The storage room door wasn’t locked.
That fact alone sent a shiver down my spine. Something was wrong—no, not just with the room, but with the entire school. Yesterday, the school opened late, and no one batted an eye when I talked to Ayaan during class. Today, I walked out without any resistance, and when I reached the phone locker, it opened on the first try. It was all too easy.
None of this was my doing. It was as if the entire day had been orchestrated by a third party, in collaboration with the school. But why? Why open the school late? Why had the teacher not noticed me? What could have gone wrong if she had scolded me? The locker, I understood—it was to prevent delays in whatever they had planned. But everything else remained a mystery.
Wait… Ayaan. The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. What if they've already gotten to him? If they could manipulate an entire school, reaching Ayaan would be easy. My chest tightened at the idea of him being in danger because of me. Stay with him or confront the mastermind? The decision gnawed at me, every second feeling like a lifetime. But if I could stop the mastermind, maybe I could protect Ayaan—maybe I could end this madness. “If you can get rid of the mastermind, everything will be fine,” my inner voice insisted, barely masking the fear beneath it. “So, let’s go,” I muttered, forcing my feet to move, even as doubt clawed at me.
As I stepped into the room, the light behind me vanished as the door creaked shut, plunging the room into darkness. The air grew thick with tension. I’d never been inside this storage room before—students weren’t usually allowed in. Each step I took felt heavier, the floor sloping downward ever so slightly, leading me further into what I soon realized was an underground basement.
The stairwell appeared ahead, barely visible in the suffocating darkness. What kind of school has a basement like this? And why had it been left to rot, judging by the dust and cobwebs everywhere? It looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. But why?
CRASH!
I froze. The unmistakable sound of glass shattering echoed through the dark. My pulse quickened, but I couldn’t see a thing. It must’ve been a beaker or a flask, probably some old chemistry equipment. I wanted to investigate the source, but the room was so packed with forgotten relics of the school that I’d probably knock something over with every step.
Ignoring the noise felt safer. Instead, I moved toward the basement stairs, descending carefully. Halfway down, I realized something embarrassing—I had my phone with me the whole time. Why hadn’t I thought of the flashlight earlier? I pulled it out and flicked on the light.
At the bottom of the stairs, the light from my phone revealed a faintly lit tunnel ahead. Dim lights were embedded along the edges, casting a sickly yellow glow. As I inspected my surroundings, a voice echoed through the tunnel.
"Welcome, Vyom, to the underworld."
I rolled my eyes. "Really?" I called back, my voice bouncing off the walls. "You lured a high schooler underground just for a lame 'underworld' joke? That's the best you've got?"
Her response was sharp and immediate. "I’ll kill you, you damn brat! Watch your attitude!"
The sound of heels clicking on the stone floor reverberated through the tunnel. My heart raced as the silhouette of a woman emerged from the shadows. As she stepped into the light, I took her in—a tall, pale woman in a pitch-black dress, her long dark hair cascading down her back. Her heels were sharp, and in her hand, she held a black whip.
I swallowed hard, suddenly regretting my earlier sarcasm. "Nice… whip," I offered, immediately wishing I hadn’t. "Uh, sorry about before."
She eyed me, unimpressed. "You’ve read the message, then?" Her voice was cold. "Tell me the code you received."
Code? What code? The message had only said, "You’ll face consequences for the message you’ve sent. If you want your friends alive, follow these steps and meet with me." At the end of it was that strange name: Null.
"I didn’t get any code," I said slowly. "Just a message about consequences and some weird signature—‘Null.’"
She scoffed. "I heard Vyom was the one who took down our human trafficking portal. The same portal that even law enforcement agencies couldn’t crack. I wanted to see your skills for myself, but here you are, babbling like an amateur who doesn't even grasp the basics of programming. You can’t be the one who did it."
"Programming basics?" My mind raced. Was she testing me? Mocking me? I couldn’t afford to misstep. Think, Vyom, think! "Null…" The word echoed in my head, and suddenly, it clicked—like a puzzle piece snapping into place. "Null. In programming, ‘Null’ represents nothing—something undefined, something that can be manipulated. Could it be…"
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. "'Nothing has to change.' That’s the code, right Mrs. Lady Black?"
