The hallway felt colder now.
Samruddhi's hands still trembled from Arpan's words—"I killed Rivan's right-hand man." It echoed like a bell toll across the hollow of her chest.
She stared into his eyes—those familiar eyes that once looked at her like she was sunrise after years of darkness. But now, there was no morning in them.
Only night.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice barely holding.
Arpan looked away. "Because if you knew... you'd try to stop me."
She stepped forward. "And you think I wouldn't want to?"
"I don't need your forgiveness, Samru." His voice dropped to a low rumble. "I need vengeance."
Her lips quivered. "You said you'd never go back to that life."
"I lied."
She slapped him.
The sound cracked through the hallway, like thunder against silence.
His face turned slightly from the force, but he didn't react. No anger. No regret. Just cold acceptance.
She lowered her hand, breathing heavily. "I loved you. I love you. But I don't recognize the man standing in front of me."
He finally looked at her again.
"I don't recognize myself either."
That night, Samruddhi sat in her room, staring at her diary. Pages of their memories flipped by like ghosts—school dances, old texts, his jacket around her shoulders in the rain.
She pressed her pen to a blank page.
"What do you do when the man you love becomes the thing he hates?"
A knock shattered the silence.
Her mother, Rohini Ma'am, entered, holding a worn envelope. "This came for you. No return address."
Samruddhi took it slowly, her name scrawled across the front in ink that bled at the edges.
She opened it.
Inside was a photo.
A surveillance image. Grainy, but unmistakable.
Arpan.
Vikram.
A warehouse.
And above them, scrawled in red marker:
"You're not the only one being watched."
She gasped.
Another paper fell out from the envelope.
A list of names.
All crossed out.
Except one.
Samruddhi Sharma.
Across the city, Arpan was in the warehouse.
The air reeked of oil and rage.
Vikram tossed him a burner phone. "We got movement. Rivan's men are regrouping at the old mill."
Arpan slid a knife into his boot. "We hit them tonight."
"You sure? We don't even know if he's there."
"He's close. I can feel it."
Vikram paused. "You sure this is about him… and not her?"
Arpan's hand froze mid-motion.
Then tightened.
"She's the only reason I'm still doing this."
"And what if she doesn't wait for you?"
He didn't respond.
Just turned and walked into the shadows.
Midnight.
The old mill.
A rusted carcass of a factory swallowed by weeds and silence.
Arpan crouched behind a stack of barrels, watching the guards from a distance.
They looked like dealers. But they moved with too much precision. Ex-military? Mercenaries?
"Too organized for street dogs," he muttered.
Vikram clicked his earpiece. "You sure this is worth it?"
"I'm not here for the foot soldiers."
"Then who?"
Arpan stared at the second floor of the mill.
A faint light flickered in one window.
There.
He slid into the darkness, quiet as a ghost.
Inside, the corridors were narrow and broken.
Creaks echoed with every step.
He reached the staircase.
Moved upward.
And paused.
There it was.
The sound of humming.
Familiar.
Childish.
Mocking.
Arpan's blood ran cold.
He stepped forward.
The door creaked open.
And there he was.
Rivan.
Alive. Smiling.
Sitting at a table, folding paper cranes.
"Well, well. The prodigal killer returns."
Arpan didn't flinch. "You should be dead."
"Funny. I was going to say the same about you."
Without hesitation, Arpan lunged forward.
But the room exploded in blinding light.
Dozens of lasers lit up, forming a grid around him.
He froze.
"You move," Rivan grinned, "you die."
He leaned back in his chair. "I'm not here to fight you, Arpan. Not yet."
"Then what?"
Rivan stood and walked slowly to the edge of the grid. "To give you a choice. Like you gave me."
Arpan's jaw tightened. "You killed innocent people. You played with her mind."
"She let me in," Rivan replied, his tone suddenly soft. "She invited me into the cracks you left behind."
Arpan didn't speak.
So Rivan continued.
