“Samira asked us to meet her in the meeting room. Shall we?” Aryahi asked, glancing between Surya and Srenik.

Both men nodded, and the three of them walked toward the meeting room, their steps falling into an uneasy rhythm as they moved side by side down the corridor.

“So what happened after that?” Surya asked, breaking the silence as they walked.

“The Commissioner stormed into the station,” Srenik said, his voice hardening. “He didn’t even bother to sit. He stood right in front of Niyati, furious.”

Have you lost it, Niyati? the Commissioner demanded. Do you even understand the consequences of what you’ve done?

He told her he had personally begged Judge Chidambaram not to take action against her.

Go and apologise to him if you want to save your job.

“Sir,” Niyati had said calmly, holding out a folded envelope. Her resignation letter. “Thank you… and I’m sorry.”

The Commissioner stared at her and the letter, visibly stunned. “Sorry for what?”

“You’ll know, sir,” she had replied. Then she saluted him, her posture rigid, her voice steady. “Jai Hind.”

And with that, she walked out of the station without looking back.

“Why did she apologise?” Surya asked softly.

Srenik shook his head. “Because she leaked everything. Every piece of evidence we collected. The chat records of Yogeshwar, Vinod, and Sudheer. The forensic reports. All of it went viral on social media.”

He paused, his jaw tightening before he continued. “Judge Chidambaram ordered us to take them into custody to calm the public outrage. But the moment they were released on procedural grounds, they fled the country.”

“Who was their defence lawyer?” Aryahi asked, frowning.

“Jaya Ram Shetty,” Srenik replied.

Aryahi stopped walking for a moment. “How could an insurance company manager, a so-called social worker, and a caretaker afford one of the biggest lawyers in India?”

“That’s exactly what bothered me,” Srenik said. “So I dug deeper. Followed the money. Cross-checked the call logs. That’s when I found the real mastermind.”

“Who?” Surya and Aryahi asked in unison.

“Stephen Matthews,” Srenik said. “Owner of We Care For You Life Insurance. He’s the ‘boss’ mentioned repeatedly in their chats.”

“But what’s the use now?” Aryahi said, frustration slipping into her voice. “The culprits have left the country. The case has gone cold.”

Srenik let out a slow breath. “I tried pushing for extradition. It went nowhere. Then I received a warning from the IG to stop pursuing it and focus on present and pending cases. He said we’d see about that case when the time comes.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration seeping through his composure. “Sometimes I feel like we’re trapped by the very system we’re meant to uphold. I know it sounds like an excuse.”

Aryahi gave him a sad, knowing smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, Srenik. I know exactly what that feels like.”

He smiled back at her, faint but sincere, grateful for the understanding.

Srenik then turned to Surya. “What happened to you? You seem lost.”

Surya had slowed, his gaze unfocused, as though something distant had reached out and caught hold of him.

“Nothing,” he said after a moment. “It’s just… I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

“Who?” Srenik and Aryahi asked together.

“Stephen Matthews,” Surya said, his voice low.

The name hung between them, heavy with unspoken implications.

Meanwhile, Niyati stepped into the meeting room.

“I heard we’ve taken up a new case,” she said as she walked in, her gaze settling on Samira. “Is that true?”

Samira nodded once.

“I don’t want to work on this new case,” Niyati added flatly, already turning as if the matter were settled.

“Why?”

The question came from behind her.

A man’s voice. Calm. Controlled. Unyielding.

Niyati turned around.

A man stood leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was nothing casual about him. The kind of presence that didn’t need to announce itself. The kind that made a room straighten unconsciously.

“Sir,” Niyati said, genuine surprise flickering across her face. “What brings you here? It’s… unexpected to see you.”

“Well,” he replied evenly, pushing himself off the wall, “to answer your question, I’m part of the team as well.” He took a step forward, his gaze sharpening. “To be precise, I’ll be leading this new case.”

His gaze sharpened just a fraction.

“The same case you just said you didn’t want to be part of. Now may I know why, Niyati?”

She studied him for a moment. The tension in her shoulders eased, her guarded expression giving way to something almost amused.

“How could I ever let go of a chance to work with Viren Chandravanshi?” she said, a faint smile forming. “I’m truly honoured to work under your guidance, sir.”

She extended her hand.

Viren shook it firmly. “The pleasure is mine, Niyati.”

