back alive. I want to hear it myself.”
The Confrontation
Raat ke 2 baje Rahul aur Mansi us warehouse pahuche jahan Arvind ka trace gaya tha.
Ek small storage room, ek trembling aadmi, aur ek laptop open screen pe flashing cursor.
“Why’d you leak our data?” Rahul ne cold tone mein poocha.
Arvind ne panic mein kaha, “Unhone mujhe majboor kiya! Mujhe dhamki mili thi… agar main data na du, toh meri family—”
“Unhone?” Rahul ne interrupt kiya, “Kaun?”
Arvind ne slowly bola, “Ek aadmi… naam nahi bataya, par usne bas ek sentence bola — ‘The King is watching.’”
Rahul ne Aishani ko comm pe bola, “He used the King title. Confirmed – this is Vihaan’s channel.”
Aishani ne calmly kaha, “Trace the number. Freeze him. No arrest yet. He’s bait now.”
Rahul ne Arvind ke phone pe tracker chip lagayi aur usse warn kiya, “Ek aur galti ki toh system tumhe nahi, main niptata hoon.”
Mansi ne quietly kaha, “Let’s move.”
The Ghost Awakens
Back at safehouse, Riya ne phone trace activate kiya.
Screen pe ek new message pop hua:
“Do nothing. We watch.”
Aishani ne us line ko padte hue softly bola, “He’s not hiding anymore. He’s haunting.”
Rahul uske paas aaya.
“Tumhe lagta hai woh tumhe personally target kar raha hai?”
Aishani ne uske aankhon mein dekha, “Nahi Rahul… woh mujhe test kar raha hai. Dekhna chahta hai main kis limit tak ja sakti hoon.”
Rahul ne thoda emotional tone mein bola, “Aur agar woh limit tumhe khud se dur le jaaye?”
Usne faint smile ke saath kaha, “Tab ya toh main usse tod dungi… ya khud toot jaungi.”
Woh silence dangerous tha — unspoken feelings aur war dono ek saath chal rahe the.
The Final Frame
Raat ke end mein, sab so rahe the.
Bas Aishani jaag rahi thi — balcony pe, coffee aur woh lighter ke saath.
Flame jalai, aur flame ne uske face ko softly glow diya.
Usne whisper kiya, “You can hide anywhere, Vihaan… but I’ll always find you.”
Kahin city ke dusre corner mein, ek dark flat ke andar, Vihaan cigarette jalata hai aur whisper karta hai —
“Let’s see, Agent A… how long before you burn.”
Screen fade out hoti hai.
“The ghost is not outside… it’s within
Chapter 6 — Crossfire
Raat ke baad subah ka light safehouse ke sheeshe se andar aa raha tha, par room ke andar ek thandi si tension still thi — jaise raat abhi bhi khatam nahi hui ho.
Aishani apni files ke beech baithi thi, coffee ka cup half-empty, aur saamne wohi silver lighter rakha tha — engraved with the crowned owl.
Ek symbol.
Ek signature.
Aur ek warning — Vihaan Arya ab sirf mission ka naam nahi raha tha, woh ek obsession ban chuka tha.
“Boss,” Riya ne screen rotate karte hue kaha, “I got something — Vihaan ke records mein ek purana naam baar-baar aa raha hai — Suresh Rao.”
Aishani ne brow raise kiya, “Suresh Rao?”
“Ek NGO founder. Twenty years ago orphanages chalaata tha. Par baad mein corruption, missing kids aur fund siphoning ke cases aaye the. Tab Vihaan ek chhota ladka tha — orphanage ke files mein uska naam hai.”
Room silent ho gaya.
Mohit ne softly kaha, “Toh matlab uska mentor wohi tha.”
Rahul window ke paas khada tha, arms crossed. “So the man who taught him compassion… taught him control too.”
Aishani ne photo dekha — ek chhota ladka, thin face, ek choti si scar near his mouth, par aankhon mein kuch tha — maturity ya madness, keh nahi sakti thi.