Her gaze turned icy. "I have a name. It’s Valentina Dragovich, you damn brat." She snapped the whip against the ground, the crack echoing through the tunnel. "And you’re wrong."
As soon as she told me I was wrong, a rush of anxiety flooded my system. Had I missed something crucial? My mind raced, diving into patterns, programming languages, cryptographic equations—everything that could lead me to the correct answer. We hackers don’t fight with guns, fists, or tanks. Our battlefield is the digital realm, and our greatest weapon is technology. Wait... technology—that's it! If I’m facing the mastermind of a criminal organization, I need my weapon, and in this case, it’s...
"Phone—it's the phone! That’s the code, right?" I blurted out, piecing it together as I spoke.
“Bingo,” Valentina said, a twisted smirk playing on her lips. “I can’t believe it took you that long to solve such a simple piece of code.” Her voice dripped with condescension.
Her words hit my pride like a sledgehammer. My chest tightened with frustration, my ego bruised. But instead of breaking me, it sharpened my resolve. I wouldn't lose to them—not now, not ever.
"Follow me, and try your best not to get lost," she said, taking the lead.
"Who’s going to get lost in a straight tunnel, knucklehead," I muttered under my breath.
She shot a sharp glance over her shoulder. "What did you just say?"
"N-nothing! I was just saying how beautiful you look," I stammered, trying to cover up my slip-up.
"Oh!" Her voice softened, sounding almost pleased. "Thank you."
As we continued walking, my mind was racing with questions I desperately needed answers to. "How do you know my name? How do you know about my friends? Why did you kidnap Aaravi? How much more do you know about us?" I asked, firing off question after question.
She remained silent, her heels clicking against the ground as tension simmered in the air. The deeper we went, the more I felt like I was about to confront something far bigger than I'd ever imagined—like I was walking straight into the lion’s den of a mafia.
The tunnel branched into several routes, each one dark and foreboding. My heart pounded as I tried to remember the way back, just in case. "These are all government-affiliated networks," Valentina said, gesturing toward the thick fiber optic cables that lined the walls. "See these cables? They carry information from all around the world, not just within our country. Our organization’s boss has found a way to tap into them, so we can monitor any activity we want. Somehow, the government hasn't caught on yet. And that, Vyom, answers every question you asked."
I could feel my eyes nearly bulging out of my head. This was insane. How could the government not have noticed? Why hadn’t they fixed it yet? How could these people move so freely without being caught? Everything I thought I knew about power and control was being rewritten in front of me.
"Aren't you afraid of the Three Seats of Power?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around the audacity of their operations.
Valentina scoffed lightly. "Afraid? Of them? Why would we be? I told you, our boss runs the entire—"
Before she could finish, a rough male voice interrupted, cutting through the air like a blade. "Welcome, Valentina. It seems you've done your job well once again, but I suggest you keep your mouth shut about our boss's personal details. That information is confidential."
Valentina visibly tensed, her earlier confidence evaporating. She broke into a sweat and immediately bowed her head. "Apologies, sir. May we come in?"
I stood there, dumbfounded, staring at a blank wall in front of us. Whoever this man was, he had Valentina shaking in her heels. If she was that terrified, I could only imagine how dangerous this boss of theirs really was.
The man remained out of sight, but his presence loomed heavy in the air. It was as if the tunnel itself had suddenly closed in around us. This was no ordinary criminal operation—this was something much bigger, something far more sinister. And I had just walked straight into its depths.
As she requested permission to let us in, the wall slowly began to shift, revealing a room that shouldn't have existed in a tunnel like this. It wasn’t a dungeon as I first assumed—instead, I found myself more confused than before. The room was a high-tech sanctuary, far from the grimy, underground passageway we had just been in.