"Do you know what it feels like to be the shadow behind someone's perfect light? I was always behind you. Behind her smile. Behind her pain. And now, I want you to feel what it's like… to be erased."
He held up a small remote.
Pressed a button.
A wall screen lit up.
Samruddhi.
Blindfolded. Tied to a chair.
A timecode beneath her image.
00:19:53
"You son of a—"
"Don't worry," Rivan smiled. "I'm giving you a chance to save her."
Arpan's heart slammed in his chest. "What do you want?"
Rivan leaned in.
"I want you to disappear. Leave the city. Leave her. Tonight. Alone. And I'll let her go."
Arpan's eyes burned.
"And if I don't?"
Rivan's voice turned to ice.
"Then I blow up the school auditorium. At exactly 7:00 PM tomorrow. During the annual parent-student meet. You know, the one Rohini Ma'am is hosting."
Arpan's soul froze.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Rivan tossed a USB drive onto the table. "Here's the blueprint. Explosives. Timers. Positions. You have till dawn to decide."
He stepped back.
"Kill me now… and you kill everyone. Leave quietly… and I'll spare them."
The screen flickered.
Samruddhi stirred.
She looked directly into the camera.
Whispered something Arpan couldn't hear.
But he read her lips again.
"Fight him."
The lasers shut off.
Rivan stepped into the shadows.
"See you at 7:00, Ghost."
Dawn.
Arpan stood on the edge of the old bridge, overlooking the river.
In his hand: the USB drive.
In his heart: chaos.
He had two options.
Disappear.
Or stay and risk hundreds of lives.
He whispered her name. "Samru…"
Then he threw the USB into the river.
"Time to end this."
The Next Day – 6:43 PM
Samruddhi stood on stage, microphone in hand.
She didn't know where he was.
Didn't know if he'd come.
The auditorium was packed. Parents. Teachers. Students. Laughter.
But all she could feel was dread.
Rivan's note still haunted her:
"Tonight, everyone sees what it costs to love a ghost."
She looked toward the door.
No Arpan.
6:52 PM
Arpan stood outside the building.
Clad in black.
Earpiece in. Gun in pocket.
His voice whispered into Vikram's mic. "Tell me the placements."
Vikram responded, "Four explosives. Balcony. Stage. Main entrance. Control booth. All armed."
"Disable the booth first. I'll handle the rest."
6:58 PM
Samruddhi felt it.
The shift in air.
The cold chill of fate.
She took a deep breath, stepped forward.
But before she could speak—
The lights flickered.
Then dimmed.
Screams.
The screen behind her suddenly flashed.
A timer.
00:02:00
The crowd panicked.
Students rushed.
Teachers yelled.
But above it all—
A voice echoed.
Rivan's.
"Welcome to the grand finale."
"One of you will burn."
Then, from the balcony—
Gunfire.
Chaos.
Smoke.
And from the haze—
Arpan.
Charging down the aisle. Bloodied. Eyes wild.
He reached the stage.
Grabbed her.
"We're going. NOW!"
She clung to him, heart pounding.
"Arpan—how—?"
"No time."
00:00:47
They reached the side door.
Blocked.
Rivan stood there.
Gun in hand.
"Leaving so soon?"
Arpan stepped in front of her.
"Let her go."
Rivan smiled.
"She's free to go."
He turned the gun toward himself.
And whispered:
"But I'm not."
Bang.
The shot echoed like thunder.
Arpan screamed, lunging forward—
But Rivan dropped.
Dead.
The countdown stopped.
Frozen at 00:00:01
Silence.
Then—sirens in the distance.
Arpan fell to his knees beside Rivan's body.
Samruddhi joined him, eyes wide.
"He killed himself…"
"No," Arpan whispered. "He surrendered. On his own terms."
She stared at Arpan, then at the paused screen.
"Why did it stop?"
Arpan didn't answer.
Because behind Rivan's body—
He noticed something.
A blinking light.
Still armed.
Still live.
A second timer. Hidden.
00:00:20
To Be Continued…