In a dimly lit hall, the sound of breaking vases and fists slamming on the table echoed like thunder. A little boy covered his ears tightly, trembling as a man's angry voice filled the room.
"Padma, I told you to resign from your job! You didn't listen to us. So now leave my home!"
Tears welled up in the eyes of the woman named Padma. Without arguing, she gently took the boy's hand.
"Dev, come with me."
The little boy, crying, shook his head. "No... I want both Mommy and Daddy."
Padma paused. Her voice was low and filled with pain. "Okay then... forget about me."
She turned and walked out, leaving the house and Dev behind.
Three days later, little Dev stood crying beside the lifeless body of his father.
On the nearby TV, breaking news blared: "The sudden outbreak of war marks the first major failure under President Aditya Rajan's rule. Many citizens are disappointed and awaiting a statement from Mr. Aditya Rajan."
As Dev stared blankly at the screen, Padma returned. She didn't offer words of comfort—just reached out and said softly, "It's time for you to leave."
At the crowded bus station, panic spread as news of the war caused chaos. A stampede broke out. In the confusion, Padma lost sight of Dev.
The boy fell, pushed and trampled by the crowd. Then a small hand reached out and grabbed his. Another, slightly bigger hand pulled him up from the ground.
Dev looked up. The small hand belonged to a boy about his own age. The bigger hand, strong and protective, seemed to come from an older sibling. Behind them, a younger child peeked out, hiding shyly.
The boy standing beside Dev smiled and introduced himself, "My name is Ayaan Ranade. That's my big bro, Tarun, and the little one hiding is Rohan. Let's go somewhere safer together."
Dev wiped his tears and nodded faintly. "Okay."
---
Little Dev followed Ayaan quietly. After everything, he didn't know where he was going, but Ayaan's warm smile gave him a sliver of comfort. They arrived at a small house, where a woman stood waiting at the door.
"Look, that's my mother—Tanvi!" Ayaan said with a cheerful voice.
But just as Dev stepped forward, he was suddenly pulled away by someone.
"Finally, there you are!" Padma's voice rang out as she grabbed Dev tightly.
With teary eyes, Dev looked back. "Mom... meet Ayaan and his brothers. They helped me during the stampede..."
Padma didn't respond. Her eyes narrowed, not at her son, but at the woman standing at the doorway. Without acknowledging the boys, she picked up Dev and turned away.
She muttered under her breath, "Just because of those kid's father no that man died. This war and the death of my husband..."
Her tone grew cold as she looked at her son. "Dev, never ever meet those kids again."
---
A few hours passed, and night slowly crept over the city. The atmosphere felt heavier than usual.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
Padma picked up quickly. "Latha? Don't worry, I'm coming."
She rushed over to Dev, her face tense and filled with concern.
"Please stay safe, okay? I need to step out for a while. If possible, I'll call someone to take care of you."
Dev nodded slowly. "Okay."
After his mother left, silence returned. Dev sat alone in the dimly lit room, hugging his knees. The shadows stretched longer, darker. A chill crept into his chest not from the cold, but from the sinking loneliness.
He walked toward the window, his breath trembling. Outside, he saw a group of men—some laughing cruelly, others lighting bottles filled with liquid and cloth.
Molotovs.
Dev gasped and dove under the table, curling up tightly. His thoughts spiraled into panic.
"I don't wanna be alone... I don't wanna be alone..." he whispered over and over, his voice cracking.
Suddenly—CRASH! The window shattered.
Dev's heart froze. Footsteps. A man stepped in through the broken window, a dagger glinting in his hand. His presence filled the room with menace.
The man grinned.
"Yo, little brat. Is your name Dev Kollari?"
----
Present Time
Atop a build sky, a man gripped his sniper rifle tightly, eyes locked onto the horizon. Wind swept across his jacket as he raised his voice through the static of the broken comms.
"Dev! Communication's not working. Please, go save Riya!"
Dev stood behind him, fists clenched, breath shaky. His eyes darted between the chaos unfolding below and the man standing before him.
"Ayaan... but—" Dev's hesitation trembled in his throat.
Ayaan Ranade turned his head just slightly, his voice calm and unwavering despite the distant explosions. "Dev Kollari. I'll handle myself. Please—go. Immediately. Save Riya."
Dev's mind flickered back to a night of smoke and broken glass, a dagger pointed at him, and the cruel voice of a man who'd once seemed like a monster, yet left a mark deeper than fear.
"You're just a little brat… One day you'll understand my words. If that day comes, follow your heart—but let your brain guide it. And whatever you choose, don't regret it."
