Malisha sat alone in the driver's cabin, pushing the bus as fast as the road would allow.
They were racing through the Yellow Zone—the largest stretch of land still crawling with people rather than zombies. Fewer dead. More ranks. Which somehow made it worse.
The cabin door creaked open.
Malisha glanced sideways.
Siya stepped in and sat beside her.
"So," Siya said after a moment, forcing a small, awkward smile. "Driving, huh?"
Malisha exhaled softly.
"My driver's asleep," she replied evenly. "So yeah. Driving."
Then, without looking at her, she added, "But that's not why you're here. What is it, Siya?"
Siya hesitated.
"I just wanted to ask if you're okay," she said quietly. "I mean—are you hurt? Injured anywhere?"
Malisha frowned slightly.
"Why would I be injured?"
Siya swallowed.
"I don't know. Killing a Rank Fifty… I thought maybe—"
She stopped herself. "If you're hurt, I can treat it. And… I'm sorry about earlier. I lost control."
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.
Malisha tightened her grip on the wheel.
"Nothing's ever simple, Siya," she said after a pause.
"Sometimes things just… happen. Not planned. Not clean."
She glanced briefly at Siya.
"Like you pointing a gun at a survivor. You didn't plan that either."
Siya nodded slowly.
"I understand that," she said. "I really do."
Then she hesitated again.
"But the land mines… the blasts weren't random. They were precise. Too precise."
She chose her words carefully.
"Don't get me wrong—but did you have something to do with that?"
Malisha's jaw tightened.
"No," she said quickly. "I—I don't know how that happened."
The cabin door burst open before she could say more.
Dweep rushed in, breathless, his face lit with relief.
"Raghav's awake!" he nearly shouted. "Siya—he just woke up!"
Siya spun around instantly and rushed out with him.
Malisha stayed where she was.
The silence pressed in.
She pulled the bus over to the side of the road and let it idle.
Looking into the rearview mirror, she whispered to herself—
"Alright then."
She opened the cabin door and stepped into the bus.
Everyone was already gathered around Raghav.
Raghav was sitting up now.
Siya knelt beside him, checking his injuries with practiced focus. Aditya patted Raghav's shoulder before sitting down next to him. Even the survivors—tense as they were—looked relieved. For a moment, the bus felt quieter.
Malisha stood a little apart, beside Dweep.
"Raghav," Siya said gently, "tell me how you're feeling."
Raghav lifted his gaze, slowly scanning the faces around him. His eyes paused on Malisha for just a second—only a second—before moving on. His expression didn't change.
His face was pale, bruised badly on the left side. A cut along his jawline was already bandaged, but his eyes were distant, oddly empty.
"I—" he started, then stopped.
He winced and touched his cheek lightly. "It… hurts to speak."
"That's expected," Siya replied. "Talking, drinking, eating—it'll all hurt for a while. The wound is fresh."
She softened her tone. "You're better than before. Not fine yet—but you'll recover."
Dweep stepped forward, unable to hold it in any longer.
"I know this isn't the time," he said, voice tight, "but… thank you, Raghav."
Raghav tried to smile.
Aditya broke the tension.
"Oh, come on. Injuries and scars are normal for us, right?"
He lifted his leg slightly. "Look at me."
A few people chuckled—nervously.
Not everyone was relieved.
One of the survivors—still shaken, still angry—stepped forward.
"You were in the car with her, weren't you?" he asked sharply.
His eyes burned into Raghav.
"Tell us the truth. Did Malisha kill anyone? Rank Fifty—did that happen?"
Malisha moved closer instantly, standing beside Raghav.
"He just woke up," she said calmly. "Give him time."
Her eyes met Raghav's for a moment—then dropped to the floor.
Raghav straightened slowly. Pain flickered across his face, but he forced himself upright.
"Yes," he said hoarsely.
"I was there."
The bus went silent.
"She… talked them through," he continued, every word costing him.
"Malisha—she's an experienced OG captain. She knows how to get people out of situations like that."
When he finished, he swayed slightly, breathing hard.
Malisha reached out to steady him.
Raghav pulled his hand away the instant she touched him.
It was quick—almost invisible.
Only Malisha noticed.
"I said he shouldn't be talking," Siya snapped. "This interrogation helps no one."
She turned to Raghav. "Sit down. You're not okay."
"I—I'll drive," Raghav insisted, voice strained.
"I don't want to sit. My hands… legs… they're fine."
"You should listen to Siya," Aditya said lightly.
"She's not taking nonsense from anyone today."
"I'll go with him," Malisha said quietly.
"Let him drive."
