Somewhere. Sometime. Blinking. Smoke.
Samruddhi's lungs burned.
She coughed—choked—crawling through a haze of ash and plaster dust. The smell of blood and burning wood clung to her skin like guilt.
Her ears rang. Screamed. A high-pitched whine like grief had swallowed sound itself.
"Arpan," she rasped. "Arpan—"
No answer.
Her hands bled as she pulled herself forward, over shattered tiles and broken glass. The house was gone. Nothing but fire and ruin.
Through the haze, she saw movement.
A figure dragging itself toward her.
Her vision blurred.
"Arpan...?"
It was him.
Face burned. Jacket ripped. One eye swollen shut.
But alive.
Barely.
He collapsed beside her. "You... okay?"
She wanted to laugh. Or cry.
Instead, she gripped his hand.
"We're alive."
His hand trembled in hers.
"Not for long... if we don't move."
Two Hours Later – Hidden Garage, Dadar
Vikram slammed a crowbar onto a rusted lock and pulled open a secret hatch beneath an abandoned garage. Below was an old resistance hideout Arpan's father once used during covert operations.
Samruddhi collapsed onto a mattress.
Arpan knelt beside her, cleaning the blood from her cheek.
"You shouldn't have been there," he whispered.
"You think I regret it?" she shot back.
He looked away.
She grabbed his face gently. "I'm not afraid of pain, Arpan. I'm afraid of dying without knowing the truth."
He closed his eyes. "Then you'll get it. Even if it kills me."
Elsewhere – Vasundhara's Base
She stood before a digital wall.
Surveillance feeds from across the city flickered like a thousand blinking lies.
Her lieutenant entered.
"We lost them. No bodies."
Vasundhara didn't react.
She turned to a locked cabinet and opened it.
Inside was a small black box. Velvet.
She opened it slowly.
Inside—
A photo.
Arpan.
Samruddhi.
And a baby.
Vasundhara stared at it for a long time.
Then said, "He still doesn't know, does he?"
Her voice cracked. For the first time, her mask slipped.
"None of them know."
Later That Day – Resistance Hideout
Arpan rummaged through an old metal locker.
Files. Journals. Maps.
He pulled out a sealed envelope. On the front, in scrawled handwriting:To my son. When it's time. – Dad
He hesitated.
Then opened it.
A photograph.
Him, as a child. And next to him—a man. But not his father.
He turned the photo over.
"Trust is a fragile weapon. Don't let her use it against you."
—Dhiren Khurana
Samruddhi froze.
"My father wrote that."
They looked at each other.
Arpan whispered, "Why would your father leave me a message?"
Flashback – 16 Years Ago
A small child—Arpan—sat crying in a hospital corridor.
A man knelt beside him.
Dhiren Khurana.
He wrapped a shawl around the boy and said gently,
"One day, when everything burns down, follow the truth. Even if it looks like a lie."
The boy sniffled.
The man smiled.
"And when you meet a girl with fire in her eyes, protect her. She's your way home."
Present
Samruddhi clutched the letter, her voice shaking.
"Our fathers knew each other."
Arpan nodded slowly.
"This goes deeper than I ever imagined."
Vikram appeared, phone in hand. "You'll want to see this."
He played a video clip that had gone viral.
A drone recording of their house exploding.
News channels were calling them terrorists. Criminals. "Domestic threats."
Samruddhi stared at the screen in disbelief.
"We're being framed?"
"They're rewriting the story," Arpan said. "Like they always do."
Her heart thundered in her chest.
"If we don't speak our truth soon… no one will believe we even existed."
Elsewhere – A Secret Room Lit by Candlelight
Vasundhara knelt before an altar of photographs.
Men. Women. All people who had "disappeared" over the years.
She added one more photo.
Samruddhi Khurana.
She placed a red dot on the forehead in the photo.
Then whispered:
"Blood always pays its debt."
Behind her, a girl stepped into the light.
Seventeen. Fragile-looking. Cold eyes.
Vasundhara smiled.
"Come, my dear. It's time you met your sister."
Back at the Hideout – Samruddhi's Breakdown
She clutched her father's photo.
"I keep thinking—what if I had known? What if I had asked more questions when I was ten? What if I had listened instead of pretending everything was fine?"
Arpan sat beside her. Quiet.
She turned to him. Tears welling.
"I don't know who I am anymore."
He whispered, "You're the girl who walked into fire and dared to survive."
She buried her face into his chest.
"I'm so tired, Arpan. I just want to be free."
He pulled her close. "Then let's finish this."
Later That Night – The Truth Rebellion Begins
Arpan and Vikram uploaded all the files their fathers had collected over the years.
Codenames. Coordinates. Dirty names in clean suits.
They created a digital dead man's switch.
If anything happened to them, the information would go public.
They hit SEND.
– Rooftop, 2 AM
Samruddhi stepped out for air.
Moonlight touched her skin.
She closed her eyes.
Then heard a whisper behind her.
"He lied to you."
She turned—
A girl stood in the shadows.
Same eyes. Same lips.
Almost like a mirror.
Samruddhi froze.
"…Who are you?"
The girl stepped forward.
Smiling.
"I'm the daughter your father never told you about."
Samruddhi's breath caught.
"What...?"
The girl tilted her head.
"I'm your sister."
"And I've come to kill you."
To Be Continued…