A truck was slowly moving forward on the main road. The man driving it had sweat dripping from his forehead, while Wasim sat on the seat beside him, wearing black goggles.
Suddenly, they saw military personnel standing in the middle of the road. A checkpoint had been set up.
Confused, Wasim asked, "Why is the military here? You said there were no checkpoints on this route."
The driver replied nervously, "I don't know, sir. This is the first time I'm seeing this."
Something felt wrong to Wasim. He asked again, "This checkpoint wasn't here before, right?"
The driver shook his head in no.
Wasim said coldly, "Keep driving. Don't stop. Run over whatever comes in front."
The driver nodded and slowly increased the speed of the truck.
The military had set up a checkpoint, but seeing the truck speeding toward them, the soldiers quickly moved aside. The truck crashed into the drums blocking the road, crushing them, and sped past.
Venkatesh spoke into his walkie-talkie, "Hold your position."
At a corner, a soldier stood with a rocket launcher. SK was standing beside him. Both of them were wearing gas masks.
As the truck passed, the soldier took aim and fired. The rocket tore through the air and struck the back of the truck. A massive explosion followed, and the truck lost control, overturning and rolling toward the ravine.
SK rushed to the edge of the road and watched as the burning truck rolled down the slope, flames engulfing it, until it finally plunged into the ravine below.
A terrifying explosion followed, so powerful that it felt like an earthquake. The ravine was about 1.5 kilometers deep, yet the blast was visible even from the top. Whatever was inside that truck had no chance of surviving.
But just before the slope ended—right before the truck fell into the ravine—Wasim had opened the door and jumped out. He grabbed hold of a tree branch and managed to save himself from falling.
On the other side, Venkatesh and SK, relieved and confident that the mission was complete, left the place happily. Some time later, they were at the military headquarters, where everyone was celebrating—singing, dancing, and partying.
After a while, Venkatesh lay alone on a large rock, staring at the glittering sky above.
Soon, Suman came and lay down beside him. Looking at the sky, she asked softly, "What are you thinking about?"
Venkatesh replied, "I'm thinking that just now we saved the country. I became a good soldier, but was I a good husband? A good father? When I look back, I don't remember doing much for my children. Shakshi did everything for them. She managed the house perfectly while I stayed behind the scenes. Was it right for me to hide the truth from her? In the end, she had to pay the price for our reckless actions.
"If she's divorcing me now, she's right to do so. I'm really a loser when it comes to my family. I think it was the right decision that you didn't marry me. Otherwise, you would've regretted it too."
Suman said quietly, "I regret why I didn't reply back when you proposed to me."
Venkatesh said nothing.
She continued, "And don't lose hope. You did great for your family. Maybe they don't know your sacrifices, but you did all this to keep them safe. Not just your family—so many families in India, all our families. You did everything to protect them. They may never know your actions, but it still matters. They can sleep peacefully because we exist… because you exist."
Hearing this, Venkatesh felt much better.
Suman added, "And you were a good father too. I'm sure they love you."
Venkatesh asked softly, "And you… do you still love me?"
Suman closed her eyes. After thinking for a few moments, she said, "I don't know. I thought I had no feelings left for you, but I was wrong. I still feel something. But I don't think I can be a housewife anymore."
Confused, Venkatesh asked, "Why? I think you can be a good housewife."
Suman replied, "But I'm overaged now. Who will marry me?"
Venkatesh said immediately, "Why wouldn't they? You still look so young and beautiful."
She looked at him and asked, "Will you?"
Venkatesh went silent. After a moment, he said, "I don't think I'm good for you. I'm a failure."
Suman moved closer, grabbed his collar, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.
After a moment, she said, "Now you have to take responsibility. You have to marry me. Otherwise, I'll cut you into pieces and bury you in my backyard."
Saying this, she got up and walked away.
Venkatesh called after her, "Hey, I'm already the father of two kids!"
But Suman just smiled and kept walking. His cheeks and ears had turned red like tomatoes.
Venkatesh's family had been released. The threat named Wasim was believed to be gone from their lives—or so everyone thought. They didn't know that the danger called Wasim was still hovering over them.