Raghav didn't argue.
He walked toward the driver's cabin. Malisha followed.
Raghav took the seat and started the engine.
Malisha locked the cabin door behind them and sat down beside him.
The bus rolled forward.
And neither of them spoke.
"I want to talk to you, Malisha," Raghav said. Every word felt like tearing the wound open again.
"Yes, we will," Malisha replied, still not looking at him. "But not right now. You're not ready. You're not okay at all. You should be thankful you're alive."
"Thankful to you…" Raghav whispered. "…for not killing me too."
Malisha turned sharply. Her eyes flinched.
"Do you really think I'd do that, Raghav?" she said quietly. "I know it's a lot, but you know me. I can't hurt you. Any of you."
"What I knew," Raghav said, forcing the words out, "was that you had siblings at home… that you were the only one earning, so you became an OG. That you were brave. That you saved people. Maybe you even had reach up to the founders."
His voice trembled, but he didn't stop.
"That's who I thought you were. But now…"
He exhaled painfully.
"I don't think I know anything. What should I call you—Malisha? Captain? Rank 2? Queen Conquera—"
Blood seeped through the edge of his bandage.
"Stop," Malisha said sharply. "You'll kill yourself like this. Do you want to pass out again?"
Then she paused. Her tone softened.
"Let's do one thing," she said quietly. "I'll ask the questions—and I'll answer them too. I know you need the truth."
She finally looked at him.
"Don't hurt yourself for me. You already did."
Raghav kept his eyes on the road.
Malisha exhaled sharply. Then she turned to him.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I have siblings. I work for them. I always have."
She paused.
"Four years ago—when the zombie outbreak started—I had nothing. I was no one. People around me were dying. Not just from the virus. From hunger. From being forgotten."
Her fingers tightened around her jacket.
"I knew we wouldn't survive like that for long."
She stopped. Swallowed.
"There was… an offer," she continued, voice trembling. "They were looking for girls. Only girls. I didn't know for what at first. In return, they protected families. Relatives. The younger the girl, the better the deal."
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
"So I… I sold myself. So they would live."
Raghav's foot eased off the accelerator without him realizing.
He turned to her, stunned.
"You—what?"
"I told you not to talk," Malisha said immediately, noticing the blood. "Your wound—Raghav, it's bleeding again."
But his eyes demanded answers.
She forced herself to continue.
"I met the King there," she said softly. "I worked for him. The rest… everyone knows that part."
She looked up—just not at him.
"The death rumors, the OG system—I spread them so I could come back to my siblings. So I could protect them. So I could protect others too."
A bitter smile tried—and failed—to appear.
"Yes, I have reach up to the founders. I am one of them. No one lets an eighteen-year-old girl become an OG captain otherwise."
She stared at the road like it was something unfamiliar.
"And yes… the killings. The rank meetings. Even small ranks can destroy everything. Mafias, kings, dictators—they don't give movement, information, or safety for free. They live on blood. They don't care if their people die—as long as they stay powerful."
Her voice hardened.
"So the system runs under my guarantee. Anyone who breaks order faces consequences. Rank Fifty included."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
Raghav's face showed no anger.
Only disgust.
Malisha continued, quieter now.
"I never use my team. I do it myself. I always have. I never wanted you to feel used. And if you hate me for this… I understand."
She finally looked at him.
"And no—I don't sleep peacefully. You know I don't."
Silence.
Raghav turned to her.
"I know there must have been a reason," he said slowly. "That's not the issue."
He swallowed.
"The problem is—I didn't know. You shattered the idea of Malisha Ramaniya for me. And now… no matter how hard I try… you're not who you used to be."
The bandage finally gave way.
Blood soaked through.
Raghav tightened his grip on the wheel, hiding the pain.
Malisha's hands began to tremble.
She didn't know if it was his words—or the blood.
She stood abruptly.
"That's enough," she said firmly. "I'm calling Siya. You need treatment. This is not bravery—it's self-torture."
She opened the door and called out.
Siya rushed into the cabin, Dweep right behind her with the medical kit.
Outside, darkness had fully settled. The soundproof bus rolled deeper into the Yellow Zone—but this part of it was different. Too many shadows. Too much movement.
Zombies lined the road now.
Raghav kept driving, hands steady on the wheel despite the pain burning through his face.
"Oh god—this shouldn't have happened," Siya said, pressing fresh cotton soaked in antiseptic against his wound. "You're bleeding again. Let me see properly."
Malisha sat silently in the co-driver's seat, watching the road.
A shape lurched suddenly into the headlights.
"Zombie!" someone shouted.
Raghav swerved instinctively.
