The sub-station in the Sewri district was guarded by four Malhotra enforcers wearing dark-matter chest plates and carrying heavy Aetheric rifles. They stood under a lone halogen spotlight, the rain reflecting off their black helmets.
In the shadows of a nearby warehouse, Rohan and five of Appa Gawde's gang members watched, their hands gripping steel pipes and knives.
"How are we going to do this, Rohan?" one of the gang members, a wiry youth named Sameer, whispered. "They have rifles. If we step out, they'll shoot us before we can cross the road."
"Wait," Rohan said, his eyes scanning the dark street. "Vikram is already there."
"Where?" Sameer asked, looking around. "I don't see him."
"Exactly," Rohan muttered.
Near the sub-station entrance, one of the enforcers sneezed. As he reached up to wipe his visor, a hand materialized from the empty air behind him, wrapping around his mouth. A soft blue spark flared on the attacker's knuckles, and the enforcer slumped to the ground, unconscious, before he could make a sound.
"Intruder!" the second enforcer yelled, raising his rifle.
But before he could pull the trigger, the shadow on the wall behind him rose up, solidifying into a black kinetic fist that drove into his chest. The enforcer was thrown ten feet through the air, crashing into the sub-station's chain-link fence.
The remaining two enforcers fired their rifles into the darkness, the blue Aetheric bullets lighting up the rain.
But their targets weren't there. Vikram moved like a ghost, folding the shadows around himself to become invisible, then reappearing to strike. A left hook, enhanced by Prana, shattered an enforcer's visor. A sweep of his leg knocked the last soldier flat.
In less than ten seconds, all four enforcers lay unconscious on the wet asphalt.
Vikram materialized under the spotlight, his breathing calm, his hands resting in his pockets. The silver-gray glow in his eyes slowly faded back to dark brown.
"Go," Rohan waved to the gang members.
Sameer and the other youths ran across the street, staring at the unconscious soldiers in awe. They had never seen anyone defeat Malhotra enforcers so easily, let alone without a gun.
"He... he really is Amar Rathod's son," Sameer whispered, his face filled with respect.
"The sub-station is ours," Vikram said, looking at Rohan. "Rhea, cut the power line to the refinery docks. Let them know the resistance has started."