At that moment, the door opened again.

Srenik, Surya, and Aryahi entered the meeting room together, their conversation falling silent as they took in the scene.

“Since everyone’s here,” Viren said, moving toward the table, “let’s begin.”

The others nodded and took their seats.

As Srenik walked past Niyati, he leaned in just enough for only her to hear.

“Told you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Without missing a step, Niyati stomped hard on his foot and walked past him.

Srenik sucked in a breath, wincing silently, his jaw tightening as he forced himself not to react.

Viren took the seat at the head of the table and slid two files toward Srenik on his right and three toward Samira on his left.

Srenik picked up one file and passed the other to Surya, who was seated beside him.

Samira picked up one file for herself, then handed the remaining two to Niyati. Niyati kept one and passed the last to Aryahi.

Niyati glanced down at the file in her hands and read the name printed on it aloud.
“Arjuna?”

She looked up at Viren, confusion knitting her brows. “Who’s that? There must be some mistake.”

“There’s no mistake, Niyati,” Viren said evenly. “That’s your code name.”

He looked around the table, his voice firm. “From now on, we operate only under our assigned code names.”

He gestured toward Samira. “Draupadi.”

Then to Aryahi. “Abhimanyu.”

To Surya. “Bhima.”

Finally, his gaze settled on Srenik. “And Srenik… Yudhishthira.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the names settled, layered with history, reverence, and controversy.

“Perfect name,” Niyati muttered under her breath as she heard Srenik’s code name.

“Thank you,” Srenik said lightly. “I’ll try to live up to it.”

“Just don’t follow the rules blindly like him,” she added, her tone pointed.

“Excuse me?” Srenik asked, arching a brow.

“Isn’t he responsible for Draupadi’s humiliation and abuse?” Niyati said, her voice steady but edged with restrained anger.

“Everyone warned him not to play. He knew the risks, yet he chose to play anyway. He lost everything. He could have walked away at any moment, but because of his so-called righteousness and blind obedience to rules, he stayed.”

Her gaze locked onto Srenik.

“Let me ask you something,” she continued. “He believed he upheld every rule and promise. Fine. But what about the promises he made to Draupadi at the time of their marriage?”

Her voice hardened, each word landing with precision.

“Wasn’t it his duty to protect her dignity, her self-respect, her safety?”

She paused, letting the weight of the question press down on the room.

“Or did he simply choose what was convenient for him?”

“What happened to Draupadi was unacceptable. Unforgivable,” Srenik said, his voice measured. “And yes, I agree he bears responsibility for what she went through. There’s no denying that, Niyati.”

He met her gaze steadily.

“But you have to understand one thing. He played the game as a king. He stood by what he believed in. The irony is, he is both praised for it and condemned because of it.”

“Another poetic excuse,” Niyati replied.

“Standing by what you believe in is admirable, but not when you follow those beliefs blindly, even when you know they’re causing more harm than good.”

Her gaze didn’t waver.

“He knew it was wrong. Every single one of them knew what was happening was terribly wrong. Yet they sat there like statues, hiding behind the promises they had made, while forgetting the very essence of dharma, of justice.”

“Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva,” Srenik said, his voice steady but edged with something darker. “They were warriors. They took pride in being so.”

He paused, then looked directly at her.

“But have you ever thought about what they went through when they witnessed their wife’s humiliation and abuse?”

His voice lowered.

“One was a king. One the greatest archer of his time. One unmatched in strength. Another a master swordsman. They were more than capable of protecting her.”

His jaw clenched.

“Yet they stood there, helpless. Bound by vows. Heads bowed. Trapped in their own inner conflict. Not because they lacked strength—but because they were imprisoned by the very ideals they lived by.”

The room remained silent, heavy with unspoken truths.

“Guys, this is getting off track,” Samira said calmly, her voice steady yet firm enough to cut through the rising tension. “Let’s focus on the case.”

Niyati opened her mouth to respond, irritation flashing in her eyes, but Samira raised a hand, stopping her before a word could escape.

“Not now, Niyati,” she said quietly, meeting her gaze with composed authority. “Let’s get back to the case.”

A brief silence followed before Viren cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Right. The case,” he began, his tone grave. “What you’re holding is information from our intelligence department regarding the Parallax Club. None of it has been verified yet. The officers assigned to confirm this information…” He paused, his expression hardening. “…are all dead.”