A silence filled Dev's mind. Then his lips moved in a whisper.
"I think... my day has come, Teacher. That's why..."
He tightened the gauntlets on his arms, metal snapping into place as the HUD flickered alive. He looked at Ayaan his brother, his friend and nodded.
"Okay, Ayaan Ranade... I'm going to save Riya."
Without waiting for a reply, Dev sprinted toward the ledge of the building, launched his grappling cable, and dove into the chaos. The cable snapped taut, swinging him across shattered rooftops. Below, a dark truck raced through the battered streets Riya trapped inside.
And Dev chased it, not as the boy who once hid under a table but as the one who now refused to let anyone be alone.
----
Inside a backstage room at the venue, Anaya stood in front of the mirror, her palms damp with sweat. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted her mic, eyes darting toward the door with growing unease.
Sneha leaned casually against the wall, smirking. "Are you nervous because Ayaan's not here, or because it's your turn in the finals?"
Anaya turned toward her, eyes clouded. "Both, Sneha… but I'm also worried about Riya. This isn't like her. It feels like… like we've abandoned her."
Just then, a sharp knock echoed from the door. A voice from the other side firm and hurried.
"Miss Anaya, only five minutes left. It's your turn to sing."
Pooja stood and responded calmly, "Okay, we're coming." Then she turned to Anaya with a gentle nod. "No need to worry, Anaya. We'll get through this."
But Anaya's expression remained heavy. She turned toward the sky through a small window, her voice barely a whisper. "Where are you, Ayaan... and Riya? Please, God…"
---
Elsewhere, in a forgotten old building swallowed by shadow and rot, a man stirred on the ground. Pain rippled through his torso as the sounds of familiar crying voices reached his ears. His mind reeled, struggling to surface from unconsciousness.
The last thing he remembered: a sharp stab to his stomach and a short man's whisper
"Let's see how the Council of Six attacks… from the shadows."
His eyes snapped open.
Across the room, tied to a chair, was his wifeher face weary, bruised, helpless.
"Latha!" he shouted. "Why are you here?!"
A sudden crash. A bottle shattered over his head. Dizzy, he blinked through the blood and glass to see a familiar figure standing over him.
Ajay Choudhary, holding the broken bottle with twisted pride.
"Ah, Mr. Ranveer—the mighty city police commissioner… and father of Riya. Looks like you woke up at just the right time."
Ranveer blinked. His mind connected the voice. "It was you… You tried to blackmail me over the phone threatening my daughter's life."
Ajay's twisted grin widened. "Threatening? Oh no... I'm actually going to enjoy killing your daughter."
And with that, five masked men dragged Riya into the room her arms pinned, her hair yanked cruelly. She cried out as her mother sobbed in horror.
"Leave my daughter alone!" Ranveer roared, struggling against his restraints.
Ajay only laughed, his eyes full of malice. He gripped Riya's neck and, with the broken glass, stabbed her shoulder. Blood trickled down as Riya screamed, and Ajay… licked her tears.
The mother's cries filled the room. Ranveer's shouts turned hoarse. And Riya, overcome with pain and fear, trembled as Ajay leaned in.
"Right now, you are alone." Ajay whispered darkly. "No one's coming to save you."
He raised the broken glass to slash Riya's clothes when suddenly
BANG.
The door shattered open.
A voice rang out through the dust and silence.
"Nobody is alone."
All eyes turned.
There stood Dev his breath steady, his eyes aflame with purpose.
Ajay sneered. "Oh? Look at this dude. You're Dev, right? Last time, at that café… I heard your mother say, 'If I was there, my son would've taught you a lesson.' Well then… show me your capability."
Dev smiled—not with arrogance, but conviction. "Yeah… as the son of Padma, Commander-in-Chief of Bow."
He removed his gauntlets. Dust cleared from the metal, revealing the faded emblem of the Bow. Then, Dev unsheathed a dagger—its blade gleamed in the light, and the symbol of a spear shimmered across the hilt.
"No…" Dev continued, raising the weapon. "As the student of the Former Founder of Spear—"
The room stilled.
The five men holding Riya froze.
Ranveer's eyes widened as he remembered Padma's words from long ago "In Project M, no matter what… the holders of Spears are unpredictable."
A wave of relief surged through him.
Latha's tears paused her eyes locked on Dev. He was Padma's son. Her friend's son.
And Riya bruised, bleeding, and afraid looked up at the boy who always argued with her. For the first time, she didn't see a rival.
She saw someone she could trust.
And with quiet fury, Dev stepped forward.
"This Dev Kollari… will teach you an unforgettable lesson."