The briefing room was silent, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the space as both teams sat in tense anticipation. Orders had been clear: from this point onward, the two teams would operate as one unit, and a new leader would coordinate all missions.
Swayam sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room as the team adjusted their masks. Like his own team, every operative had their identity concealed—faces hidden behind sleek, opaque masks. Recognition was impossible… or so it seemed.
And then Swayam's gaze caught one figure. Something about the way this person moved, carried herself, the subtle tilt of the head—it triggered a strange familiarity deep in his mind. He couldn't place it. Not yet.
The figure stepped forward confidently, hand extended.
"Hello, Agent No. 2. How are you?"
Swayam froze. Shock surged through him. How could anyone know his codename, let alone recognize him while wearing a mask?
The figure smirked beneath the mask, just the faintest curve of lips visible, a teasing glint in her eyes.
Swayam's mind raced. Agent No. 1? Could it really be her? He whispered aloud, almost reflexively:
"Agent No. 1…?"
The figure chuckled softly, the sound confident, playful, yet edged with authority.
"Didn't you realize yet? Too slow for an agent, aren't you?" she teased, her tone laced with amusement.
Swayam's jaw tightened, a flicker of both surprise and respect crossing his features. This was someone not only skilled but confident enough to toy with him, even from behind a mask.
She turned to the room, her presence commanding attention. "From now on, all missions will be conducted under my leadership," she announced. Her voice was sharp, unwavering, yet carried a rhythm that demanded compliance. "We will also be relocating to a new base. I will send the address. Reach there by evening."
Without waiting for a response, Agent No. 1 turned and exited the room, moving with a fluid grace, her team following silently behind. The soft swish of fabric and quiet footsteps echoed briefly before fading into the hallways.
Swayam's team exchanged glances, the tension between them evident even without words.
They followed their routine, heading out to the van, masks still firmly in place. The drive back to their old base was quiet, each agent lost in thought. The familiar rhythm of their operations felt slightly disrupted, their focus shaken by the presence of this new leader.
Once the van stopped at a secluded area near their base, the team removed their masks. Faces relaxed, but expressions carried a mix of curiosity, unease, and subtle admiration.
"She… looks familiar," murmured Agent No. 4, studying the empty doorway they had just left.
"Yeah… I can't place it, but there's something about her," added Agent No. 9, tilting her head.
Swayam ran a hand along his jaw, mind racing. Why did her movements, her tone, feel so… familiar? He couldn't pinpoint it. Yet a small spark of curiosity and alertness ignited inside him. Agent No. 1 was more than just a leader—she was something different, something dangerous, and she already had an edge on him.
The team shared a brief, silent exchange. No words were necessary—each of them understood that this encounter had changed something. The masked authority figure had left a mark that wouldn't fade easily.
Swayam leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. Even behind a mask, Agent No. 1 had commanded attention, tested him, and left him unsettled. He realized, with a flicker of both irritation and intrigue, that this was just the beginning.
And deep in the back of his mind, one question burned brighter than the rest:
Who really is Agent No. 1… and why does she feel so familiar?
The van rolled to a stop in front of the new base, a sprawling complex nestled quietly among dense trees. Unlike the stark, utilitarian headquarters they were used to, this place felt… different. There was warmth in the lighting, soft hums of activity, and a faint aroma of brewed coffee and fresh wood that gave the building a welcoming feel—almost like home.
Swayam stepped out first, scanning the perimeter. His team followed silently, masks still in place, movements precise and controlled. Something about the environment unsettled him. He was used to bases that were cold, functional, and intimidating. This felt… human.
Before he could fully process it, members of Agent No. 1's team emerged from the entrance, stepping forward with genuine smiles and a warmth that seemed at odds with their lethal skills.
"Welcome!"said a tall, confident young man as he stepped forward. "I'm Agent No. 3, Arav. It's good to finally have you here."
"Purvi here—Agent No. 5," a cheerful woman added, bowing slightly, her tone friendly yet professional.
"Neha, Agent No. 7.Welcome to our home!" another voice chimed in, light and confident.
"Rohan, Agent No. 8. Don't worry—we'll make sure you settle in comfortably," added the last of them, hands relaxed at his sides.
Swayam's team exchanged glances, unused to such a warm reception. It felt strange—almost disarming. There was no tension, no stiff formality; yet, each smile and word carried a quiet confidence, a reminder that these were not ordinary people—they were as capable, lethal, and skilled as Swayam's own team, but far more… approachable.
The teams began to introduce themselves formally, a necessary protocol to establish trust and coordination.
Swayam's team went next:
"Agent No. 4, Sweety"—her calm composure mirrored her skill.
"Agent No. 9, Sanvi"—alert, perceptive, but not overbearing.
"Agent No. 6, Rahul"—tall, quiet, exuding controlled strength.
"Agent No. 10, Vicky"—lean, precise, and observant.
"Agent No. 2, Swayam"—standing slightly apart, cold and distant as always, scanning every movement of the new team.
And yet, despite all the introductions, there was one conspicuous absence: Agent No. 1.
Her team members smiled and welcomed them warmly, but Agent No. 1 was nowhere to be seen. Not a trace, not a shadow. Even her codename wasn't mentioned.
Swayam felt a flicker of unease. He was used to control, to knowing where everyone was, especially the leader. Yet here, she was absent, leaving her team to speak for her and the base to feel… welcoming instead of fortified.
"Strange," he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening slightly. The warmth of the base, the friendliness of the team—it felt almost like a trap, but his instincts told him otherwise. This was deliberate. Agent No. 1 wanted to unsettle him. To make him feel… off-balance.
As both teams finished introductions, Swayam's eyes swept the room. Each agent from Agent No. 1's team carried themselves with confidence, yet none revealed the true leader. It was a deliberate absence, a calculated move that stirred something he couldn't quite place.
He glanced at his own team—silent, composed, their eyes following his. They were analyzing the situation just as he was. A mix of curiosity, caution, and intrigue filled the van as they settled into the base, removing masks and starting to familiarize themselves with the surroundings.
Swayam's attention kept returning to the empty presence of Agent No. 1. Whoever she was, she had orchestrated this perfectly: a warm, almost home-like environment to welcome them, but with the leader remaining unseen, her authority unchallenged and her aura lingering in every corner.
And in that quiet, unassuming moment, Swayam realized one thing: the real game had only just begun.