After a long silence, General Rahman narrowed his eyes.
"If everything you've said is true… what's your next move?
Why does this man want to meet you?"
Athavan smiled—cunning, effortless.
"Because I've shaken the very foundation of their empire.
Do you know how Naraka operates, old man?
They fund all criminal activity—smuggling, extortion, trafficking—and they run a private black money bank."
He leaned back slightly.
"But here's the catch.
No crime… no profit.
And when I dismantled their underworld systems in this country, I didn't just hit their muscle—I cut off their cashflow."
"To them, maybe one country isn't a big deal.
But if others follow?
If every nation begins their own cleanup—using our strategy—then what happens?"
His voice grew cold.
"A hundred years of criminal infrastructure… flushed down the drain."
"So they want to neutralize me.
Control me.
Silence me."
Then, with perfect stillness:
"Tell me, Old man…
Do you believe in supernatural forces?"
The question caught Rahman off guard.
"Supernatural? Why ask that now?"
After a moment's thought, he answered carefully.
"Would it surprise you if I said yes?
We have an entire division for such phenomena.
Department X—dedicated to occult cases and anomalies. Do you need their help?"
Athavan shook his head slowly.
"The one sends by Naraka here now—goes by the name Chanda.
He's not just a gang leader.
He's a black magician. A master of hypnosis.
A dark practitioner operating on a level far beyond your surveillance."
"He's already taken control of the Garuda gang.
He's laying shadows across this country in search of me."
Athavan's tone turned steel.
"My next mission is to break Chanda—completely.
To rip out Naraka's eyes from this land.
And for that… I need one more thing from you."
Rahman leaned forward.
"What do you need?"
"An official identity," Athavan said.
"Hire me.
Appoint me as a special agent—with complete authority to eradicate Naraka's influence.
In exchange, I will make this country safer… and contribute toward its long-term development."
The café was silent again.
Rahman folded his arms, thinking. Then his eyes gleamed—wolfish.
"I know…
One of the reasons the DLA rose so fast in the last five years is because of Viswakarma, right?
The world's greatest scientist…
He's been developing your weapon tech."
He squinted at Athavan.
"Is he now the General of Knowledge and Research?
Can you share that technology with Walaysia? No—contribute it?"
Athavan laughed—light but dangerous.
"Old man… my grandfather was right.
You are a wolf."
Then his smile deepened.
"But you've made one miscalculation."
A pause.
"Yes—Viswakarma revolutionized our advancement.
But he's not one of our generals."
He looked Rahman square in the eye.
"I am Viswakarma."
"It's one of my many identities.
And when I said I'd contribute toward this country's safety…
I meant including my weapons and technology."
Rahman blinked. Once.
Then again.
Kathirvan sat still, mouth slightly open.
Because this—this—was a bigger revelation than even the title "Commander of the DLA."
Any country in the world would beg for Viswakarma.
If word ever got out…
If even a rumor spread that he had aligned with Walaysia?
Every superpower would aim their guns—not to kill… but to kidnap him.
...................
Later that morning...
Athavan was behind the wheel, cruising through the heart of Metrospore. His father sat in the passenger seat, silent—but not still.
Kathirvan kept glancing at him.
Athavan noticed.
"Yes, Appa? You want to say something?"
Kathirvan shook his head, then smiled—softly, meaningfully.
"When you first arrived here… you were like stone. No emotion.
I knew your mother's death must've hit you harder than you let on.
That's why I insisted on marriage. I thought… maybe it could pull you out of the shadows you were hiding in."
He looked out the window briefly, then back at his son.
"When your grandmother consulted your grandfather about the wedding…
He suggested a girl from that family."
"I thought it was another DLA mission. Just another tactical alliance.
I was scared.
Scared that even your marriage had an agenda."
He chuckled softly to himself.
"Turns out… I was paranoid for nothing."
Athavan blinked in surprise.
"It was Tata who chose her?
Then maybe… maybe he knew about Dhiviya all along."
Kathirvan turned, now curious.
"Dhiviya? What about her?"
Athavan smiled gently—eyes distant, voice soft.
"She was Amma's choice.
She wanted to match me with her for years.
I kept refusing to come to Walaysia… said I was too busy.
Maybe Amma wanted to use the marriage as a reason… to see you again."
There was a pause.
"I'm sorry, Appa.
If I'd listened to her…
Maybe she would've reconnected with you."
"She died because I was careless.
That's why I couldn't forgive myself.
Why I became… the thing I was before."
"I couldn't even be myself around you.
Because I carried the guilt."
"Amma kept saying she wanted to come back here.
I kept postponing.
Until it was too late."
A single tear slipped from Athavan's eye.
He wiped it quickly, but Kathirvan saw.
He placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Don't blame yourself, son."
His voice cracked slightly—more than age, it was regret.
"If anyone should be blamed… it's me.
The choices I made drove her away.
Maybe… it was fate that we never reunited."
"But I have you now.
And yes… knowing you've chosen a path as dangerous as ours…
It tightens my chest."
"But I'm proud of you, Athava.
Your mother raised you well."
He smiled, eyes glinting.
"Tell me more.
About you.
We never really had a chance to speak."
"I didn't want to pry. I was afraid… afraid I'd scare you away."
He leaned back into his seat, voice lightening.
"How's your wife?
Are things smooth with the in-laws?
After the news broke about her relatives, I wanted to keep a close eye on their safety.
But your men—your guards—have done a damn good job.
I figured you must've brought DLA operatives here."
"So I stayed out of it.
Let you move as you wanted.
And damn, Athava… you stunned me."
"Taking down Gang Nagas?
Then launching the Dharma Foundation?"
He let out a laugh of disbelief.
"Honestly, it feels like you've surpassed both me and your mother combined."
"And when I heard the old man had summoned you?
I dropped everything. I knew sparks were coming."
For the first time, Kathirvan talked without restraint—without fear of missteps or silence. For the first time, he sounded like a father who could finally breathe.
And for the first time…
Athavan just listened.
Smiling quietly.
Letting his father speak.
Letting the boy inside him be seen.