Saint Xavier Group of Education, Mumbai
A prestigious school where the children of Mumbai's elite studied—industrialists, politicians, celebrities. Within its polished corridors and glass-walled classrooms, reputations were built before futures even began. Aarav and Kirti studied here too.
Despite Kirti being two years older, the siblings were in the same class. They had started school together, and somehow, fate had kept them side by side ever since.
Kirti sat on the second bench, leaning toward her friend, whispering and giggling softly. Her confidence was effortless, her presence commanding. Aarav, on the other hand, sat alone—last bench, near the window, far from his usual group of friends.
He stared outside.
The city moved on relentlessly—cars rushing past, people chasing lives that didn't wait for anyone. Aarav's eyes were fixed on nothing and everything at the same time.
In this novel's original plot, everyone had forgotten Aarav's birthday.
That single fact had hollowed him out more than he cared to admit.
At breakfast, when Shakshi and Kirti had casually mentioned a "party," Aarav had genuinely believed—if only for a moment—that they were planning a surprise for him. That hope had warmed his chest, fragile and foolish.
But the truth was far more mundane—and cruel.
The birthday wasn't his.
It was Kirti's boyfriend's.
Shakshi and Kirti were going out on a date first, and then heading to that party together. Aarav was never part of the plan.
The innocent version of Aarav had waited the entire day, counting hours, replaying the morning in his head. And in the evening, when a party location finally appeared on his phone, he had gone there without hesitation.
That place was where he died.
And where the novel's real plot began.
Normally, none of this would have mattered to him anymore.
Aarav had died too many times—transmigrated through too many worlds. Death had lost its weight. Fate had become predictable. Plots were cages you couldn't break, only endure.
But this time was different.
This wasn't transmigration.
This was reincarnation.
No matter how cold he tried to become, he couldn't deny it anymore—he was attached to them. To this family. To Venkateshwar. To Shakshi. To Kirti.
He could accept divorce.
He could accept separation.
But death?
That, he couldn't watch again.
Fate might not allow him to stop the divorce between Shakshi and Venkateshwar. Some things were fixed points in the narrative. But death—death might still be negotiable.
That was why he had mentioned his birthday.
A small push.
A slight deviation.
Now all that remained was to see whether fate would bend… or snap back harder.
---
Kirti's phone vibrated softly.
Can't wait to see you.
She stared at the message for a few seconds, hesitation flickering across her face. Then she typed back.
I can't go out today. It's also my brother's birthday, so we're organizing a party at home.
She sent it and bit her lip, staring at the screen nervously. What if he got angry?
A moment later, a reply appeared.
It's really fate. What were the chances that your brother and I have the same birthday? Can I come to the party and wish him?
Kirti's face lit up instantly. Her heart fluttered, affection blooming deeper than before. He's so understanding, she thought.
She quickly replied.
But what about your party?
The response came almost immediately.
My party won't start before 12. I can wish your brother first and come back. And maybe… we can go to my party together later.
Kirti hesitated again.
I don't think Dad will allow me. And how do I even introduce you to him?
A playful message popped up.
Easy. Tell him I'm the guy whose heart you stole. And anyway… your mom is already with us, so why worry?
Kirti smiled at her phone, completely unaware that every word typed, every decision made, was aligning perfectly with a fate that was already sharpening its blade.
Meanwhile—inside the school canteen.
Students were scattered across multiple tables, eating lunch, laughing loudly, sharing gossip, living carefree lives. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and the canteen buzzed with youthful energy.
Among them, at one particular table, Shakshi sat with a man.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, undeniably handsome.
The kind of man who turned heads without trying.
Many girls in the school secretly admired him—and Shakshi was no exception.
At first, Shakshi hadn't been like this. She used to be sharp, irritable, always on edge. Venkateshwar was constantly busy with his job, rarely home, barely present. The house had slowly turned quiet, then hollow.
And that was when he entered her life.
Harry.
The new chemistry teacher.
He always wore a silver cross around his neck, his sleeves rolled just enough to look casual, his smile warm but unreadable. From the day he joined, he became the unspoken crush of almost every woman on campus.
Including Shakshi.
What started as small conversations—about classes, stress, life—slowly turned into something deeper. Closer. Dangerous.
