Inside a crumbling old building, the room stank of blood and despair. A woman sat hostage, her mouth bound tightly with cloth. Her eyes darted between her bleeding father collapsed on the floor and her mother tied to a chair, helpless and sobbing.
Riya, once filled with fire and stubborn pride, now sat in crushing silence her heart heavy with regret. This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
But amidst the chaos, her gaze locked onto someone unexpected.
Dev Kollari blood dripping from a fresh head wound, his stance battered but unyielding. The boy she argued with endlessly, the one she never trusted, now stood alone… fighting to save her family.
Across the room, a grotesque figure oozing dark greenish blood its hand gripped around a brutal thorn club let out a shriek:
"HAIL QUEEN OF THORNS!"
Three other attackers surged toward Dev in sync. But Dev moved like a blur.
With pinpoint agility, he twisted past the first blow, driving his dagger clean into one enemy's chest, silencing them in a heartbeat. Before the others could react, he sliced through the leg of one, disabled the arm of the second, and flipped backward as the thorn club crashed into the ground where he'd just stood.
The air buzzed with tension.
Then—CRACK!
The thorn club slammed into Dev's side, throwing him across the room. Dust exploded into the air as he skidded to a stop, coughing, eyes dazed… and then—he stood again.
Wiping blood from his mouth, he grinned with raw defiance.
"Only this one left." His gaze locked on the last monstrous attacker.
Then he turned slightly, his voice sharpening.
"Next… it's you, Ajay Choudhary."
And with that, he tightened his grip on the dagger his body screaming with pain, but his spirit unshaken.
Ajay gripped the broken wine glass, pressing it near Riya's neck. His voice trembled as he stared at Dev, blood dripping from the gash on his forehead.
"M-Monster..." Ajay muttered, eyes wide in disbelief.
But clinging to his pride, he tried to push the glass further. As he moved—
Dev, still locked in combat with the club-wielding attacker, twisted mid-dodge and snapped his glare toward Ajay.
That glare cold, piercing, lethal.
Ajay's hand froze.
He staggered a step back, the wine glass trembling in his grip.
"Once again," Ajay shouted, desperate to mask his fear, "I thought you were just a chill dude. But how far will you go, Dev?! Why're you killing those guys without hesitation?! What if they're—"
SLAM.
Dev ducked under a brutal swing of the thorn club, using its momentum to vault over the attacker his voice slicing through the chaos:
"Still pretending they're innocent?"
He landed with a roll, narrowly avoiding another swing.
"Stop joking, Ajay. Ever since I learned these people exist there's no room for feelings. It's kill or be killed."
Dev's blade danced in his hand as he weaved between attacks. He kicked off the club mid-swing, attempting a finishing move—but the attacker shifted, forcing him to retreat with a skid.
Ajay glanced at Ranveer, still groaning, blood soaking his shirt.
He laughed bitterly.
"So, as the murderer who killed the Commissioner's butler, you really care this much, huh?"
Then he leaned toward Riya and tried to lick her cheek.
THWACK.
A piece of wood from the broken ceiling cracked across Ajay's head.
Dev stood tall again, blood trailing from his mouth but smiling.
"Yeah. It all matters. Every damn thing."
His tone sharpened.
"Those 13 assassination attempts on Riya? The ones nobody even knew about?"
He raised his hand, showing a faint scar across his palm.
"I stopped all of them. Myself."
Ranveer and Riya's eyes widened in pure disbelief.
Dev's voice dropped into a cold growl.
"You think this is new? Ajay, you're just a recent puppet of that stupid council. You should be grateful I'm giving you a quick death."
He stepped forward.
"But if I find out you had a hand in those 13 attempts..."
He tilted his head.
"Then I won't kill you quick. I'll take... my... time."
CRACK!
The thorn club slammed into Dev's side, sending him flying.
He hit the floor hard, coughing blood. For a moment, the world blurred.
Then A flash of memory.
A younger Dev, hiding under a desk.
Outside, the dead silence of his home.
The window shattered.
Footsteps.
Then a tall man entered, a curved dagger in his hand dark, ominous.
He knelt by the desk and whispered:
"Yo, little brat. Is your name Dev Kollari?"
Little Dev, still hidden beneath the desk, peeked through a crack as the strange man walked into the room, dagger gleaming in his hand.
Suddenly, a Molotov cocktail was hurled through the broken window.
Before Dev could scream, the man calmly caught it mid-air and with a swift motion hurled it back out the window.
It exploded in the distance with a burst of flames and screams.
The man turned back to Dev, crouching.
He put a finger to his lips.
"Shh... don't worry. Your mother sent me here. And—try to make a little noise next time, okay?"
Then, with a wink, he leapt out the window into the chaos.
Dev heard more screams—this time, from the attackers.
Moments later, the man jumped back inside, brushing off glass and blood.
Dev, trembling, asked,
"Who... who are you?"
The man chuckled.
"I go by many names. But before I tell you mine—be honest, kid. Do I look scary or cruel to you?"
Dev stared at him. Despite the blood, the dagger, and the chaos—he shook his head.
"No. You look... kind."
The man let out a laugh—soft, amused.
"Heh. Kind, huh? You're the first person to say that in years."
He stood tall, placing a hand on his chest.
"My name is Es—"
CRACK!
Thunder ripped through the sky, loud and sudden.
Dev yelped and instinctively hugged the man's leg. The man looked down, surprised, then laughed heartily.
"Don't tell me you're scared of thunder too—just like my godchild."
Dev sniffled and looked up.
"What's the name of your godchild?"
With a soft smile, the man answered:
"Her name is Ana.."
