Swindon, England – Morning at the Verma Residence
The early sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Verma household, casting golden patterns on the marbled floors. Kiaan walked out of his room slowly, wearing a loose white t-shirt and track pants, rubbing his still-heavy eyes from a restless night. His mind was still lingering on last night's nightmares—memories, not dreams—and on the face he had never seen, yet always felt: Rex.As he descended the staircase, voices drifted up from the living room. Laughter. Mockery. Chatter. His stepbrother Shaurya's tone was loud, boastful, as always."I mean, did you read about it?" Shaurya laughed, his voice thick with arrogance. "Four cadets killed by some psycho freak. Good that the CBI caught him, but seriously—what were those kids doing that they didn't even realise someone was behind them? Cowards."His friends laughed — except for one girl, who noticed Kiaan the moment he stepped onto the last stair.
"There he is," she whispered, nudging her friend.Kiaan's tall frame and quiet, unreadable expression made the room pause for a split second. His disheveled hair, sculpted jawline, and sharp eyes gave him the quiet charm that Shaurya and his gang could never compete with. Even in silence, Kiaan's presence was louder than Shaurya's constant barking."Morning," said the girl, a bit too sweetly.Shaurya noticed it. His jaw tightened, irritation flaring in his chest.
"Oh look who's finally awake," Shaurya spat, crossing his arms. "Roaming the streets all night, yeah? Hanging with your so-called friends? Must be some serious 'party'again, huh?" he sneered.Kiaan didn't flinch. He just walked past them toward the kitchen, expression unreadable."I heard even the CBI couldn't catch that psycho killer for weeks," one of the boys said, trying to act cool. "Whoever did catch him must be a legend."
Kiaan grabbed a glass of water without turning.Shaurya scoffed. "Please. Probably just got lucky. Or made up the whole story to get attention. You know how dramatic these agents are."Kiaan finally turned his head, slowly."The dead don't care about drama," he said flatly, sipping the water. His tone was chillingly calm.That silenced the room for a second.The girl smirked. "He's got a point, Shaurya."Before Shaurya could snap back, Nandita walked in — poised in her crisp saree, eyes already sharp and judgmental. Her presence turned the air colder."What is this nonsense early in the morning?" she barked. Then her eyes found Kiaan — and sharpened. "You! Already ruining the atmosphere again."Kiaan stood still. Calm. He didn't speak."You walk around this house like you own it," she said, voice rising. "Do you even have a job? Or are you still wasting your father's money by roaming around?"
Shaurya chuckled behind her, arms crossed smugly.Kiaan said nothing. Not because he couldn't. Because he wouldn't. Let them believe what they wanted. Let them think he was a jobless, directionless young man. That illusion protected his identity — the identity of Agent Kiaan Verma, the one who hunted monsters behind the curtains while these people judged shadows."I asked you something!" Nandita snapped.Kiaan slowly set the glass down. His eyes met hers — unreadable again."I didn't ask you to believe in me," he said, voice calm but edged with steel. "And I never will."Nandita's face tightened.But before the venom could spill again, Kiaan had already turned and walked out through the backdoor, sunlight catching on the mark beneath his sleeve — the one only he could see. The one that reminded him of battles fought in the dark.Because while Shaurya chased validation and Nandita chased perfection, Kiaan hunted evil—and bore the scars of things they could never even imagine.