Chapter Eight: The Raid on the Gym
The rain had turned into a storm by the time Vikram and Rohan reached Desai's Gym.
The heavy steel shutter was torn open, bent outward as if hit by a truck. Inside, the lights were dead. The concrete floor and the boxing ring were covered in a thick layer of white frost, the temperature inside the room freezing.
"Desai!" Vikram shouted, running inside.
The gym was in ruins. The punching bags were torn open, their sand scattered on the icy floor. The wooden benches were smashed to pieces.
Mr. Desai was gone.
In the center of the boxing ring, written in thick, glistening ice on the canvas, was a single message:
**THE GATEWAY.**
"Vikram," Rohan called out from the corner. He was kneeling beside a figure slumped against the wall.
It was one of Rohan's father's gang members, his body shivering violently, his skin covered in a blue tint.
"They... they came from the shadows," the man rasped, his teeth chattering. "Javed... he had the old man. Desai didn't even fight back. He told Javed, 'It's time.' Javed took him to the docks... no, the Gateway tunnels."
"Why did Desai say that?" Vikram asked, his chest cold. "Why did he say 'It's time'?"
"Desai was one of them," the dying man whispered, his eyes closing. "Years ago... he was a founder of the Vow. He left... but they never let you go. The Grid... they turned it on, kid. The first phase is active. South Mumbai is going dark."
The man's head fell forward, his breathing stopping as the cold took him.
Vikram stood up, his jaw set. The blue sparks of his Prana flared around his knuckles, melting the frost on the floor around his boots.
"They have Desai," Rohan said, his voice shaking with anger. "And they are going to use him to stabilize the Core. Vikram, if the Grid goes full power, the whole city is dead."
"We're going to the Taj," Vikram said. "Rahul has the tools. Rhea is safe in Dharavi. We're going to shut this transmitter down, or we're going to die trying."
He looked at the ice writing on the ring canvas.
The crescent moon and dagger symbol was already beginning to melt, turning into a pool of cold, dark water. The final round had begun.