Rain fell softly over Jaipur, blurring the city's lights into streaks of gold and silver. The streets glistened beneath the drizzle, each drop bouncing off cobblestones that had seen a thousand stories. Lanterns swung gently outside old shops, their reflections scattering across the puddles like fallen stars.
In the middle of it all, Lucy walked alone — her dark coat pulled tight, hair sticking to her face, eyes lost somewhere far beyond the horizon. The city moved around her in silence. Only the rain spoke, whispering memories she had buried long ago.
The narrow road ahead curved toward a familiar sight — the rusted blue gates of Central Jaipur High School. The same gates she had crossed every day years ago. The same gates she had sworn never to return to.
She stopped under a flickering streetlamp. The soft light fell over her face, revealing the trace of exhaustion, the quiet grief that had settled beneath her eyes.
The rain thickened, washing the dust off the old signboard: Central Jaipur High — Knowledge is Freedom. The words felt cruelly ironic now.
Lucy's gaze lingered on the gates. Behind them lay everything she had lost — laughter, innocence, and the one person whose voice still haunted her dreams.
Sid.
His name rose unbidden in her mind. A faint smile tugged at her lips, quickly broken by the ache in her chest. She remembered the day they first met — a dull, hot afternoon in the chemistry lab, the smell of chalk and acetone in the air. She had been trying to fix a broken burette when Sid appeared beside her, sleeves rolled, hair messy, grinning like he carried the sun inside him.
> "Careful," he'd said, reaching out before the glass could shatter. "You've got more courage than coordination."
She'd laughed then — really laughed.
The memory replayed in her mind like an old film reel. Every detail was sharp: the chalk dust floating in sunlight, the teacher's scolding voice, the quiet exchange of smiles that had meant more than either of them had dared to admit.
The sound of thunder dragged her back to the present. The rain fell harder now, painting streaks down her glasses. Lucy stepped closer to the gate and pressed a palm against the cold iron bars.
Beyond them, the courtyard stretched wide and silent. Leaves swirled across cracked pavement. The old banyan tree stood tall, its branches heavy with rain. That was where Sid had waited for her after class, sometimes with tea, sometimes with nothing but a shy smile and endless stories.
She could almost hear him again — his laughter, soft and nervous, and that familiar line he always used whenever life went wrong:
> "Don't worry, Lucy. I've got this."
Her fingers tightened on the gate.
> "You didn't," she whispered. "You didn't have to."
The ache inside her grew heavier with every heartbeat. The school felt like a ghost town, and every corner of it whispered his name.
She remembered the day of their farewell function — the monsoon rain pouring down, her white uniform drenched, Sid chasing her across the courtyard with an umbrella that barely worked. They had taken shelter under the banyan tree, laughing through the storm. And then he had said it — quiet, certain, unguarded.
> "I like you, Lucy. I think I always have."
He hadn't asked for an answer. He hadn't needed one. The look in her eyes had been enough.
And then — the Agency came. The missions. The training. The endless nights that stripped away everything soft and human in her.
Sid had become a memory she never spoke of, buried beneath layers of duty and loss. Until now.
Lightning flashed across the sky, throwing the school into brief clarity. Lucy stepped back, the reflection of light glinting off her locket — the one Sid had given her on her seventeenth birthday. A tiny silver heart, slightly tarnished, but still unbroken.
Inside it, a photograph — the two of them at the school carnival, laughing as the wind tangled their hair. She had almost forgotten what her own laughter sounded like.
The rain blurred her vision. For a moment, she let it. It was easier to cry when the sky wept with you.
> "I failed you," she whispered, voice trembling. "You believed in me, and I became everything you warned me about."
Thunder echoed across the rooftops. The air smelled of wet leaves and lightning. Somewhere, a temple bell rang in the distance, low and mournful.
Lucy took a deep breath. The sorrow in her eyes slowly hardened into resolve. The past could not be changed — but it could be avenged.
> "I can't undo the past," she murmured, wiping her tears. "But I can stop him. I will stop him."
She turned from the gate and began walking back toward the main road, her reflection rippling across every puddle she passed.
---
Far away, in the industrial outskirts of the city, Nick Verma stood by a cracked warehouse window, watching the same storm paint the skyline in electric white.
Freedom still tasted unfamiliar — metallic, sharp, and thrilling. His hands rested on a stack of old files spread across a rusted table. Each page bore the symbol of the Agency.
He had spent years inside a prison cell, watching, waiting, listening. Every moment, every breath had been a calculation. And now, it was time to act.
He picked up a single photograph from the pile — Lucy, standing in front of Central Jaipur High, rain dripping from her hair. Someone had taken it recently.
A faint smile touched his lips.
> "You went back," he said softly. "Of course you did."
He tucked the photo inside his coat, the gesture almost tender. Then, his eyes darkened.
> "You'll understand soon, Lucy. What they did to us. What they did to him."
A drop of rain leaked through the ceiling and splashed onto the paper below, smearing the ink — but not the intent.
The city thundered outside. Somewhere, a train passed, its horn echoing through the storm like a warning.
---
Lucy reached the main street again. Neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, turning the world into a blur of color and motion. She paused under a bus stop shelter, running her hand through her drenched hair.
Her phone buzzed once — a coded message from the Agency. A single line blinked on the cracked screen:
UNAUTHORIZED DATA BREACH DETECTED – INTERNAL COMPROMISE SUSPECTED.
Her pulse spiked.
A leak.
She read the message again, fingers tightening around the phone. If the data breach was real, it meant someone inside the Agency had betrayed them. And if Nick was behind it —
She looked up at the sky. Rain poured harder, relentless, merciless.
The city's heartbeat seemed to quicken. Something unseen was shifting — like a storm preparing to strike.
Lucy pocketed the phone and started walking again, faster this time. Every instinct screamed that something was coming — something inevitable, something personal.
And behind her, far across the city, the same storm that soaked her was gathering around a man who once shared her world and now sought to tear it apart.
---
In the final moments before dawn, the rain began to ease. Jaipur glowed faintly under the streetlights — serene, almost peaceful. But peace was a lie.
In the heart of that sleeping city, memories had awoken — memories of love, betrayal, and blood.
Two souls, once bound by fate, now walked the same streets in opposite directions, unaware that their paths were already converging again.
And as thunder rolled over the horizon, the storm whispered their names:
"Lucy. Nick."
---