Directly in front of us was a stage with a golden throne-like chair, padded with deep red cushions. To either side of the room, two counters were equipped with beastly computer systems, humming with power. The space was packed with over fifty gangsters, each one more menacing than the last.
At the center of it all stood a brown man on the stage. He wore a white shirt with the top three buttons casually undone, a slim gold chain resting around his neck. His wrist sported a royal silver watch, and he paired it all with black pants and sleek, polished black shoes. His brown skin caught the light as he raised his arms, commanding attention from everyone in the room.
"Hello, and welcome, my dear friend," he called out, his voice rich and powerful. "My name is Nikolai Vasiliev, and I present to you a new experimental product."
As he made the announcement, the big screen on the stage split into two, revealing a girl tied to a chair. My breath hitched, and fury surged through me at the sight—it was Aaravi.
"SHE ISN’T YOUR EXPERIMENTAL PRODUCT, YOU DAMN BASTARD!" I shouted, my voice shaking with rage.
"It’s not your place to—" Aaravi started, but before she could finish, that damn Nikolai taped her mouth shut.
I tried to make sense of it all, but the chaos in my head only grew louder. Aaravi’s muffled cries, Nikolai’s smug grin, the taunts of the gangsters—it was all blending together, raising my anger to a boiling point.
Nikolai turned to me, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. "Step onto the stage, Vyom. It’s time to see what you’re really made of."
I hesitated only for a moment, then followed through because that's what I wanted ...
"Don't worry my little friend, we ain’t gonna cut you, neither gonna beat you to death. I heard you're a hacker, and by coincidence, I'm one too. So let's have a CTF competition. Whosoever hunts the most bugs in the system presented will win the game," he offered.
Something was off. Why would he challenge me like this unless… he had something up his sleeve? But my rage didn’t let me think it logically through, and I accepted his deal without even listening to the whole part.
"But there is a condition," he said.
"Condition—" I started.
"No, no little buddy. A deal is a deal. That was your fault for not listening to the whole thing first," he said, strongly.
"So the condition is, if I hunt a greater number of bugs than you, then the difference in our numbers will be the number in which this girl will get cut. And if you win, you both can escape safe and sound—we will never hunt you or your friends again."
My blood ran cold, but I forced myself to stay calm. I stayed quiet, frozen for a moment, but confident in my skills. I moved closer to Aaravi and whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, we're getting out of here safe and sound."
The man on stage pointed to the two computer systems. "You can choose either system, and you’re free to check if the programs are the same. Report any unfairness before the competition begins, but once it starts, no complaints."
I scanned both systems, ensuring there were no hidden cheats or traps. The code seemed clean—surprisingly fair. But fair didn’t make it any less terrifying. I wasn’t facing some simple script kiddie. This was high stakes. I was fighting not just for my life, but for Aaravi’s as well.
On the big screen, yellowish-white text appeared on a black background with faded white sparkles:
- "Let the Game of Death Begin"
- "Consists of 1 round"
- "Whoever wins will have complete control over the loser’s life and the people in it."
- "Time: 1 hour"
- "LET'S GO!"
I sat down in front of the monitor, every muscle in my body tense as I dove into the code. Aaravi's terrified face was imprinted in my mind, burning there like a brand. Every blink brought her image back—a fresh flash of her helpless eyes, the blood, the panic. My hands clenched into fists.
"I won’t forgive them," I growled internally, fury boiling in my veins. How could they do this to her? To us? Rage twisted inside me, growing hotter with every second. My pulse pounded in my ears, each beat a reminder of the time slipping away.
I hammered at the keys, forcing myself to focus, but the anger wouldn’t settle. It throbbed like a second heartbeat, making me reckless. I glanced at the timer on the screen—precious minutes had already slipped through my fingers, wasted on my boiling thoughts. "Dammit!" My teeth ground together as frustration built. I had to calm down. For her. For me. But the more I tried, the more it felt like I was sinking, drowning in the pressure.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Every failure echoed louder in my head. Every wrong query felt like a punch to the gut. "Focus," I told myself again, my breath coming fast, too fast. But how could I focus when all I saw was them taking everything from me—her life slipping away because I couldn’t keep my head cool?