Aarav was initially certain that nothing could have happened to Wasim, because according to the plot, the truck definitely fell into the ravine—but Wasim somehow survived. Aarav knew this much. However, because the world had crumbled and fate had changed, he was no longer sure whether Wasim had died this time or was still alive. Even so, he was about seventy percent sure that Wasim had survived.
Despite this, Aarav wasn't too worried. Wasim wouldn't appear for a long time, and nothing was going to happen in their lives for a while—at least for a year, nothing dangerous.
Aarav was meditating in his room. Ever since he had received that message, he felt that he could use all the abilities from his previous lives. One of those abilities was cultivation.
Throughout his many lives, Aarav had used countless cultivation techniques. He had transmigrated into Chinese novels again and again—sometimes as an immortal, sometimes orthodox, sometimes even as a Demon King. Now, he was combining all those cultivation techniques to create an entirely new one, and it was taking him a great deal of time.
If anyone had seen Aarav at that moment, they would have been shocked. Rings of light had formed around his body, rotating slowly—like silky threads made of pure light. The colors were red, blue, yellow, golden, black, and a deep crimson-black blend. Around him, mantras written in Chinese characters were circling, slowly transforming into the Hindi symbol "Om."
But suddenly, the rings shattered. The forming Om dispersed, and Aarav opened his eyes in frustration.
"Failure again," he muttered. "Something is missing… and I can't figure out what it is."
Just then, he heard the sound of the lift outside their flat. He sensed that Venkatesh had stepped out of the lift and was now standing outside their door.
Even though Aarav was creating a new cultivation technique, he possessed other powers as well—powers that made him far stronger than ordinary people. His senses and memory had become extremely sharp. On top of that, he also had a genetic gift: Venkatesh's face and his photographic memory—both of which Aarav had inherited.
Aarav stepped out of his room and saw Shakshi sitting slouched on one side of the sofa, her head resting on her hand as she watched TV. Kirti was busy on her phone.
Aarav ignored them and walked toward the gate. Shakshi asked, "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere," Aarav replied.
He opened the door and saw Venkatesh, his finger raised toward the doorbell. Seeing the door open, Venkatesh froze.
Without saying a word, Aarav opened the door wider, stepped back inside, and walked away.
The moment Kirti saw Venkatesh, she became excited. She jumped up from the sofa, ran to him, and hugged him tightly.
"Dad!"
Shakshi looked at Venkatesh and said calmly, "Go wash your hands and face. I'll serve lunch."
Aarav felt it deeply—within just a few days, the family had split into two parts, and the only bridges holding them together were Kirti and himself.
Venkatesh sat down at the dining table. Kirti and Aarav joined him. Shakshi served the food and then sat down as well.
Venkatesh asked, "Are you all okay? There was no trouble, right?"
Shakshi replied, "By your grace, we survived by a hair's breadth."
Venkatesh understood the taunt in her words.
Suddenly, Aarav asked, "How big was the explosion?"
Surprised, Venkatesh asked, "How do you know about that?"
Aarav said, "It's in the news. The NIA stopped a terrorist attack. They're not taking your name, but I can guess that you were there."
Venkatesh replied, "You've started guessing too much. Tell me something—when I told you not to, why did you fire the gun?"
Aarav fell silent, then asked, "Did you find the bodies of the people who were driving the truck?"
Shakshi immediately snapped, "What nonsense are you talking about while eating? Eat quietly."
Both of them went silent.
Some time later, Kirti and Aarav were in their room.
Meanwhile, Venkatesh and Shakshi were standing near the balcony, where there was a table and two chairs.
Shakshi placed the divorce papers in front of him and said, "I've signed them. You sign too. After that, we'll be separated."
Venkatesh didn't say much. He signed the papers.
"The children will stay with me," Shakshi continued. "But you can meet them, and you'll still have rights over them. There's just nothing left between us anymore. We can move on with our own lives."
Saying this, she looked at the flat that had been their home for twenty years. With a sigh, she said, "You can keep this flat. I'm taking the kids and going back to my parents' house. From now on, I'll live there."
Venkatesh said nothing more.
Shakshi stood up and went into her room.
That night, Venkatesh slept on the sofa, while Shakshi stayed in her room.