The room stiffened. Shoulders tensed, and even the faint hum of the air conditioner seemed louder, the air growing heavy as if pressing down on every breath.

Aryahi leaned forward slightly. “What information do we have so far?” she asked, her voice measured but tense.

“A lot, actually,” Viren replied, folding his hands on the table. “According to multiple sources, you can get any drug you want at the club. It’s allegedly a central hub. Distribution networks across the country operate from there.”

He paused, letting the weight of each revelation sink in.

“Arms deals. Human trafficking. Money laundering.” His gaze hardened. “And information.”

“Information?” Aryahi repeated, frowning.

“Yes,” Viren said quietly. “According to intelligence inputs, the Parallax Club is believed to be a marketplace for secrets. Anything you want to know. Developments within DRDO, ISRO, the Army, Navy, or Air Force, our classified operations, even foreign negotiations. If someone is willing to pay, they can get it.”

A heavy silence filled the room, the implications staggering. The weight of his words settled over them like a shadow.

“Oh my God,” Niyati murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s extremely dangerous.”

“Yes,” Viren agreed. “And what we have right now is only the tip of the iceberg. There is far more beneath the surface.”

His gaze moved slowly from one face to another.

“Go through the files thoroughly. Understand every detail. Think about how we can proceed. That’s all for today. We start fresh tomorrow morning, sharp at nine.”

The team nodded, though the tension remained etched across their expressions

“Sir,” Samira said after a brief hesitation, “could we meet tomorrow evening instead? My brother’s housewarming ceremony is in the morning.”

Viren considered her request for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. We’ll meet here at four p.m. tomorrow and discuss the plan of action.”

The team rose, gathering their files in silence, the magnitude of the case weighing heavily on their minds.

That night, the house lay wrapped in silence.

Aryahi moved through the dim corridors, securing doors and switching off lights. The stillness pressed against her senses, broken only by the soft click of locks and the whisper of her footsteps.

As she walked toward the terrace to close the final door, she noticed a shadow ahead.

Someone was sitting there.

She stepped closer.

Surya sat in an armchair, a can of beer resting loosely in his hand. He stared into the vast night sky, motionless, as if searching for something among the distant stars. Their faint glow reflected in his eyes, but his expression carried a quiet heaviness.

Aryahi walked over without a word and settled into the chair across from him. She picked up a can from the coffee table, opened it with a soft click, and took a slow sip, studying him quietly.

The night air was cool, carrying the distant hum of the city below.

“I’ve been noticing you, Surya,” she said at last, her voice gentle. “You’ve been distant these past few days. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

She tilted her head slightly. “And don’t give me the ‘I’m okay’ nonsense.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, though it held no real amusement.

“It’s just that…” he began, his voice strained. “I don’t deserve this.”

Aryahi frowned slightly. “I don’t quite follow,” she said quietly.

Surya leaned back into the armchair, his gaze drifting upward toward the star-filled sky.

“I’m different, Aryahi. I’m not the person you see now. I did things in the past.” His voice faltered. “I buried them. Tried to forget. But the past always comes back when you least expect it.”

His words grew quieter, heavy with unspoken regret.

“I don’t deserve the fondness, the trust, the respect you, Samira, and Niyati show me.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes glistening in the pale moonlight.

“I don’t deserve you. Any of you,” he whispered.

Aryahi leaned forward and gently took his hand in hers, her touch warm and steady.

“Everyone has parts of their past they’re not proud of, Surya,” she said softly. “That’s part of being human. We make mistakes. But those mistakes don’t get to define who you are now.”

She squeezed his hand, her voice steady with conviction.

“And don’t you dare think you don’t deserve our trust or respect. You do. In fact, you deserve it more than you realize.”
A quiet certainty filled her voice.

Surya looked at her, something fragile softening in his expression.

“Thank you,” he said, managing a small smile, though unshed tears still shimmered in his eyes. “That means a lot… especially coming from you, Aryahi.”

Aryahi’s lips curved into a warm, reassuring smile, her grip on his hand tightening slightly.

“You know this, right?” she continued gently. “We’re always here. Whenever you want to talk. Anytime.”

He nodded slowly, the heaviness in his chest easing, if only slightly, as the quiet night stretched around them, holding their unspoken truths beneath the endless sky.