“Some people are born bad,” she said quietly. “But some are trained to be.”
Vihaan ka Past — The Making of a King
(Short flashback)
Rain always reminded him of discipline.
Suresh Rao ke orphanage mein har baar barish hoti, to roof se paani tapakta, aur bacho ko soup milta.
Ek din Vihaan ne poocha, “Uncle, agar hum itne gareeb hain to aapke paas naye shoes kaise hain?”
Suresh ne muskura ke kaha, “Because I learned to use kindness like business. People donate more when they believe you care.”
That night, Vihaan samajh gaya: Power doesn’t come from fear — it comes from trust.
Aur jab Suresh gaayab hua, Vihaan ne wohi formula apni duniya mein apply kiya —
Love, then rule.
Help, then hurt.
Woh “King of Shadows” ban gaya — jiska naam suna jaata tha par pakda nahi jaata.
The Coastal Mission
Riya ka alert next morning sab kuch hilaa gaya.
“Boss, coastal port pe unusual transfer detect hua hai. Same NGO name — Helping Hands.”
Aishani ne immediately bola, “Pack up. We move now.”
Team ready thi:
– Aishani aur Rahul field mein,
– Riya mobile van se surveillance,
– Mohit backup intel pe,
– Mansi rooftop overwatch pe.
Coastal town silent tha — hawa mein salt aur suspicion dono the.
Containers stacked like a maze. Lights low.
Sab kuch calm lag raha tha jab tak Mohit ne ek crate open nahi kiya — andar humanitarian aid ke cartons the, lekin neeche… fake passports aur cash bundles.
Aur ek ledger, signed by — Arjun Verma.
Aishani ne cold tone mein kaha, “He’s being used again.”
Rahul ne jaw clench kiya, “Ya phir willingly helping.”
Unhone sab record kiya aur mission wrap karne lage.
Tabhi Riya ne comm pe bola, “Incoming movement near the dockyard. Multiple thermals detected. Stay alert.”
Aur uske baad — silence tod diya gaya gunfire se.
The Crossfire
RAT-A-TAT-TAT!
Bullets tore through the night. Sparks flew.
“Contact south side!” Rahul shouted, dragging Aishani behind a container.
She hit the ground, dust and salt filling her lungs.
“Who fired first?” Aishani yelled into comms.
Riya: “Not us! Two unknown groups — looks like someone’s using your cover!”
Woh corner se peek karti hai — 3 masked gunmen ek dusre pe bhi fire kar rahe the.
Rahul ne ek ko down kiya, Mansi ki sniper shot ne dusre ko disarm kar diya.
Lekin chaos intentional lag raha tha.
Aishani ne quickly move karke ek crate ke peeche collapse hua man dekha — Arjun Verma.
Bruised, bleeding, terrified.
“They made me do it,” woh gasp karte hue bola. “They said they’d kill my family if I didn’t move the shipments. They knew your names… everything!”
Rahul ne gun drop kar diya, “It’s the same trick again. He’s using them as pawns.”
Aishani ka mind race kar raha tha — sab kuch connect ho raha tha, par answer aur bhi dark lag raha tha.
“This wasn’t an attack,” she whispered. “It was a distraction.”
Aur comms pe turant Riya ka voice aaya,
“Confirmed! Ek van dock se nikal gaya hai — partial plate match to Vihaan’s NGO shell company.”
Aishani ne aankhein band ki.
“He wanted us here… and he wanted us to fail quietly.”
Woh raat unke liye ek cold message thi — Vihaan doesn’t fight head-on. He plays Crossfire.
The Inside Leak
Next morning, safehouse mein ek uneasy silence tha.
Riya ke screen pe ek new window khuli — “NGO system access logs breached again. Internal IP.”
Mohit ne quickly scroll kiya, “Ye Munich liaison se hua hai. Koi hamara trusted admin port use kar raha tha.”
Screen pe naam flash hua — Damien Keller.
Wahi man jo unka permit officer tha.
Always polite, always smiling, aur har paperwork time pe karta tha.