Siya lost her balance and fell forward, crashing into the steering wheel.
The bus tilted violently—balanced on its left wheels for a terrifying second.
Screams erupted.
Raghav slammed the brakes.
The bus crashed into the burnt wall of a collapsed house. Metal shrieked. The soundproofing cracked on impact, and the sharp pop of bursting tyres echoed through the night.
Silence followed—thick and stunned.
Malisha hit the window hard. Pain shot through her shoulder, but the glass held. Bruised, not bleeding.
She was on her feet instantly, pulling Siya up with her.
Raghav sat frozen for a heartbeat, then forced himself back into control, breathing hard.
Aditya rushed in, helping Dweep up from the floor.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Accident," Malisha said flatly. "Sudden."
Then something hit her.
She turned and moved fast—past the survivors, past the noise—straight to the dogs' compartment.
She opened the door.
Three terrified dogs were huddled in the corner, whining and barking. The moment they saw her, they rushed forward.
"Oh thank god," Malisha whispered, dropping to her knees. "I was so scared for you."
She ran her hands over their heads, steadying them. Breathing with them.
Then she stood, locked the door gently behind her, and exhaled.
Aditya was waiting, tense.
"Two tyres are completely punctured," he said. "We can't change them here. And—"
Loud music thumped faintly from outside.
"We're near a Rank club. Dark zone inside Yellow. Same zombie density as Red Zone. The bus is badly damaged. Emergency lights are unstable—I shut them off for now, but they'll keep flashing. Radio's dead. No signal."
He swallowed.
"We're stuck."
Inside, survivors argued. Complained. Panicked.
Malisha ignored them.
She headed back to the driver's cabin.
Siya stepped out, eyes wet.
"I treated Raghav," she said quietly. "And I'm… I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Malisha replied, placing a hand briefly on her shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. Accidents happen."
She went inside.
Raghav sat alone, trying to access the system—hands shaking with pain.
He looked up. "I—"
"No," Malisha cut in calmly. "You're not saying a word. And stop trying. You can't fix this like that. Sit back."
She looked out the shattered window.
Across the road stood a massive building—neon lights blazing, music roaring.
DEVILA PEARL.
Dozens of armed men guarded the entrance, killing zombies on sight. Luxury cars streamed into the parking area. Guards checked ranks. Questioned. Executed anyone who didn't belong.
Malisha watched it the way one watches a tree.
"I think the oil tank's leaking," Raghav said quietly, gathering every ounce of strength. "We were hit there. It could… catch fire."
The words hit her like a bullet.
"That's bad," she whispered.
She reached for her satellite phone.
Cracked. Dead.
Malisha looked at the broken device.
Then at the club.
Then at the zombies closing in.
One option.
The worst one.
She muttered under her breath, "Can this day get any worse?"
Malisha turned back just as Aditya entered the cabin.
"I think I've found a way to deal with the emergency lights," he said quickly. "The bus should be safe if—"
"The oil is leaking," Malisha cut in calmly. "The bus is far from safe."
Aditya went pale. He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Then what do we do? There's nowhere to go."
Malisha glanced out the broken window.
"Well," she said lightly, "I see a perfectly good club across the road. And if I remember correctly, you were complaining you hadn't gone clubbing in ages. Looks like today's your lucky day."
Raghav watched them from the driver's seat and swallowed hard. He didn't dare say a word.
Aditya stared at her.
"Are you out of your mind? That's Devila Pearl. One of the biggest ranked clubs out there."
"No," Malisha replied pleasantly. "I'm very sane, thank you. And this is our only option."
She turned decisive.
"Prep everyone. We leave in five. My dogs will lead us—keep the zombies off. I'll put on the uniform."
"And how exactly do you plan on getting us inside?" Aditya pressed. "It's a ranked club. Ranked."
Raghav looked at Malisha quietly.
She didn't look back.
"Everyone has a price," Malisha said.
She opened the drawer beneath the co-driver's seat and pulled out a small pouch, handing it to Aditya. Gold coins clinked softly inside.
"Emergency funds," she added. "Or did you think I carried those for decoration?"
Aditya took a slow breath, nodded once, and turned away.
"Dweep," he called. "We need to move."
He began explaining the situation to him, already issuing instructions.
Malisha walked past them toward the bathroom.
"Are we going to die?" Ishitha whispered, tears slipping down her face.
Malisha stopped briefly beside her.
"Not on my watch," she whispered back.
She stepped inside.
When Malisha emerged, she looked nothing like the others.
Her uniform was sleeveless, a fitted jacket layered over it. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail. Clean. Controlled. Ready.
