The neon lights of the city district flickered, casting long, oily shadows across the pavement as Arjun moved like a ghost through the crowd. For days, he had been a silent observer, his eyes locked onto a single target: Parth. According to the files Vinay had managed to pull, Parth was one of the three hitmen responsible for Diya's death.
Arjun kept his distance, blending into the background of late-night commuters and street vendors. He had followed Parth through three different "jobs" over the last few days, but something felt off. None of the hits seemed connected to the Private Response & Integrated Surveillance of Monsters (P.R.I.S.M.).
'Maybe I'm wasting my time', Arjun thought, his frustration mounting as he watched Parth fumble with a disposal bag in a dark alleyway. 'He's a rookie. He doesn't even know how to properly dispose of a body. Just a normal, low-level hitman'. But just as Arjun prepared to turn away, Parth stopped. He wasn't alone anymore. A second man emerged from the gloom of a nearby doorway to meet him. Arjun's blood ran cold. He recognized that silhouette—the second man from the night Diya was taken.
'What are they doing here now?' Arjun wondered, leaning closer into the shadows to listen.
Before he could catch a word, the second man's head snapped toward Arjun's position. The eye contact was instantaneous and chilling.
"I've been spotted!" Arjun hissed under his breath. He turned to bolt, but the alleyway was a trap.
"Not so fast," a cold voice whispered directly into his ear.
Arjun felt the bite of cold steel against the skin of his neck. A third man had circled behind him, pressing a jagged knife into his throat.
"Now, answer the question," the man snarled, his breath smelling of cheap cigarettes. "Who sent you?".
Arjun didn't wait for a second interrogation. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the man's wrist, twisted with bone-breaking force, and threw him over his shoulder into a stack of wooden crates. The silence of the alley shattered as the other two hitmen drew their weapons and lunged.
The fight was a blur of steel and desperate movement. Arjun fought with a ferocity born of months of suppressed grief. He moved with the precision of a man who had nothing left to lose, dodging blades by fractions of an inch. After a grueling exchange, two of the men lay motionless on the wet pavement.
Arjun lunged for the third survivor, grabbing him by the hair and slamming him against the brick wall.
"You're the one who killed Diya, aren't you?" Arjun roared, his voice cracking with rage.
The man groaned, blood trickling from his mouth. "Who?".
Arjun's grip tightened. "Wait... you don't even know her name?".
"One kill... a few weeks ago..." the man wheezed. Then, a sickening grin spread across his face. "OHH, her! Hahaha. I almost forgot her!".
The casual dismissal of Diya's life sent a surge of adrenaline through Arjun. "Why did P.R.I.S.M. order you to kill her?".
"How should I know?" the man spat. "My job is to kill anyone my master says".
"Master?" Arjun paused, his mind racing. "Is this 'master' of yours the new leader of Silverhound?".
The hitman laughed, a wet, hacking sound. "That bastard? He will never be my master!".
Arjun froze, the revelation hitting him like a physical blow. "What?! Then who is the master? Who do you really work for?".
The man leaned in, his eyes wide with a terrifying zeal. "I work for... Horns".
"What is Horns?" Arjun demanded, shaking him.
"It's..." the man began.
Before he could finish the sentence, a muffled pop echoed in the alley. The hitman's head suddenly erupted in a spray of gore and mechanical debris. Arjun recoiled, his face and clothes instantly covered in blood.
'What happened?' Arjun stumbled back, wiping his eyes. Was there a bomb in his head? What kind of technology is this?. It has to be P.R.I.S.M. tech, but what the hell is 'Horns'?.
"You shouldn't have done that," a calm, resonant voice drifted from the deepest part of the alley.
A figure stepped into the pale light of a streetlamp. Tall man in black suit and a hat where two horn were sticking out, He was the same man who was watching rudras frist fight with monster. radiated an aura of overwhelming power.
"When you escaped, you should have gone far away and lived an easy life," the stranger said, looking at the bodies on the ground with mild disappointment. "But you chose to bite us. And now, that choice will lead to your death".
Arjun wiped the blood from his mouth, his hand reaching for a fresh blade. "Who are you?".
"People call me Aagni," the man replied simply.
Without warning, Aagni moved. He wasn't fast—he was instantaneous. Arjun barely managed to bring his arms up to block as Aagni unleashed a barrage of strikes. Arjun managed to land a few desperate counter-punches, but Aagni moved like liquid, parrying every blow with effortless grace. Aagni held the upper hand at every turn, his movements calculated and devastating.
Aagni delivered a crushing blow to Arjun's chest, sending him sprawling into the trash-strewn gutter. Arjun gasped for air, his ribs screaming in protest. Aagni stood over him, reaching into his coat and pulling out a gun.
"This is your end," Aagni stated coldly, leveling the weapon at Arjun's head.
No! I don't have time to react! Arjun thought, watching the man's finger tighten on the trigger.
BANG.
The muzzle flashed, but the bullet never reached its mark. A blur of movement intercepted the shot.
"Ouch!" a familiar voice cried out. "That still hurts like hell!".
Arjun looked up, stunned. Standing between him and the barrel of the gun was Rudra.
"What are you doing here?" Arjun asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and irritation.
Shivam shook his hand as if trying to dull the pain of the impact. "I... uh... I came here to buy some ice cream. Saw you here, so I figured I'd say hi".
Arjun stared at him. 'He's such a bad liar. He must have followed me'.
Aagni lowered his weapon slightly, eyeing the newcomer with a mix of amusement and annoyance. "It's a bad night for ice cream cravings, kid".
"I don't think so," Rudra replied, his posture shifting into a combat stance.
"You idiot, run away while you still can!" Arjun shouted, struggling to stand. "This is my fight, not yours!".
Rudra didn't move. He looked back at Arjun over his shoulder, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You think you can fight this alone?".
"Rudra—"
"I think you're smart enough to realize he's far too strong for either of us alone," Rudra interrupted. He stepped closer to Arjun, offering a hand. "Do you really want to die for nothing but stupid pride?".
In that moment, the weight of the last few weeks finally crashed down on Arjun. He looked at Rudra—this naive, loud-mouthed "hero"—and saw the first genuine light he had encountered since losing Diya. Memories of his life, his failures, and his solitude flashed before his eyes.
Arjun's shoulders slumped, and to his own surprise, he felt tears stinging his eyes.
"Rudra..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "Will you... will you help me?".
Rudra grinned, the familiar, cocky confidence returning to his face. "What kind of stupid question is that?". He turned back toward Aagni, his eyes burning with determination. "Of course I'll help you. Because that's a hero's job!".