Kuch ghanto baad woh safehouse ke interrogation room mein tha.
Aishani ne uske saamne baith ke poocha, “Why’d you sell us out, Damien?”
Woh nervous tha. “They reached me. Messages, threats, photos of my family. They said if I didn’t send data, they’d find my daughter at her school. I had no choice.”
Rahul ne table pe fist maara, “You always have a choice.”
Damien ka voice tremble hua, “Not when your child is on the line.”
Aishani chup rahi — aankhen uske face pe, dil uske words mein.
She finally said softly, “Vihaan doesn’t need to kill people. He just makes them fear enough to obey.”
Riya ne quietly note likha, “Fear as leverage. That’s his weapon.”
Safehouse mein sab ko realization hua — The enemy wasn’t just one man. It was an ideology of fear.
The Emotional Crossfire
Raat ko sab so rahe the, par Aishani balcony pe khadi thi.
Rain ne city ko ek glass curtain jaisa bana diya tha.
Uske haath mein coffee thi, dimaag mein storm.
Rahul quietly aaya, uske paas khada ho gaya.
“You should sleep,” usne bola.
Aishani ne soft tone mein kaha, “Can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”
Rahul ne sigh kiya, “That’s exactly what he wants.”
Woh turn hui aur uski aankhon mein dekha.
“Maybe I need to understand him to destroy him.”
Rahul ne step aur close liya, “Or maybe you’ll lose yourself trying.”
Unke beech sirf rain ki sound thi, aur ek silence jisme emotions raw aur dangerous dono the.
Ek second ke liye usne uska hand pakda — steady, strong, protective.
Aishani ne bas whisper kiya, “I won’t break, Rahul.”
Aur Rahul ne quietly kaha, “Then don’t let him in.”
Par dono jaante the — he was already in.
The King’s Shadow
Dusre corner mein, ek dusre flat mein —
Vihaan balcony pe khada tha, cigarette ke smoke ke saath ek slow smile uske lips pe tha.
Uske tablet screen pe ek live surveillance still — Aishani ka image, balcony pe, rain ke andar.
Usne softly bola,
“Agent A… every move you make, I’m already there.”
Usne lighter jalaya, flame ke andar reflection dekha aur whisper kiya,
“You don’t even realize — you’re part of my plan now.”
City ki lights rain mein blink kar rahi hain, ek hero aur ek villain ek hi sky share kar rahe hain, dono ek dusre ko destroy karne ke liye banaye gaye hain.
This is not war anymore. This is personal.
Chapter 7 — Smoke and Mirrors
Munich ka weather us din ajeeb tha — na barish, na dhoop.
Bas hawa mein ek saaf si thakan.
Safehouse ke andar sab apne apne stations par the — Riya ke screens blink kar rahe the, Mohit ke keyboard ke taps room mein echo kar rahe the, aur table ke beech woh silver lighter rakha tha, jisme chhoti si owl aur crown engraving still shine kar rahi thi.
Aishani ne usse dekha — jaise woh ek simple cheez nahi, balki ek challenge ho.Ek aisi warning jo keh rahi ho — “You’re not chasing me, you’re following my trail.”
“Boss,” Riya ne bola, “ek aur clue mila hai. Vihaan ke mentor ka naam confirm hua hai — Suresh Rao.”
Aishani ne file utha li. “Suresh Rao?”
“NGO founder tha,” Riya ne explain kiya. “Public image ek saint ki thi, lekin andar se woh corruption aur trafficking mein involved tha. Aur sabse important — orphanage ke records mein ek ladka hai… naam: Vihaan Rao Arya.”
Rahul ne thoda sarcastic tone mein bola, “Toh monster ko banane wala uska teacher hi tha.”
Aishani ne file close ki. “Tabhi woh duniya ke ache kaam ko apna mask bana leta hai.”
Vihaan’s Mentor — The Origin of Darkness
(Flashback Style)
Suresh Rao ek aisa aadmi tha jo smile karta tha jab camera on hota tha.
