The golden light of the hallway spilled into the apartment, illuminating a trail of damp footprints leading toward the back of the house. Rudra's heart hammered against his ribs—not with the adrenaline of a monster fight, but with the cold, localized dread of a home invasion. Beside him, Raj was gripping his umbrella like a broadsword, his knuckles white.
"The light is on," Rudra whispered, his voice barely audible. "He's still here. Stay alert."
"Maybe he's armed," Raj hissed back, his knees shaking. "Rudra, you're the hero! Go in there and... and hero him!"
They crept through the living room, bypassing the kitchen where everything seemed untouched. The air grew humid, carrying the faint scent of sandalwood soap and the unmistakable sound of running water.
"Hey," Raj whispered, pointing toward the bathroom door. "Someone is in the shower. What kind of thief breaks into a house just to get clean?"
"How would I know?" Rudra muttered. He felt the purple stone on his wrist thrumming, not with a warning of a monster, but with a strange, steady resonance. He didn't have time for a tactical plan. Steeling himself, he lunged forward and kicked the bathroom door open.
"WHO'S IN HERE?!" Rudra bellowed, his fists raised.
The steam cleared to reveal a man standing under the showerhead, calmly rinsing soap from his scarred shoulders. He didn't flinch. He didn't even reach for a weapon. He simply turned his head, his cold, piercing eyes locking onto Rudra's, it was Arjun.
"Do you have a sense of privacy or not?" Arjun asked, his voice dripping with dry irritation.
Rudra's jaw dropped. "OH! Sorry! I... wait! Arjun?! What the hell are you doing in my house?!"
"I'll finish my shower, then we talk," Arjun said, reaching for the faucet. "Close the door. You're letting the cold in."
Stunned, Rudra retreated, slamming the door shut. He and Raj stood in the hallway, staring at each other in total bewilderment. Five minutes later, Arjun emerged, wearing a borrowed t-shirt of Rudra's that looked two sizes too small for his muscular frame.
"Now," Arjun said, leaning against the wall. "What was all that commotion about?"
"Look who's asking!" Rudra snapped. "You're a fugitive! The police are looking for you for murder, and you're just... taking a bath in my apartment?"
Raj stepped forward, brandishing his umbrella again. "Stay back, you serial killer! Don't try anything funny. You see this guy? He's the—"
"The new Hero of Mumbai," Arjun interrupted, his gaze shifting to Rudra.
The silence that followed was heavy. Rudra felt the air leave his lungs. "How... how do you know?"
"It was simple, really," Arjun said, crossing his arms. "I looked at your shoes".
"My shoes?", Rudra questioned and thought "is something in shoes".
Arjun continue "when i look shoes I realised it's weren't any normal shoes. It was a part of a certain school uniform. By your height I guess you are in 11 or 12 standard. I sort down 6 students which matches heros body shape. 3 were out of town for few days no chance hero would be one of them. 1 goes to tuition after school regularly hardly leave any time for hero work. 1 physical grades were too low cloud be intentionally but not high changes. That leaves you, you leave alone perfect this kind of work which give me more reason. Then I broke into your house I try to find any type evidence and bingo! I find your hero costume. "
Rudra and Raj just stare at each other because it was very high IQ thinking.
Rudra slumped into a chair, the weight of his secret feeling suddenly precarious. "So, you're just going to hide here? Why my house?"
"Because the police won't look for a 'criminal' in the home of a 'hero,'" Arjun replied matter-of-factly. And added "if you try to go to police then I will share this photos to media. Your identity will be revealed I don't think you want that.", Rudra left no choice but let him stay.
An hour later, the dynamic of the apartment had shifted into a tense, uneasy truce. Arjun had reclaimed a corner of the room, and while he didn't say much, his presence was like an anvil—heavy and unmoving.
Suddenly, Arjun stood up and pulled a bundle from his bag. He unrolled it to reveal a sleek, dark, ninja-like tactical suit, reinforced with light Kevlar and utility pouches.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" Rudra asked, rising from the sofa.
"To work," Arjun replied, pulling on a pair of blackened gloves.
"Work? What kind of work? You're a wanted man, Arjun. I thought you were effectively unemployed."
Arjun paused at the window, his silhouette cutting a sharp line against the city lights.
"You have no right to know that."
"Just... don't catch the eye of the police," Rudra warned, his voice low. "If you get caught coming out of this building, I'm in as much trouble as you."
Arjun glanced back, a ghost of a smirk touching his scarred face. "Don't worry about that. I'm a pro in this game." With a silent movement, he vanished over the balcony and into the night.
In a dimly lit, cramped office across the city, a single man sat hunched over a glowing computer screen. The rest of the building was dark, the janitors having finished their rounds hours ago. The man reached for his coffee, only to freeze as a shadow fell across his desk.
He looked up and smiled, though his eyes remained wary. "Hey, Arjun. Long time no see. What brings a dead man like you here?"
"Don't act clueless, Vinay," Arjun rasped, stepping into the light. "You know exactly what brings me here."
"It's about that girl, isn't it? Diya Sharma?" Vinay sighed, spinning his chair around. "If you don't know, I should tell you—the Silverhound syndicate has been taken over."
Arjun's eyes narrowed. "What? When?"
"A few days after you left. The new leader is a complete psycho. He doesn't believe in the old 'code.' He kills anyone he doesn't trust. He brought in new guys—heavy hitters—to replace the high-rankers. It's unsafe for you to even be in this zip code, Arjun. I'm risking my life just talking to you."
"I get it," Arjun said, his voice tightening. "But I need your help. One last time."
Vinay looked at the door, then back at Arjun. "Fine. One time. After this, don't ever come near this office again. I want to live to see my retirement."
Vinay turned to the computer and began typing frantically, bypassing layers of encrypted firewalls. A job report finally flickered onto the screen, the text stark and cold in the darkness of the room.
[JOB REPORT: CLASSIFIED]
Type: Hitman/Liquidation
Status: Completed
Target: Diya Sharma
Reason:
Arjun leaned in, his breath hitching as he read the name. Below the target info was a photograph of Diya, smiling at the camera—the same smile she used to give them when they ordered their tea.
"Why reason is blanked?" Arjun questions.
But Vinay also had no idea.
"Who ordered it?" Arjun whispered.
Vinay scrolled down, Arjun see the details with eyes wide open and question, "what they have to do with this?"
Job requester: no.2
Requester Organization: P.R.I.S.M. (Private Response & Integrated Surveillance of Monsters)