The team was prepared too.
Siya supported Raghav.
Dweep calmed the survivors.
Each survivor had been given a pistol.
Every team member was armed.
Aditya stood at the door, hand resting on the handle.
Malisha released the dogs.
The three of them stepped out first, alert and silent.
Then Malisha followed.
One by one, the others came after her.
Aditya exited last, pulling the bus door shut behind them.
Outside the bus, the dogs moved first.
Any zombie that came too close didn't get a second chance.
Two German Shepherds and a Saint Bernard—fully trained, disciplined, lethal.
No one doubted their usefulness anymore.
The team and survivors followed close behind.
They reached the club entrance.
The guards looked at them with open suspicion—but still stepped aside. Beyond the main gate, the space between the gate and the club itself was crowded with people. Armed. Confident. Arrogant.
Ranks.
Lower ranks stood beside them like ornaments carrying guns.
This place lived up to its name and its rumors.
Malisha didn't slow down.
She ignored the stares. The whispers. The deliberate shoulder brushes.
She walked straight toward the entrance counter, her team forming behind her.
Suddenly, Siya grabbed her wrist from behind and pulled her back.
Two men from a larger group were laughing—teasing Ishitha openly. Their jackets matched. Same insignia. Same arrogance.
One of them grabbed Ishitha's hand.
Saurabh reacted before thinking.
He fired his gun into the ground.
"What do you think you're doing?" he shouted. "Let her go!"
Everything froze for half a second.
Then fists flew.
One of the men punched Saurabh hard.
Aditya snapped—lunging forward, hitting him back and shoving the other man away from Ishitha.
She stumbled free.
But they were outnumbered.
The group swarmed them instantly, guns raised, grips tight. Saurabh, Aditya, and the man beside Ishitha were restrained within seconds.
A man stepped forward, smirking.
"What do you think you are?" he sneered. "I'm Rank Fifty-Seven. We're all ranked here—not like you filthy… what is it? Guards?"
Laughter erupted.
"We work under Rank Twenty-Nine," he continued. "The Prince."
His smile widened. "Remember that. He's your master now."
Malisha exhaled slowly.
She stepped forward—past Aditya, past the guns, past the noise.
Straight to the man standing calmly at the center of the group.
Clean clothes. Relaxed posture. Smiling.
"Are you Rank Twenty-Nine?" she asked.
"Yes," the man replied easily.
"Good," Malisha said.
She punched him.
One clean strike to the left cheek.
He hit the ground on his knees.
Before anyone could react, Malisha had a thin metal wire in her hand. In one smooth motion, she looped it around his neck and pulled tight.
The smile vanished.
Rank Twenty-Nine clawed at the wire, choking, gasping.
The crowd went dead silent.
Hands hovered over triggers.
"I'd like the girl back," Malisha said calmly.
"And the boys too."
No one moved.
Her expression hardened.
She tightened the wire.
Rank Twenty-Nine's feet scraped against the ground as he struggled harder.
That was enough.
The men released Ishitha, Saurabh, and Aditya immediately—hands raised, movements careful.
Ishitha ran back, shaking.
Saurabh and Aditya stood frozen—stunned, frightened, and wide-eyed.
Malisha didn't look at them.
Her focus never left the man in her grip.
The club guards finally intervened, guns raised—cross-aimed at Rank 29's men and Malisha's crew alike. One of the guards had his weapon trained directly on Malisha.
She released the wire.
The Prince collapsed forward, coughing violently, struggling to draw breath.
Malisha calmly unzipped her jacket and let it slide off her shoulders.
The tattoos were impossible to miss.
On her left shoulder—a knife cutting through a cloud. In this world, the symbol needed no explanation. Assassin.
On the other—a crown pierced by a sword. No one knew what it meant. Only that it was feared.
"I want to see Aryan," Malisha said, her voice steady.
"Now."
The guard froze, blinking twice. "Who?"
"Aryan. The handler here. Rank Fifteen. The player," she replied. "Does that ring a bell?"
"Yes, but—" the guard hesitated. "Who are you? No one just calls the owner."
"He isn't the owner," Malisha said flatly.
"I am."
The guard shook his head. "That's impossible. The owner is Queen Conquera. Rank Two."
"Which is, in fact, her."
The voice came from behind them—calm, amused.
A tall, striking man stepped out of the club. Wine-colored shirt, off-white linen pants, light brown eyes that missed nothing.
"I must say," he smiled, looking directly at Malisha,
"you've made some very uncommon decisions tonight, my Queen."
Malisha met his gaze and smiled.
Behind her, the team stood stunned