White kurta, neat beard, aur har sentence mein “humanity” shabd.
Par orphanage ke andar, bachon ko woh insaan nahi, ek businessman lagta tha.
Ek raat barish ho rahi thi, aur Vihaan, ek 12 saal ka ladka, chhoti si khidki se dekh raha tha kaise Suresh dono haathon se soup serve karte hue bol raha tha,
“People donate because they want to feel good, Vihaan. Make them believe they’re saving the world, and they’ll never question where the money goes.”
Us raat Vihaan ne seekha: Emotion se paisa banta hai. Fear se power.
Aur jab kuch saalon baad Suresh gayab hua — no body, no report — tab Vihaan ne uska formula apne naam likh liya.
Charity ko business bana diya.
Trust ko weapon.
Aur naam rakha — The King.
The New Pattern
Safehouse ke board par photos chipke hue the: Suresh, orphanage, ledger, aur Vihaan.
Aishani ne pointer se circle banaya. “He’s not random. He’s systematic. Yeh sab ek pattern hai — he builds trust, then corrupts it.”
Riya ne screen par new data dikhaya. “Boss, ek pattern repeat ho raha hai — Helping Hands ke naam se small donations ja rahe hain, phir ek mahine baad woh accounts shell NGOs mein shift ho jaate hain. It’s a silent funnel.”
Mohit ne bola, “Aur sab transactions ke reference ID mein ek code likha hota hai — A.P.”
Rahul ne smirk kiya, “Alms Protocol.”
Aishani ne quietly kaha, “Suresh ki legacy. Vihaan ne usko upgrade kar liya.”
Room ek second ke liye silent ho gaya. Sabke dimaag mein ek hi baat thi — Vihaan doesn’t just deal in crime; he deals in faith.
Ruhani — The Soft Target
NGO camp mein ab sab normal lag raha tha, par Ruhani ke life mein ek silent twist aa chuka tha.
Uske pocket mein woh coin tha — owl engraved coin, jo Kabir ne diya tha.
Woh usse har din touch karti thi jaise koi lucky charm ho.
Ek shaam, jab sun golden hue mein dhal rahi thi, Kabir (Vihaan) uske paas aaya.
Kids khil rahe the, aur woh ek thermos lekar uske paas khada hua.
“You work too hard,” usne softly kaha.
Ruhani ne smile kiya, “Helping feels good. I don’t know why but… I feel peaceful here.”
Kabir ne halki si smile ke saath kaha, “Peace bhi ek luxury hai, Ruhani. Aur tum lucky ho, tumhe abhi tak uski price nahi deni padi.”
Ruhani thoda confuse hui, par uske tone mein warmth thi.
“Yeh coin rakho,” usne kaha, “it’ll remind you that goodness is rare. Protect it.”
Ruhani ne bina soch samjhe accept kar liya.
Kahi corner mein Aishani binoculars se sab dekh rahi thi.
Uske andar ek ajeeb sa anger aur fear mix ho gaya tha.
Woh softly boli, “He’s not meeting her for charity… he’s measuring her innocence.”
Riya ke comms mein awaaz aayi, “Boss, Ruhani ke phone pe ek unknown ping aaya hai, location scrambled.”
Aishani ne reply diya, “Tag her. No solo fieldwork from now on.”
Uske voice mein ek strange protectiveness thi — soldier wali nahi, human wali.
The Smoke Event
Ek hafte baad Helping Hands ka annual gala tha — ek event jahan press, donors aur politicians sab invite the.
Yehi Vihaan ka stage tha — aur Aishani ne decide kiya ussi stage par usse face karegi.
Black dress, minimal jewelry, aur woh calm walk — jaise ek storm ka center ho.
Rahul uske side mein tux pehne hue tha, eyes scanning the room.
Mohit aur Riya disguised security feed manage kar rahe the.
Crowd applause kar raha tha jab Kabir stage par aaya.
Suit, confidence aur ek voice jo directly hearts ko hit karti thi.
“Kindness,” usne bola, “is the only investment that always gives return.”
