The night air was thick with the scent of rain, the distant rumble of thunder rolling through the darkened streets of Kolkata. Aarav and Meera ran through the narrow alleyways, their breaths heavy, their minds racing. The stolen documents from the underground chamber weighed heavy in Aarav's backpack, but the real burden was the truth they had uncovered.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was alive—or at least, he had been. And now, they weren't the only ones who knew it.
From behind, the distant roar of a motorcycle engine echoed through the alley. Aarav's grip tightened around Meera's wrist as they darted into a side street, pressing their backs against the cold stone walls of an abandoned building. The sound of boots hitting wet pavement grew louder.
They were being hunted.
Meera whispered, "They must've followed us from the underground chamber."
Aarav nodded, his heart hammering against his ribs. He peeked around the corner and spotted two men dressed in black, their faces hidden behind masks. Operation Ashwamedh's enforcers.
"Meera," he whispered, "we need to split up. They're too close."
Meera hesitated. "No, Aarav. We stick together."
Aarav's mind was a whirlwind of fear and strategy. If they were caught now, it was over. He had no choice.
"Trust me," he said. "Go to the old tram station near Howrah Bridge. I'll meet you there."
Meera looked into his eyes, her own filled with hesitation. Then she nodded. "Be careful."
Aarav watched as she disappeared into the darkness, then turned back to face the inevitable.
The footsteps grew louder. This was it.
The Hunter and the Hunted
Aarav stepped into the open. "Looking for me?"
The two masked men stopped. The taller one chuckled. "Brave. Or just foolish?"
Aarav smiled, but his fists clenched. "Depends on how you look at it."
The second man pulled out a knife. "Give us the bag."
Aarav exhaled slowly. If he handed over the documents, everything would be lost. If he fought… he might not make it out alive.
He took a step back.
The taller man lunged.
Aarav dodged just in time, his reflexes sharper than he had ever imagined. He swung his backpack, catching the first man in the chest. The second attacker slashed at him, the blade grazing his arm. Pain shot through him, but he didn't stop.
With everything he had, Aarav rammed his knee into the masked man's stomach, sending him crashing into a pile of crates.
A sudden gunshot shattered the silence.
Aarav's blood ran cold. He turned—the taller man had drawn a pistol.
"Game over," the man sneered, finger tightening on the trigger.
Before Aarav could react, a loud bang echoed.
The attacker collapsed.
Standing behind him, gun still smoking, was Major Aryan Sen.
Alive.
The Truth in the Shadows
Aarav could barely believe his eyes. "M-Major?"
Aryan smirked. "Did you really think I'd go down that easily?"
Aarav exhaled in relief. "I saw you get shot. How—?"
"No time for explanations," Aryan interrupted, grabbing his shoulder. "We need to move."
The second masked man groaned, trying to rise. Aryan knocked him out with the butt of his gun.
"They'll send more," Aryan said. "Operation Ashwamedh won't stop until they erase every trace of Netaji's truth."
Aarav swallowed hard. "Then we need to fight back."
Aryan nodded. "First, let's get Meera. Then, we plan our next move."
The storm above finally broke, rain pouring down in thick sheets. The real battle had just begun.