The line blurred.
The affair began.
What Shakshi didn't know—what she couldn't possibly imagine—was that Harry was not Harry at all.
His real name was Wasim Khan.
A foreign national.
A terrorist operative.
A man playing with their lives like chess pieces.
And Kirti's boyfriend?
He was part of the same network.
Afzal.
Wasim's nephew.
---
Shakshi sighed, lightly holding her ears in apology.
"Sorry… we'll have to cancel our date," she said softly. "It's my son's birthday."
Wasim smiled gently, his expression understanding to the point of perfection.
"Don't worry," he said. "I understand. He's more important than our date."
Shakshi looked relieved.
"Thank you… for understanding."
Wasim's lips curved into a faint smirk as he leaned closer.
"If I don't understand," he said quietly, "then who will? After all… your son means something to me too."
As he said that, he reached out and held Shakshi's hand, locking eyes with her.
She didn't pull away.
After some time in chemistry lab
For a while, weird sounds echoed from inside the chemistry lab.
Then—
The school bell rang.
Reality snapped back into place.
Shakshi quickly fixed her hair and stepped out of the lab, collecting her books from Harry before leaving. Moments later, her phone vibrated.
Afzal was calling.
Elsewhere, Wasim glanced at his own phone, picked it up, and spoke calmly.
"There's a slight change in the plan."
---
At the same time—outside a corporate building.
Venkateshwar stood casually near the entrance, black sunglasses covering his eyes, chewing gum lazily as if he had all the time in the world.
Beside him stood his partner, SK.
"Tell me something," Venkateshwar asked, glancing at the building.
"What do you think the turnover of this company is?"
SK answered without much thought.
"Maybe… five to ten crores?"
Venkateshwar slowly turned his head toward him.
The look he gave SK made it feel as if SK had just committed a crime against humanity.
"Add two more zeros," Venkateshwar said dryly.
"You really think an online multiplayer RPG gaming company earns only five to ten crores?"
Before SK could reply, a van pulled up.
Several men stepped out. Among them was a heavily built man wearing black sunglasses, a green T-shirt, and khaki pants.
He looked at the building and said firmly,
"Let's begin the operation."
With that, he walked inside—his team following close behind.
SK whistled softly.
"Damn… Ghosh looks like a commando even in civil clothes. The moment criminals see him, they'll probably run."
Venkateshwar chuckled under his breath.
"And run where?" he said.
"If they run… they'll run straight into us."
Unseen threads tightened across the city.
By nightfall—
birthdays would turn into funerals,
smiles into regrets,
and a man named Rahul Tiwari would finally be forced to become
Venkateshwar Shastri—
in front of the people he loved most.
Meanwhile, Ghosh and his unit split into two teams.
One team headed toward the stairwell, while the other moved straight into the elevator. Ghosh stepped inside with them and pressed the button for the third floor.
---
On the third floor, the office looked normal—almost too normal.
Employees were busy at their desks, eyes glued to monitors, fingers tapping keyboards. Inside one of the cabins, a man was testing a game build, completely focused.
Then—
A message flashed on his screen.
His expression changed instantly.
He glanced around in panic, and at that very moment, he saw figures approaching outside the glass walls—men moving with precision, posture sharp, eyes alert.
Commandos.
The man immediately ducked down, sliding under the desk, and began sneaking out of the cabin while staying low to the ground.
---
Ghosh arrived with his team moments later.
Standing in front of them was a man in a black three-piece suit—the company's manager.
Looking at the armed men, he asked nervously,
"Yes… may I know who you people are?"
Ghosh calmly pulled out a document and showed it to him.
"Arrest warrant," he said. "We're looking for three employees of your company. Can you tell us where they are?"
The manager frowned after reading the paper.
"But… what exactly have they done?"
"For now," Ghosh replied evenly,
"just tell us where they are."
---
Elsewhere, the men they were searching for were desperately trying to escape—still crouched low, slipping through cabins, hoping not to be seen.
But fate wasn't on their side.
Inside one cabin, a female employee noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned—and saw a man sneaking past.
He froze.
Then raised a finger to his lips, silently signaling her to stay quiet.
The girl hesitated… then looked toward the commandos standing nearby.
