The underground room felt different.
Not visibly.
Not loudly.
But something in the air had shifted.
Dr. Prem stood beside the bed, the syringe still in his gloved hand. The liquid inside reflected the dim light—clear, controlled, dangerous in the wrong hands.
He didn't rush.
He never did.
Every action had a time.
Every move had a reason.
Sasmita stood a few steps away, her eyes fixed on him.
Unblinking.
Unwavering.
She wasn't watching like someone desperate.
She was watching like someone measuring.
"Don't miss," she said quietly.
It wasn't a request.
Dr. Prem didn't respond.
Instead, he leaned slightly forward and inserted the needle with perfect precision.
No hesitation.
No second attempt.
The liquid disappeared slowly into the vein.
A second passed.
Then another.
Nothing changed.
The machines continued their steady rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Controlled.
Predictable.
But then—
a slight fluctuation.
Sasmita's fingers tightened.
The monitor flickered.
Just once.
Dr. Prem's eyes lifted instantly.
There.
A minor shift in neural response.
Not visible to an untrained eye.
But to him—
it was loud.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Sasmita stepped closer.
"What happened?" she asked.
Still calm.
Still controlled.
But her voice carried a weight it didn't before.
Dr. Prem didn't answer immediately.
He adjusted the monitor, observing the readings closely.
"She responded," he said finally.
That word—
landed heavily.
"Responded?" Sasmita repeated.
He nodded slightly.
"Her brain activity increased for a fraction of a second."
A pause.
"That shouldn't happen in this condition."
Silence filled the room again.
But it wasn't empty.
It was filled with questions.
Sasmita looked at the woman on the bed.
For a moment—
something cracked.
Very slightly.
Then—
it was gone.
"Do it again," she said.
Dr. Prem's gaze shifted to her.
"That's not how this works."
"I didn't ask how it works."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"I asked you to do it again."
For a brief second—
neither of them moved.
The tension between them thickened.
Then—
he turned away.
Not because he agreed.
But because he had already decided.
He prepared another dose.
Smaller.
More controlled.
Because this time—
he wasn't testing the patient.
He was testing the reaction.
As he moved, his thoughts sharpened.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't accidental.
This system—
this condition—
It had been designed.
And whoever designed it—
understood limits.
Understood control.
Which meant—
someone had already been here before him.
Someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
He injected the second dose.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
The machine continued its rhythm.
Steady.
Predictable.
Then—
again.
A flicker.
Stronger this time.
The heart rate spiked slightly.
The neural lines shifted.
Not fully.
But enough.
Sasmita stepped closer instinctively.
Her breath paused for just a second.
"…She's reacting," she whispered.
Dr. Prem didn't speak.
Because now—
he was sure.
"This isn't a coma," he said slowly.
The words felt heavier this time.
"She's being held back."
Silence.
Sasmita's eyes darkened.
"By what?" she asked.
Dr. Prem looked at the machine.
Then at the woman.
Then—
at her.
"By something that was meant to control her awakening," he said.
A pause.
"Or someone."
That word lingered.
For a brief second—
their thoughts aligned.
Not fully.
But enough.
Above them—
Aarav's gaze sharpened.
He had been watching everything.
Every movement.
Every word.
And now—
his interest had changed.
"…So it reacts to external stimulus," he murmured.
His fingers moved across the screen, replaying the moment again.
Frame by frame.
Analyzing.
"Not bad, Dr. Prem…"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"…but you're not the only one observing."
Back underground—
Dr. Prem stepped back slightly.
His eyes didn't leave the patient.
But his mind—
was no longer focused only on her.
Because something else—
had entered the equation.
He could feel it.
Not physically.
But instinctively.
He wasn't alone in this situation.
And neither was she.
Sasmita stood still.
Her gaze fixed.
But her thoughts—
racing.
Because what just happened—
Wasn't supposed to happen.
And if it did—
Then something deeper—
was already in motion.
"…How long?" she asked quietly.
Dr. Prem didn't hesitate this time.
"If nothing interferes," he said,
"…she might wake up."
A pause.
"Soon."
That word changed everything.
Because if she woke up—
The past wouldn't stay buried anymore.
And neither would the truth.
Sasmita slowly stepped back.
Her face returned to calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
But inside—
the storm had already begun.
Because now—
time was no longer on anyone's side.