Before the moment could last, a blade flashed through the window.
SLASH!
The man twisted, his dagger cutting down the attacker in one clean motion.
Dev stared in shock.
"Who are they?! Why are they trying to hurt me?!"
The man stepped toward another window, peering out.
"Someone trustworthy just showed up… but trust me, kid getting involved with these people is a headache."
He turned back, flicking the blood from his dagger.
"I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you later. Or maybe never."
The doorbell rang downstairs, echoing eerily through the house.
Dev reached out with desperation.
"Wait, mister! My mom always said… after your parents, the one who guides you is your teacher."
He swallowed hard.
"Please... be my teacher."
A woman's voice rang from outside the door:
"Tarun, break this door now!"
The man looked down at Dev for a moment, deeply moved. Then he smiled this time with something heavier in his eyes.
"Okay, my one and only student."
He reached into his coat, pulled out a dagger, and handed it to Dev. The hilt glowed faintly with the spear symbol.
Dev held it tightly as the door cracked open.
The man vanished like a shadow.
The door burst wide.
A woman rushed in and embraced Dev tightly, tears in her eyes.
"Dev... you're safe..."
Behind her stood Tarun Ayaan's older brother.
Dev looked over her shoulder, dagger hidden under his shirt, heart pounding.
Later That Day
A woman pushed through the broken door, her heart pounding with fear.
She rushed inside, eyes searching frantically for her son. But he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her gaze fell on a message scrawled across the mirror:
"If you come back, come to my home."
Her breath hitched. She recognized the handwriting instantly. Without hesitation, she ran.
Moments later, she arrived at the doorstep of a familiar house. Inside, she saw her little boy Dev playing with little Ayaan.
A woman turned to her and gasped.
"Padma, finally you're here!"
Dev looked up and ran to her, hugging her tightly around the legs.
Padma knelt, hugging him back, whispering,
"Sorry... sorry... sorry..."
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Then, standing and wiping her eyes, she turned to the other woman.
"Tanvi... we both know we're like oil and water—never meant to mix. But you still protected my son. So I will—"
Tanvi gave a worried smile and cut her off gently.
"It's okay, Padma. You don't have to say it."
Dev watched silently, wondering to himself:
"What's the relationship between my mom and Ayaan's mom…?"
---
That Night
Lying in bed, Dev turned to his mother.
"Mom… can you call him again? I want to talk to him."
Padma blinked.
"Who?"
Dev held up the dagger the one with the spear symbol.
Padma froze, eyes wide.
"The holder of this dagger... he really came here?"
Dev nodded.
"Yeah. He said you called him."
Padma, still in disbelief, whispered,
"No… I never called him. But why would the Founder of the Spear personally come… for the son of a normal soldier of Code Mog...?"
Dev added,
"Also, I asked him to be my teacher…"
She stared at the dagger.
"What did he say…?"
---
A young Dev training with the dagger d
Faced off against his teacher in a fast, intense sparring match.
He was knocked down again. The man stood over him, amused.
"I told you, Dev. You should've listened to your mother instead of following me."
Flat on his back, staring at the sky, Dev grinned through the pain.
"You already know I never listen to my mom. Besides, remember our bet? If I beat you, you tell me the secret behind the spear symbol."
The man smiled but gave no reply.
Next Day
Tears streamed down Dev's face as he stood in front of the man one last time.
"Why are you crying, teacher?"
The man replied softly,
"It's time for me to go. No more return. This is my final lesson."
He knelt beside Dev.
"Someday... for someone... you'll understand. When that day comes, follow your heart—but let your mind guide it. On that day, no turning back. No regrets."
Then, with a sudden strike to Dev's stomach, he knocked the boy unconscious and disappeared.
Dev had searched for him ever since. Even as a teenager, he begged his mother for answers but always came up empty.
Two weeks ago in a Phone Call
"General Rathore," Dev said over the line, "what do you mean there might be an assassin after Riya? Why?"
Rathore's voice was calm but heavy.
"Two reasons. One because of your mother, Padma. And two because President Aditya gave me orders to assign you a gun... marked with the spear symbol."
Dev froze, heart thudding.
"Teacher..."
Atop the Building
Ayaan shouted:
"Dev Kollari! I'll handle myself. Take care of Riya!"
---
A blow struck Dev's stomach, sending him sprawling. But he rose just like his teacher once knocked him down.
Silent. Focused.
Then he screamed, a primal release of fury and will.
Ajay stepped back in fear.
Dev gripped his dagger. Bloodied but determined, he moved forward. With a flash of speed, he cleaved the thorned club in half—then in one clean strike, slashed the enemy's throat.
Ajay screamed.
"M-Monster...!"
Dev turned toward him slowly, drenched in blood, eyes burning.
Ajay backed away, voice trembling.
Dev said nothing.
Ajay dropped the broken glass and released Riya. He turned to run.
Dev caught Riya, wiping her tears gently, then removed his shirt to cover her torn clothes.
Smiling weakly, he collapsed onto her.
From the communicator, a voice shouted:
"Communication is back! Dev, where are you?!"
Riya held him close, sobbing.
Dev, ever the same arrogant voice, croaked:
"Ugh... so loud... stop yelling in my ear, Mom. And why are you crying like a damn taperecorder...?"
Latha, watching from nearby, whispered with awe:
"Padma... your son is truly incredible."
Ranveer, bleeding, murmured in shame:
"I'm sorry… for doubting you and your son..."
As Dev drifted into unconsciousness, his hand brushed the blood away from the spear symbol on his dagger.
His lips moved faintly.
"Thanks… for guiding me to this point… Teacher."