WHO ARE YOU?

Back at The Lost Verse, her safehouse disguised as a run-down bookstore in old Vardhanapuram, Sathya stripped off her tactical gear piece by piece. The soft hum of the city beyond the barred windows felt like a lie—a lullaby sung over a land steeped in blood and betrayal.

The faint glow of her laptop cast shadows on the peeling wallpaper. She sat cross-legged on the floor, unzipping a small compartment in her gear bag. From it, she pulled out a weathered journal. Its pages were frayed, corners stained, a few words smeared with age and haste.

SREE RAJ Journal.

Her friend. Her mentor. The man who taught her how to pick locks and read lies in a man’s eyes before she ever learned to trust her own instincts. Brutally murdered six months ago in what the officials labeled a “gangland fallout.”

But Sathya knew better.

And tonight only confirmed it.

She flipped through the journal, stopping at a circled name.

Aryan Varma.

It hadn’t meant much at first—one among many mentioned in coded fragments and political tangents Sree raj had scribbled down during his investigations. But then came the patterns. Photos. Surveillance notes. Money trails.

And tonight—his appearance at the kill site of Aravind Roy. Minutes after the shot. Almost as if he was waiting for it.

Or worse… orchestrating it.

Sathya reached for her whiskey, the bottle she rarely touched unless her nerves screamed too loud. She took a slow sip, her jaw tense.

Chakra’s message flashed again.

> “Do not engage Aryan Varma again without clearance. Tier One.”

Tier One. That meant he was flagged by the higher-ups as someone untouchable. Protected. Or maybe… too powerful to provoke without consequence.

But Sathya wasn’t built to obey in silence.

She walked to the board mounted on her wall, covered in maps, newspaper clippings, strings connecting faces, aliases, and blurred crime scene photos. She pinned a new picture—tonight’s kill zone—and drew a fresh red thread from Aravind Roy’s name to Aryan Varma’s.

Then she hesitated… and connected Aryan to Serpent.

“Who are you really, Varma?” she muttered. “The heir in the shadows… or the puppeteer in plain sight?”

Meanwhile, far across the city in the glass tower known as Varma Holdings, Aryan Varma removed his gloves with clinical precision. He washed his hands slowly, the bloodied memory of Aravind Roy’s body still vivid in his mind. The man had been useful once—but he talked too much.

Aryan’s reflection stared back at him in the mirror. Calm. Controlled.

But his thoughts flickered back to the rooftop. To her.

Sathya.

She had been there. Watching him.

And unlike others who would have panicked or fled too early—she stayed. She wanted to understand. To study. That made her dangerous.

He smiled faintly, the memory of her eyes locking with his igniting something strange in his chest.

Curiosity.

She was like a shadow made flesh—silent, fierce, and full of questions he didn’t want to answer.

He dried his hands and walked to a private chamber, where an encrypted phone waited on a marble pedestal. He picked it up.

“Roy’s been neutralized,” he said simply.

The voice on the other end was mechanical, masked. “And the girl?”

“She’s aware,” Aryan replied. “More than we thought.”

A pause.

“Do you want her eliminated?”

Aryan’s eyes narrowed.

“No,” he said, almost too quickly. “Not yet.”

“She’s a risk.”

“She’s... interesting.”

He cut the call before they could reply.

Sathya’s face lingered in his mind again—like the whisper of a storm on the horizon.

One that might either destroy him.

Or unveil the truth he’d spent years burying.

The Next Morning

The newspapers lay sprawled across Sathya’s desk. Every headline was a lie. Nothing about Aravind Roy. Not even a missing report. A man who had served one of the state’s most influential ministers… vanished without a whisper.

Wiped clean.

She clenched her jaw, fingers tightening around her mug until the ceramic cracked slightly.

That’s when her phone buzzed.

SANGAMA-56.

Her eyes widened.

A summon.

Only elite operatives of Nyaya Yodha—the clandestine organization formed by former revolutionaries, scholars, spies, and outcasts—received SANGAMA codes. Tunnel 56 wasn’t just a meeting point. It was sacred ground. The hidden heart of justice beneath Vardhanapuram.

An Hour Later – The Underground Chamber

The heavy steel door hissed open, revealing a vast chamber lit by soft golden lights. Murals of forgotten heroes adorned the stone walls. Computers hummed beneath relics of war. The air was thick with secrets.

“Yoda-07. Report.”

Sathya stepped into the central circle. Around her, the council sat—hooded, faceless to the world, yet known across continents in whispers.

She bowed with respect, her voice steady despite the tension.

“I have information. Critical.”

The chamber quieted. All eyes on her.

She let the name fall like a thunderclap.

“Aryan Varma.”

The ripple was immediate.

Gasps. Murmurs. A shift in the air, like cold wind snaking through stone.

“What was he doing at West Fort?” one of them asked, voice laced with dread.

“He was there before the body went cold,” Sathya replied. “He covered it up with military precision.”

A woman leaned forward. “He shouldn’t have been on the radar this soon…”

Another voice, older, heavier: “He’s dangerous. A Varma never moves without reason.”

“He cannot be trusted,” one snapped.

But the eldest among them—the one they called Thiru, once a freedom fighter turned strategist—spoke softly, but his words cut deep.

“We can’t afford to lose him either.”

Sathya’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He’s working against the Serpent Gang,” Thiru said. “From within. And he has access we don’t.”

“But he’s ruthless,” Sathya shot back. “Unhinged. He almost executed Roy himself—”

“And we needed Roy gone.”

That silenced her.

“You have fire, Yoda-07,” Thiru said. “But sometimes to burn out a forest of snakes, you need a darker flame.”

Another elder added gravely, “Aryan Varma is not the hero. He’s the weapon.”

Sathya’s mind raced. Everything she believed about enemies and allies was beginning to blur.

She clenched her fists. “If he turns on us—”

“You won’t kill him,” Thiru said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ll control him.”

Sathya's heart pounded.

Control Aryan Varma?

Or be consumed by him?

Outside the chamber, as the steel doors sealed behind her, Sathya paused, her breath catching in her throat.

She had stepped into a war with no clear sides.

But one thing was certain—

Aryan Varma wasn’t her enemy.

He was her weapon.

And if she wasn’t careful…

He’d become her downfall.

... ❤️‍🔥To be continued......

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***