The room felt smaller with every breath. The presence lurking outside wasn't just a shadow—it was a threat.
Satya's mind raced. The door had been locked from the outside. Someone was waiting for them.
Then—a loud crash.
The door burst open, and a figure lunged inside.
Saanvi gasped as Aryan tackled the intruder, pinning him against the stone wall. The man—a lean, rugged figure with a scar across his cheek—thrashed violently but made no attempt to call for help.
Satya stepped closer. "Who sent you?"
The man spat at his feet. His eyes, dark and sharp, held no fear—only cold resolve.
Virendra grabbed his collar. "You locked us in. You've been watching us. Who are you working for?!"
The man smirked. "You don't want to know."
Satya's pulse pounded. "Veer Meghawal was betrayed. Someone is still trying to keep it buried. Who?"
The smirk vanished. A flicker of hesitation crossed the man's face, but he didn't answer.
Then, before anyone could react—his hand darted inside his coat.
Saanvi's scream rang through the chamber as the man slammed something into his own throat.
A blade.
Blood gushed down his chest as he staggered, collapsing to his knees. His gasping breaths faded into choking silence.
Satya's stomach twisted. He killed himself.
Aryan cursed, stepping back. Virendra grabbed the man's shoulders, shaking him. "Who sent you?! Tell us!"
But it was too late. His lips moved, but no words came. His secret would die with him.
Saanvi clutched Satya's arm. "He was more afraid of his master than of dying."
A deadly silence settled over them.
Satya clenched his fists. Whoever was behind this wasn't just powerful. They were ruthless.
And they were still watching.