The room smelled of damp iron and old smoke. A single bulb swung above Aanchal's head, casting long shadows that made the walls feel closer than they were.
Chains bit into her wrists, pulling her arms upward until her shoulders burned. Her toes barely brushed the cold concrete floor, leaving her body trembling with the effort of holding herself up.
Kairav stood in front of her, the only man in the room who looked entirely comfortable. His suit was flawless, black fabric catching the light in sharp angles. He scrolled through the burner phone in his hand as if it were nothing more than a quarterly report. Every so often, his lips curved into a thin smile, like a man who already knew the ending of a story.
"Why are you here?" he asked finally, his voice calm, almost casual. "How much do your friends know? What did you bring back from that world you stumbled into?"
Aanchal's throat was dry, but she held her silence. Her eyes, though tired and rimmed with red, locked on him with the same fire that had carried her through every fight so far.
Kairav's thumb brushed across the screen again. "You've been busy. Messages, codes, fake IDs. Resourceful, I'll admit." He looked up at her. "But resourceful doesn't mean useful."
She didn't respond. Her jaw tightened, the only answer she gave.
For a moment, the only sound was the buzzing of the bulb and the faint hum of air conditioning buried somewhere in the walls. Then Veeraj stepped closer. His massive frame filled half the room, his presence like a shadow given form. He bent slightly, speaking in Kairav's ear, his voice low but heavy enough that Aanchal caught fragments. Words like "delegates," "security rotation," and "Chanakyapuri" slipped through.
Kairav's smile widened just a fraction. He nodded, tapping the phone against his palm before slipping it into his pocket.
"Tomorrow evening," he said, as if speaking to himself more than to her. "A gala. Very important people waiting to hear how SynerTech will change the future. They expect me polished, punctual, persuasive." He smoothed the front of his jacket, fingers lingering on the buttons. "Not down here, wasting my time."
Aanchal felt her arms shaking, but she forced her gaze not to falter.
Kairav stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You think your silence buys time. But time is mine to spend, not yours. After tomorrow, when the curtain has dropped and the world has had its glimpse, I will come back. And then, we'll talk again. Very nicely."
The words were not shouted, not even sharp. That made them worse.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifting briefly to something colder, more focused. He answered with the ease of a man closing a deal.
"Yes. Tomorrow night. The shard will be unveiled exactly as promised. Security is already doubled. No one will touch it." A pause. His eyes flicked to Aanchal, chained and silent. "Yes. I understand the stakes."
He ended the call and adjusted his cuffs, as if the entire exchange were just another item on his calendar. He turned to Veeraj. "Keep her breathing. Nothing more, nothing less. I want her alive when I return."
Veeraj nodded, his scarred face unreadable.
Kairav gave Aanchal one last glance, the kind of look a collector might give a piece he intended to break apart and study. Then he moved to the door. The metal groaned as it opened, light spilling in for a moment before vanishing again as it slammed shut.
The chains rattled softly as Aanchal shifted, testing them again, her arms screaming with pain. No use. She let her head fall forward, sweat dripping from her brow. For the first time since being dragged here, she allowed herself a single shaky breath.
She was still alive. And that had to mean her friends were still coming.
The warehouse was cold, its walls groaning against the winter night outside. A single lantern lit the makeshift table in the center, scattering maps, half-burnt cigarettes, and empty Chai cups across its surface. Everyone sat or stood around it, shoulders tight, words hanging in the air like sparks waiting to catch.
Rajni stood near the center of the table, "I got confirmation," she said, laying a folded sheet down. The paper bore the outline of SynerTech's headquarters, a sleek structure of glass and steel. "Tomorrow night, Kairav is hosting a gala in Chanakyapuri. The shard is being presented to foreign delegates as a clean energy breakthrough."
Mansi leaned forward, adjusting her glasses to peer at the sketch. "He's showing it publicly?" Her tone was sharp disbelief. "That's not just reckless, it's suicidal."
Rajni didn't answer immediately. Her finger tapped the map once. "At the same time, I think that Aanchal will be moved from the main building. She's no longer in the lower labs. They might move her to an old factory site SynerTech bought up in the same district. Easier to guard, harder for us to reach."
The group fell silent. Shivam crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. Bhumika, sitting beside him, kept her eyes on the map, though her hands had curled into fists in her lap.
Finally, Mansi broke the silence. "Then we do the obvious thing. We call the police. Aanchal was kidnapped; she's being held illegally. It's their job, not ours."
Dikshant immediately shook his head, his voice rising. "And tell them what? That she broke into SynerTech under a stolen identity? That she was caught trespassing in restricted labs? They'll book her as a criminal before they even think about rescuing her."
"She's still a victim," Mansi shot back. "She was taken. Beaten. Chained up. Are you saying the police won't act?"
"They'll act," Dikshant said, his voice tight. "But not the way you think. By the time they get their warrants, their chains of command, their endless red tape sorted, Aanchal will be gone. Or worse."
Shivam raised his hand, cutting off the argument before it grew. "Enough. This isn't about the police. They won't touch SynerTech, not when half their funding comes from government contracts. We do this ourselves, or we don't do it at all."
The words settled over them, heavy but undeniable.
Aman spoke next, his voice steady but carrying an edge. "So, what, we storm the factory? Kick down doors? They'll have guards, cameras, maybe Guns. We don't even know how many people we're walking into."
Rathod's eyes flicked toward him. "That's why we use the gala. Security will be split. If Shivam shows himself in front of Kairav, if Bhumika is with him, then Veeraj and the top men will be drawn there to save Kairav. That leaves the factory weaker. And I assume that even at this type of special day for them, they don't want to siren any alarm due to firing guns from their old un used factory"
Sumit adjusted his watch, his tone almost casual but his face serious. "A decoy. Gala becomes the distraction; factory becomes the target."
"And if either side fails?" Bhumika asked quietly. Her voice wasn't soft, but there was a weight to it that made the others pause.
"Then we lose Aanchal," Rathod said bluntly. "And the shard falls fully into Kairav's hands with the government support to him as well. That's the cost."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Everyone shifted, eyes darting from one face to another, as if waiting for someone else to take the first step. Finally, Shivam exhaled and nodded. "Then we split. Gala team draws fire. Factory team goes in and gets her out."