Audience clap karne lagi.
Aishani ne uski aankhon mein dekha — woh insaan nahi, ek actor lag raha tha.
Every word was a trap wrapped in emotion.
Speech ke baad jab sab photo aur handshakes mein busy the, woh quietly uske paas gayi.
Balcony pe dono face to face.
“You enjoy playing with fire, Kabir?”
Vihaan ne smile kiya, “Only when the flame stares back.”
“Stop hiding behind fake causes,” Aishani ne coldly bola.
He leaned closer, voice almost a whisper, “Fake? Tell me, Agent A… is your care for people real? Or is it just duty dressed as empathy?”
Aishani ek second ke liye speechless thi.
Unke beech sirf 6 inches ka distance tha — aur usme ek war chal raha tha, heart aur mission ke beech.
Woh softly boli, “You’ll fall someday, Vihaan.”
Usne calmly jawab diya, “Maybe. But I’ll make sure you’re the one who catches me.”
Aishani ne step back liya, magar uska heartbeat loud tha.
Woh jaanta tha uska weakness kya hai — humanity.
The Mirror Cracks
Event ke baad safehouse mein Riya ne panic ke saath report dikhayi.
“Boss, system breach hua hai! Someone accessed our NGO admin panel during the gala.”
Mohit ne data dekha. “Admin access Nikhil Basu ke credentials se hua — hamara temporary liaison.”
Aishani ne immediately bola, “Track him. No confrontation yet.”
Raat ke 11:45, Rahul aur Aishani Nikhil ke flat pe पहुंचे.
Door knock karte hi ek nervous voice aayi, “Kaun?”
“RAW,” Rahul ne crisp tone mein bola.
Nikhil ne door khola, face pale tha.
“Main kuch nahi jaanta, ma’am,” woh stutter karte hue bola.
Aishani ne calmly kaha, “You mirrored our system. Why?”
Uske aankhon se tears nikle. “They sent me my sister’s photo… with a message — ‘The King is watching.’ I didn’t want to, but they made me!”
Rahul ne softly poocha, “Kisne?”
“Unknown number… sirf ek voice. Deep, calm, Indian accent.”
Aishani ne sigh kiya. “He’s everywhere and nowhere.”
Usne phone Riya ko bhej diya for trace.
Riya ne confirm kiya, “Burner phone. No trace left.”
Aishani ne apna coat pehna aur quietly bola,
“Vihaan doesn’t bribe. He enslaves through fear. That’s worse.”
The Emotional Crossfire
Late night.
Rain fir se shuru ho gayi thi.
Aishani balcony pe khadi thi, city lights ke reflection uske coffee cup mein.
Rahul aaya, quietly.
“Tumhe pata hai, Ash,” usne bola, “he’s not just fighting us… he’s studying us.”
Aishani ne dekha, “Tab hum usse seekh lenge.”
Rahul thoda close aaya. “You’re changing. You’re letting him in.”
Woh soft smile ke saath boli, “Maybe you have to walk into a monster’s mind to destroy him.”
Rahul ne whisper kiya, “Bas khud ko mat khona uske beech.”
Aishani ne aankhon se jawab diya, “I won’t.”
Aur woh pal — silence aur rain ke beech — ek unspoken bond ban gaya.
War ke beech bhi ek corner hota hai jahan hearts still beat in sync.
The King’s Promise
City ke dusre end pe, ek dark apartment mein, Vihaan balcony pe khada tha.
Cigarette ke flame ne uske face ko half-light diya.
Uske tablet screen pe ek photo thi — Aishani, gala ke balcony pe.
Usne softly bola, “She’s learning… but she still doesn’t know she’s already my reflection.”
Woh muskuraya — ek cold, intelligent smile.
Smoke curl kar rahi hai, window ke bahar sheher blink kar raha hai.
Do shadows — ek justice, ek sin — ek hi battlefield pe ready ho rahe hain.
Yeh sirf mission nahi raha.
Yeh personal war ban gaya tha.