At the same time, the manager pointed toward three cabins and said,
"They work there—the three of them."
He turned to look again.
The cabins were empty.
"Where did they go?" he muttered, raising his voice. "You three—where are you—"
Suddenly, the girl spoke up.
"Sir… they're here."
The moment those words were spoken, one of the men sprang to his feet and bolted. He leaped through a nearby window into the corridor.
"Move!" someone shouted.
Several officers immediately chased after him, boots thundering against the floor as the operation finally turned chaotic.
The hunt had begun.
Seeing him run, another man who had been hiding made his move as well.
He sprinted toward the window, panic written all over his face. But the moment he jumped out, one of the officers who had already given chase tackled him mid-escape, slamming him hard onto the floor.
The last man was still hidden.
Slowly… carefully… he crawled forward, every breath controlled, every movement calculated.
Then—
A shadow fell over him.
He looked up.
A man stood right in front of him, wearing khaki pants, posture relaxed yet deadly.
Before he could react, the cold black mouth of a gun was already pointed at his forehead.
It was Ghosh.
"Game over," Ghosh said calmly.
The man froze.
---
Outside the building, SK and Venkatesh were standing near their vehicle, watching the chaos from a distance.
Just then, Venkatesh's phone rang.
The caller ID flashed: BOSS.
Venkatesh immediately picked up.
"Venki," the voice on the other end said, serious and sharp.
"After the operation, meet me at the office."
Venkatesh frowned.
"What happened, sir? Something urgent?"
"A call has been traced," the boss replied.
"We suspect it might be linked to a terrorist mission."
Venkatesh's expression hardened.
"Understood, sir. I'll be there within an hour."
He ended the call.
At that exact moment, he noticed a man sprinting out of the office building, running straight toward the street.
Venkatesh didn't hesitate.
With his left hand, he brought the phone to his left ear, while his right hand smoothly reached behind his waist. In one fluid motion, he pulled out his pistol and aimed.
The man saw the gun and tried to change direction—
BANG!
The shot rang through the air.
The bullet hit the man directly in the leg.
He collapsed onto the ground, screaming in pain, clutching his wound.
People standing nearby froze in shock, fear locking them in place as silence followed the gunshot.
Venkatesh lowered his weapon slowly, eyes cold.
This was no longer just an arrest.
This was the beginning of something far bigger.
"What was that?"
"What kind of gunshot was that just now?"
"Did you seriously fire a gun right in front of a high-class, reputed company?"
Venkatesh calmly chewed his gum and replied without missing a beat,
"No, sir. That was just some kid bursting crackers."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.
Then his boss said coldly,
"Venki… I may look innocent, but I'm not that big of an idiot. Meet me at the office."
Venkatesh straightened instantly, bringing the phone to a salute.
"Yes, sir."
He cut the call.
Turning to SK, he frowned.
"Why are you staring at me with your mouth wide open? Come on—help me pick him up."
SK, who was still staring at Venkatesh in disbelief, snapped,
"Are you out of your mind?! You do know that firing a gun in public is prohibited in our department, right?"
"Stop giving lectures," Venkatesh said casually. "And lift him."
Grumbling, SK helped him.
The injured man was writhing in pain, groaning nonstop. They hauled him up and placed him in their jeep. Venkatesh and SK sat in the front seats, while the man lay in the back with two other officers guarding him.
SK shook his head.
"Now we'll have to go to the hospital for no reason. Bandages, paperwork… why do you always create unnecessary trouble?"
Venkatesh replied calmly, eyes fixed on the road.
"If I hadn't shot him, we'd have taken him in normally. Then we'd need official permission for interrogation—and that takes time."
He glanced at SK sideways.
"Now, under the excuse of medical treatment, we can interrogate him freely."
SK froze for a second.
Then he laughed softly, shaking his head in admiration.
"Damn… you're one sly bastard."
---
At the hospital, after the man's leg was bandaged, Venkatesh and SK entered a quiet room.
There was only one bed.
The man lay there, his leg wrapped tightly, eyes burning with anger as he glared at them.
Venkatesh looked back at him calmly and said,
"Don't stare too hard. Your eyes might pop out."
The man clenched his jaw.
Outside, the city carried on as usual.
Inside that hospital room—
The real interrogation was about to begin.