Late at night, Aarav stepped out of his room and quietly walked toward the gate. He slipped outside.
Venkatesh, sleeping on the sofa, suddenly opened his eyes. As a sharp-minded agent, his senses were extremely strong.
Turning slightly, he looked toward the gate and thought, Where is Aarav going at this hour?
Aarav reached the lift and pressed the button for the top floor.
Venkatesh followed and saw the lift going up. He immediately took the stairs.
Aarav reached the top floor, stepped out of the lift, climbed a short staircase, opened the door leading to the terrace, and went outside. He walked to the railing and looked out at the city below. Some areas were drowned in darkness, others lit up brightly. Cars moved along the main roads, while silence dominated the rest of the city.
On the other side, Venkatesh reached the terrace door and peeked through it to see what Aarav was doing.
Aarav took out a piece of white chalk from his pocket and drew a circle on the terrace floor. Inside it, he drew strange shapes and symbols. Then he took out five candles, placed them evenly along the circle's outline, lit them, and sat down in the center in a meditative posture.
Watching all this, Venkatesh declared Aarav crazy in his mind.
Looks like I'll have to take him to a psychiatrist, he thought. He must be upset about the divorce.
Suddenly, the wind changed direction. Venkatesh felt a strange sensation, as if someone was staring at him.
He turned around—but there was no one there.
Confused, he looked back at Aarav.
That's when he saw it.
Behind him stood a black shadow. Only its eyes were visible, and it was staring straight at Venkatesh.
At the same time, the wind around Aarav began to swirl violently. The air circled him like a vortex. The candles flickered wildly—and then went out all at once.
A black shadow appeared in front of Aarav.
In a low voice, Aarav said, "My servant."
The shadow looked at him in confusion. Its master wasn't supposed to be an eighteen-year-old boy. But then it sensed its true master's power and personality within Aarav.
Slowly, the shadow bowed its head.
Aarav took out a handkerchief and handed it to the shadow. It was lightly stained with blood—Wasim's blood. When Aarav had fired at Wasim in the parking area, some blood had fallen on the floor, and Aarav had wiped it with this very handkerchief.
"Keep an eye on this man," Aarav said. "Wait for my next command."
The black shadow bowed again—and vanished into the air.
Aarav stood up, but suddenly felt someone behind him. He turned around sharply.
Venkatesh was standing there, arms crossed, staring at him as if he had just been caught red-handed.
"What is all this?" Venkatesh demanded. "I know you're depressed because of our divorce, but what kind of madness is this? Black magic on the terrace? And who were you talking to in the air?"
Venkatesh hadn't seen the shadow, but he had felt that someone was there—and that Aarav was talking to something. Still, he trusted his eyes more than his instincts.
Seeing Aarav standing silently with his head bowed, Venkatesh sighed.
"Come on," he said. "Go to sleep now. Tomorrow, we're taking you to a doctor."
The next day, Shakshi and Aarav were sitting on a sofa in a hospital waiting area.
Shakshi was staring at Aarav as if she wanted to eat him alive.
Aarav said calmly, "Mom, calm down."
Shakshi snapped, "What do you mean calm down? What kind of prank were you pulling last night?"
Venkatesh added, "It wasn't a prank. His mind has actually gone off the rails."
"Excuse me," a nurse said as she approached. "You've been called inside."
A little while later, all three of them were in the doctor's cabin.
Aarav looked at the doctor with a faint smile.
The doctor asked, "What were you doing alone on the terrace at night?"
Aarav replied with a light smile, "I just went to get some fresh air."
The doctor gestured toward the candles and the chalk.
"And these?"
"Yes," Aarav said. "Just for a prank."
The doctor noted it down and said, "Alright, let's run all the tests first. Then we'll see."
After several hours of tests, Aarav's brain scan reports arrived.
Reading the report, the doctor said, "Physically, he seems fine. This might be a psychological issue—possibly caused by your divorce. Perhaps he's subconsciously searching for a solution so that you both can stay together."
Aarav quickly said, "No, no. I just want to become a tantrik. I was only practicing."
The doctor looked at him, nodded slowly, then sighed. Handing the report to Venkatesh and Shakshi, he said, "All the best."