The timer was ticking. "I can’t afford to waste any more time!" I muttered, knowing I had already burned 30 minutes, distracted by my own rage. But luckily, the score was still 0-0—both of us hunting for vulnerabilities, neither of us making progress. That was about to change.
I honed in on the application in front of me, searching for an opening. And then I spotted it—an input field, that could be vulnerable to an injection attack. My heart raced. "Alright, let’s test this."
"SQL Injection: ‘UNION SELECT’!" I whispered under my breath, like a warrior calling out his next strike. I entered the query:
```
UNION SELECT null, null, null --
```
But nothing. The system held firm. I gritted my teeth.
"XSS Payload: 'Alert Pop!'!" I whispered again, typing:
```
```
Again, nothing. I didn't excpect this traditional query to work either. "But,Damn it!" I spat, feeling the seconds slip away like sand through my fingers.
I quickly shifted gears, looking for a less obvious flaw. "URL tampering—attack sequence, initiate!" I tried manipulating the URLs, throwing in encoded parameters:
```
../admin_panel
```
Still, nothing. My palms were slick with sweat. Panic started clawing at me. "How… How could they cover everything?!"
I pounded the keys furiously, trying more advanced techniques. I attempted a **blind XSS attack**, injecting:
```
onerror=alert(document.cookie)
```
But the system was locked down tight. "Thirty minutes wasted, and I have nothing!"
And then, I saw it—something subtle but exploitable. It was a memory allocation vulnerability. My mind raced as I recognized the flaw.
"Buffer Overflow!" I announced, my heart pounding. My fingers flew over the keys, injecting the code:
```
char buffer[8];
strcpy(buffer, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA");
```
The buffer overflowed, spilling over into neighboring memory. I had found my way in.
I hit 'submit,' feeling a surge of adrenaline as the scoreboard updated. But my victory was short-lived. The score flashed on the screen—**24 to 1**. I blinked, staring in disbelief.
"Time remaining: 5 seconds."
I wasted my last precious moments just staring at that damn score.
Nikolai’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Alright, I win,” he announced, smugness dripping from every word. His grin, that horrible, self-satisfied grin, ripped through me, cutting deeper than any weapon ever could. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t move. My mind was blank—just a void of disbelief and failure. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t wipe them away. They weren’t just tears of defeat—they were tears of rage, frustration, shame. Everything I had worked for, all the skills I had spent years honing, had failed me in the most crucial moment. I could barely process it. Aaravi’s life was hanging by a thread, and I was the one who let it slip from my grasp. I was no match for them.
I cried and cried, unable to stop, my mind a whirlpool of despair. Slowly, through blurred vision, I looked over at Aaravi, tied to that chair, terrified. My heart skipped a beat, the reality crashing down on me like a tidal wave. "What the hell am I going to do? Is she really going to die… because I messed up? Really?!"
Nikolai laughed maniacally, his voice booming through the room. "Now, shall we cut her into 23 pieces?" he sneered, reveling in my misery. His laughter echoed in my ears, drowning out my thoughts, amplifying the horror of what was about to happen.
"Well, well,” Nikolai’s voice oozed through the room, dripping with venomous satisfaction. “I must say, your bravery is almost... commendable.” He surveyed me, like a predator admiring its prey’s last, futile struggle. “After all, you did manage to find one vulnerability. Impressive, truly, for an outsider—especially one as young and... inexperienced as you.” He paused, letting the silence crush me further, savoring my despair. “But I’m a reasonable man. Instead of cutting her into 23 pieces, I’ll show you mercy. You get to choose how she dies. It’s only fair, don’t you think?"
My hands began to shake uncontrollably. He untaped Aaravi, and she immediately turned to me. "This isn’t your fault," she began, her voice soft and pained. "This wasn’t your battle to begin with—"
"Shut up, damn girl!" Nikolai roared, slapping her hard across the face. Red fury clouded my vision as I lost all sense of control. Before I knew it, I was charging at him, fists clenched, ready to smash his face in. But before I could reach him, one of the gangsters from the crowd stepped forward and grabbed me. He lifted me off the ground effortlessly, as if I were nothing more than a feather.
