The night was quiet—too quiet.
Then gunfire shattered it.
In the deserted streets of Mumbai, three men sprinted through the darkness, their breaths ragged, shoes slamming against the asphalt. Jimmy led the way, clutching a bag stuffed with gold. Mike followed, glancing back nervously. Edward carried a crying baby in his arms.
Behind them—
Officer Samradh.
Relentless.
His boots pounded the road as he chased them, jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury.
"Dammit…" he muttered, pushing harder.
The kidnappers reached a car and yanked the doors open.
"Move! Move!" Jimmy shouted.
They sped off just as Samradh reached the end of the street.
He skidded to a halt, breathing heavily, rage flashing across his face.
"They got away," he snapped, grabbing his radio. "Bring the jeep. Now."
Inside the car, tension hung thick.
The baby's cries filled the cramped space.
Edward grimaced, irritation flickering across his face. He bounced the baby awkwardly.
"Shut up…" he muttered. Then louder, "Should I just throw him out?"
Mike turned sharply. "Are you insane? Don't touch the kid. That'll bring more heat on us."
Edward clicked his tongue.
"Then what? I'm not babysitting."
Jimmy's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
"Relax. We'll dump him somewhere. Temple steps, maybe."
A few minutes later, the car slowed near a small temple dedicated to Lord Shiva.
The engine idled.
Jimmy stepped out, glanced around, then gently—almost carelessly—placed the baby on the cold stone steps.
The child cried louder, tiny hands flailing.
Jimmy didn't look back.
He got into the car, and they drove off.
The night swallowed the sound of the engine.
Silence returned.
Then—
Low growls.
From the shadows, five stray dogs emerged. Their eyes glinted under the dim light as they circled the baby slowly.
The crying grew sharper. Desperate.
One dog stepped forward, baring its teeth—
And lunged.
Suddenly—
THUD.
The dog was thrown back violently, crashing onto the ground with a yelp.
The others froze.
A shadow stretched across the steps.
A figure stood at the temple entrance.
Tall. Still.
Wings—folded, dark, unmoving—rested against his back.
His presence alone made the dogs whimper before scattering into the night.
The baby's cries softened.
The figure didn't move.
He simply stood there… watching.
Far away, the kidnappers' car sped through a forest road.
Inside, exhaustion had taken over.
Mike and Edward slumped in their seats, asleep.
The car jolted over a pothole.
Mike stirred, groaning slightly. His eyes fluttered open.
"…ugh…"
He turned his head lazily toward Edward.
Then froze.
Edward's body sat beside him.
But his head—
Was gone.
For a moment, Mike's brain refused to process it.
Then—
"AAAAHHH!"
His scream tore through the car.
"Jimmy! Jimmy! Look—look at this!"
He grabbed Jimmy's shoulder violently.
Jimmy didn't respond.
Mike's breath hitched.
Slowly… trembling… he turned Jimmy's face toward him.
Nothing.
No head.
Just blood.
Mike's scream became hysterical.
The car swerved wildly, tires screeching—
Then smashed into a tree.
Silence.
Broken only by the ticking engine.
And Mike's weak groans.
He dragged himself out of the wreck, his body shaking, blood dripping from his forehead. His legs barely worked. He collapsed onto the dirt, then started crawling toward the road.
"Help… help…" he rasped.
Headlights appeared.
A jeep stopped beside him.
Relief flooded his face.
"Please… help—"
The door opened.
Boots hit the ground.
Mike's eyes widened as Officer Samradh stepped out.
Without a word, Samradh grabbed him by the collar and shoved a gun into his mouth.
Mike choked, eyes filled with terror.
Samradh leaned closer, voice cold.
"Where's the baby?"
Nineteen years later
Vikram woke up with a lazy stretch, arms reaching toward the ceiling as he yawned.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains.
"Another day…" he muttered.
Now twenty, a second-year college student, he dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
A few minutes later—
His phone rang.
"Shit—"
Still wrapped in a towel, he rushed out, his wet feet slipping—
"Whoa—!"
He crashed onto the floor.
"Ow… damn it…"
Groaning, he grabbed the phone.
"Yeah, Mom… yeah, we reached Delhi safely. I'll be back in three days."
On the other end, Anu's voice was warm.
"Take care, okay? And don't take candy from strangers."
Vikram rolled his eyes, a small smile forming.
"Mom… I'm not a kid."
She giggled. "Okay, okay. Bye. Take care."
The call ended.
Outside, Vikram stepped into the busy streets of Delhi.
He pulled out his phone and turned the camera toward himself while walking through Chor Bazaar.
"So… yeah," he said casually, adjusting his hair. "You probably think I lied about the college trip."
He smirked.
"Okay, I did."
Around him, stolen goods were displayed openly—phones, watches, chocolates—everything laid out like vegetables in a market.
"But I have a reason."
His tone shifted slightly.
"I keep seeing visions… of the Red Fort."
Later, standing near the massive red walls of the fort, Vikram licked his ice cream slowly, eyes scanning every corner.
"This is the place…" he murmured.
His brows furrowed.
"For years… that door…"
A large wooden door with a lotus carving.
A golden coin.
A mysterious girl.
The visions never stopped.
"…either it's real," he said under his breath, "or I've officially gone insane."
That night—
Vikram lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Frustration built in his chest.
"…nothing."
He exhaled sharply.
Then—
His body stiffened.
His vision blurred.
Darkness swallowed everything.
He stood in a grand hall.
Massive. Endless.
The floor beneath him shimmered like water.
Vikram took a cautious step—
The surface rippled.
He jerked back slightly.
"What the hell…?"
He walked forward slowly, every step uncertain.
A door stood ahead.
Open.
Or… closed?
He frowned.
"…okay, that's weird."
He reached out and pushed it.
The door opened—
But somehow, still looked closed.
Vikram blinked in confusion.
"What kind of illusion is this…?"
He stepped outside.
What looked like crystal beneath his feet suddenly shifted—
And he dropped straight into water.
"Wha—!"
He swam up, gasping.
"Seriously?!"
Coughing, he pulled himself back inside.
"This place is insane…"
He moved deeper into the hall.
Then saw it.
A throne.
Massive. Golden. Radiating power.
"…wow."
Almost unconsciously, he walked toward it.
His fingers brushed against the surface.
"Is this real…?"
Slowly—
He sat down.
Everything stopped.
The air froze.
The light flickered.
Then—
The hall filled.
People appeared.
Dozens. Hundreds.
Dressed in ancient royal attire.
Watching him.
Vikram's smile faded.
"…uh…"
A man slipped.
A woman laughed.
Vikram chuckled instinctively.
But the laughter echoed—
Too loud.
Too wrong.
Silence followed.
Every single person turned toward him.
Their expressions—cold.
Deadly.
Swords were drawn.
Archers formed arrows from thin air.
And began walking toward him.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
A drop of sweat slid down Vikram's temple.
"…okay…"
His voice shook slightly.
"This is not good."
An arrow shot toward him.
His eyes widened—
He ducked just in time.
"Hey! Wait—!"
They didn't stop.
They didn't listen.
They advanced.
Vikram turned and ran.
Footsteps thundered behind him.
"Are you serious?!"
Panic surged through him.
"Someone help me!"