Shakshi and Venkatesh were now in the car, with Aarav sitting in the back seat.
Venkatesh said, "So, are you finally going to tell us why you did all that?"
Aarav replied, "I was just pranking. What's such a big deal about it?"
Venkatesh said, "You didn't even know I was on the terrace."
"I noticed you earlier," Aarav replied. "You were hiding behind the gate."
Venkatesh frowned. "Aarav, I'm a top-level agent. I know when someone is lying and when they're telling the truth. When you turned around on the terrace, I noticed—you looked nervous, like you'd been caught doing something wrong."
Shakshi interrupted, "Enough, you two."
Then she turned to Aarav. "Look, Aarav, I know you're troubled by our divorce, but don't worry. We're not leaving you. Your dad will always be here, and I'll always be your mom. Nothing will change in your life. He'll visit whenever he's free—though honestly, he barely came home even before."
Once again, Shakshi took a jab at Venkatesh. He said nothing.
Aarav said, "Okay, I understand. But why are we going to your village, far away from the city? And why didn't you take us there earlier?"
Shakshi replied, "Because I didn't want you to grow up in that village."
Aarav asked, confused, "Why? What's wrong with that village?"
Shakshi said quietly, "It's better if you don't know."
Hearing this, Aarav grew a little curious.
Some time later, they returned to their flat.
---
Elsewhere, Wasim—who had somehow survived—was being treated in a small clinic. Afzal stood beside him, holding various herbs. He burned one particular herb and placed it beneath Wasim's bed. Its smoke slowly entered Wasim's body, gradually changing shape.
Afzal sat on a nearby chair with his eyes closed, asleep.
Suddenly, the smoke took the form of a human figure with red eyes and lunged at Wasim.
Terrified, Wasim jerked awake, gasping for breath.
Afzal immediately woke up as well.
Wasim saw smoke all around him, and Afzal nearby. He didn't see anything dangerous anymore. Letting out a sigh of relief, he relaxed.
Afzal asked, "Uncle, are you okay?"
Wasim nodded.
---
On the other side, Kirti, Aarav, and Shakshi were sitting in a car, while Venkatesh was driving them.
Venkatesh said, "There's one thing I don't understand. When people get divorced, they live separately. So why am I driving you to your village? And on top of that, why do I have to stay there too?"
Shakshi replied, "Because ours was a love marriage. I can't tell them that I've divorced you."
Venkatesh snapped, "And why can't you tell them?"
Shakshi said, "Because if they find out, they'll chop your head off."
Venkatesh asked seriously, "You mean… beheading?"
Shakshi teased, "Yes—beheading. Then they'll make soup out of it, drink it, and throw a party."
Kirti and Aarav burst out laughing.
Suddenly, a black crow flew straight into their windshield.
Bang.
The glass shattered, splattered with blood. Shakshi and Kirti screamed, and Kirti began panicking.
Venkatesh immediately pulled the car over. At the same moment, the engine stalled, and smoke began to rise from it.
Seeing this, Venkatesh stepped out, opened the bonnet, and saw smoke pouring out of the engine.
Kirti slowly calmed down.
The others got out of the car as well.
Venkatesh said, "Looks like this won't run anymore. We'll need to call a mechanic."
But Kirti's attention was fixed on the black crow that had smashed into the windshield. She was badly shaken.
Looking at the crow, Aarav muttered, "Strange…"
He could see black smoke coming out of the crow's body, dispersing into the air—something no one else could see.
Aarav looked around. There was no one else in sight for miles.
Venkatesh also looked around and said, "The village is four kilometers from here."
Shakshi checked her phone. "There's no network either."
Just then, they saw a car approaching from a distance.
Everyone looked toward it.
Venkatesh signaled with his hand for the car to stop.
The car pulled over near them.
Inside were two young men and a young woman. All three looked like they came from well-off families.
Aarav observed them closely. One of them had an aura that felt… different—an aura usually associated with a protagonist.
So this is him, Aarav thought. The protagonist who has now become part of this world, after coming from another one.
But which story is this?
He thought for a moment, but with too few clues, he gave up trying to figure it out.