"The day the Numbers first appeared before the world… was when our captain, Number 0, responded to a request and saved an Indian VIP professor and a high-ranking army officer from the jaws of death."
Maya spoke softly, her eyes drifting into the past as she began recounting the story. Om stood still, listening with complete focus.
(Flashback)
Indian Military Headquarters – Jammu
The door burst open.
"Sir! We have a situation!"
A man rushed into General Sinha's cabin, his voice urgent, almost panicked.
Within minutes, chaos spread across the military coordination center.
Soldiers moved in a flurry—gearing up, grabbing weapons, rushing into vehicles. Three tactical units had already been dispatched toward an unknown mission.
Inside a large operations hall, General Sinha stood alongside his team, eyes locked onto the central screen, commanding every move with sharp precision.
"Sir," one of the officers reported, pointing at the digital map, "the last time we tracked Lieutenant General Bakshi and Nuclear Weapon Z's lead scientist, Mr. Tiwari… was at this valley location."
A blinking marker pulsed on the screen.
"We were in contact with Bakshi, but five minutes later… both of them disappeared mysteriously."
The tension thickened.
"However," the officer continued, "our search team detected old ruins about 10–12 kilometers from that location. Intelligence suggests that a group of Pakistani terrorists often use those ruins as a hideout."
He took a breath.
"Our assumption is… Professor Tiwari and General Bakshi are being held there."
A pause.
"We need to act immediately."
General Sinha remained silent for a moment, his mind racing through possibilities.
Then suddenly—
A crackle came through a soldier's walkie-talkie.
The soldier stiffened as he listened… then shouted—
"Sir! We're getting movement reports from the valley area!"
General Sinha's eyes sharpened instantly.
"Deploy the drones. Now," he ordered. "I want full visual coverage of that valley."
His voice turned cold.
"No matter what it takes… keep the updates coming."
Meanwhile…
In the heart of a terrorist-infested valley in Kashmir—
A figure moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Dressed in a black combat suit, the soldier cut through the terrain like a shadow. His speed resembled that of a hunting predator—silent, lethal, precise.
His face was completely hidden behind a mask and helmet.
As he approached the ruins—
The guards outside barely had time to react.
In the blink of an eye—
They were down.
No noise.
No mercy.
Inside one of the dark, crumbling rooms—
Two men lay bound like prisoners.
One was an older man in a suit—glasses cracked, face bruised, blood staining his clothes.
The other—Lieutenant General Arjun Bakshi.
Both had clearly been tortured.
Their hands were tied, their bodies battered.
Suddenly—
The door creaked open.
A terrorist walked in, holding an AK-47.
Without a word, he stepped toward Bakshi—
And slammed the butt of his gun into him.
Again.
And again.
Each blow echoed brutally in the room.
Bakshi's body shook under the impact… but he didn't scream.
The terrorist then turned toward the scientist.
He crouched down, grabbing his beard, forcing his head up with the barrel of the gun.
A twisted smile spread across his face.
"Listen, you filthy scientist," he hissed. "Tell us how Weapon Z is made. Give us the formula… and we might let you live."
He leaned closer, his voice dripping with menace.
"Otherwise… death will be the easiest punishment you get."
The scientist said nothing.
Not a word.
The terrorist's expression darkened.
Gunshot.
The bullet tore into the scientist's arm.
He screamed in agony.
Seeing this, Bakshi exploded with rage—
"Hey! Why are you torturing him?! If you've got guts… untie me!"
His voice roared through the room.
"I swear on my country—I'll bury you in this very ground!"
The terrorist slowly stood… and walked toward him.
Without warning—
Gunshot.
The bullet pierced Bakshi's leg.
But not a single cry escaped his lips.
He just stared… burning with fury.
Enraged, the terrorist punched him—once, twice, again—until blood streamed from Bakshi's nose.
Then, grabbing his hair, he sneered—
"Lieutenant General Bakshi… such an honorable officer."
He laughed cruelly.
"Don't worry. When your rescue team comes… I'll make sure your wish for death comes true."
He turned to leave… then paused at the door.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said mockingly. "We didn't drink our mother's milk… we drank the blood of Indians."
A horrifying laugh echoed as he slammed the door shut behind him.
Bakshi turned toward the scientist, breathing heavily.
"Dr. Tiwari… are you alright?" he asked, his voice strained. "I'm sorry… this is happening because of me. I failed my duty."
His eyes lowered.
"Please… hold on. A rescue team will come. Just don't lose hope."
Dr. Tiwari winced in pain, his voice weak.
"No… General… why are you apologizing?" he said slowly. "It was my insistence to come here… I wanted to see the mountains."
A faint, bitter smile.
"You warned me… but I didn't listen."
He shut his eyes briefly.
"Our soldiers are lying injured somewhere… and we're trapped here."
A pause.
"I'm the one who should be sorry… for dragging us into this."
Bakshi fell silent.
"There's no point now," he said after a moment, staring at the closed door. "What's done is done."
His voice turned distant.
"All we can do… is wait."
A pause.
"And hope… someone saves you."
His expression hardened.
"But in places like this… miracles don't happen."
The words had barely settled—
When suddenly—
Shouts echoed outside.
Gunfire.
Screams.
Footsteps running.
Chaos.
Both men froze.
Fear surged through Dr. Tiwari as he struggled against his bindings.
"General… what's happening?! What are those sounds?!" he shouted desperately. "Is it the rescue team? Tell me it's them!"
But Bakshi himself was stunned.
He knew—
A rescue team reaching this fast… was almost impossible.
Before he could process anything—
Gunshots blasted through the door.
The lock shattered.
The door swung open—
And the same terrorist who had left earlier stumbled back into the room.
For a split second—
Their eyes met.
Dr. Tiwari fainted instantly from fear.
Bakshi glared at the man—
Then suddenly—
THUD.
The terrorist collapsed face-first onto the ground.
Bakshi's eyes widened.
Bullet holes riddled his back.
He was dead.
Silence.
Then—
A shadow appeared at the doorway.
A man in a black uniform… holding a gun.
He stepped inside.
Calm. Controlled. Deadly.
"Which one of you is Lieutenant General Bakshi?" he asked.
Bakshi stared at him, stunned.
"I am… but who are you—?"
Before he could finish—
The man spoke.
"I am Number Zero."
A pause.
"And I'm here… because your soldiers requested your rescue."