"You have five seconds to choose," Nikolai sneered, starting the countdown as if he were relishing every moment of my torment. "Or the crowd will decide for you... Five... four..." His voice echoed in the room like a death knell.
That gangster put me down standing at my back so I won't make that move again.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I just stood there, trembling, tears streaming down my face.
"...Two... one. Time's up. Crowd, what’s your choice?" Nikolai bellowed.
The crowd erupted in unison, shouting, "Cut! Cut! Cut!"
My breath caught as the blade came down, its metallic glint flashing in the dim light before it struck. A scream tore through the room, the sound ricocheting off the walls. My clothes felt damp, but I couldn't register why. For a split second, my heart stopped, my vision blurred, and I couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Everything slowed to a crawl. And then, the sound—the hollow thud of something heavy falling—rang in my ears, in sync with the pounding of my own heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I stood there, frozen, my legs like stone. I watched in horror as something slid across the floor, coming to a stop at my feet. Her lifeless eyes stared straight up at me. I staggered, barely holding myself upright as a wave of nausea hit me. It was the nightmare from the classroom... but this time, it was real.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to move. But I couldn't. I was trapped in my own body, suffocating in a silence so thick it drowned out everything else. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably, my knees weak. The rage that had fueled me, the anger that had pushed me forward—it was gone. All that was left was a hollow pit in my chest, an emptiness that consumed me whole.
I stumbled backward, falling to my knees. I could feel myself slipping, my mind teetering on the edge. I stared at her—at what was left of her—as everything inside me broke apart. The fog of despair swirled around me, thickening, choking me.
"I had failed her."
"Have you called them, Valentina?" he asked.
"Yes, boss," she replied.
I was too lost in my suffering to register what they were saying or doing. It all blurred together—the words, the movements.
"Pack everything up," he ordered his men.
They somehow managed to gather up every trace from the room, though I couldn’t bring myself to notice how. The only thing that stood out, the one memory seared into my mind, was when Nikolai turned to me just before leaving. He uttered two words that still send chills down my spine: "Hello, World."
The frustration surged in me like a storm. I grabbed the knife lying beside Aaravi's head and charged at Nikolai. But just as I reached her body, I heard the sound of running footsteps. My head snapped toward the entrance, and there they were—police officers. The scene was damning. It looked like I had killed Aaravi.
"I-It wasn't me! It was them!" I stammered, pointing towards Nikolai, but he was gone. He had vanished, leaving me with the blame.
I knew talking wouldn’t get me out of this mess. I had no choice but to run. Without thinking, I sprinted towards the exit Nikolai had used, my mind a storm of rage and frustration. "Sorry... sorry... I'm sorry, Aaravi," I muttered under my breath, tears streaming down my face like the skies had opened to let loose a storm of sorrow.
My eyes blurred with tears, jaws clenched tight, I ran on instinct. I must have bumped into someone, but I didn’t even stop to look. I just kept running.
Eventually, I made it outside. The dungeon-like cave spit me out into the pouring rain. It was nighttime now. The rain came down in heavy sheets, soaking me instantly. To my left, I saw the dark silhouette of a forest at the base of a mountain. Without hesitation, I darted towards it, hoping to find cover, at least for now.
I ran into the forest, saw a narrow path leading up a steep hill, and decided to climb it. The rain poured down hard, and the night felt heavier with each passing minute. I hoped that if I could reach the top and hide in the thick bushes covering the hill, I could at least make it through the night.
Reaching the top, I found a tree to the left and decided to rest under it. The rain beat against the leaves as I slumped to the ground, trying to catch my breath. As I rested, a shadow appeared behind me. A flash of movement made me instinctively think of the knife. I tried to bolt, but the person lashed out, pain flaring in my right arm. With the ground slippery from the rain, I lost my footing and crashed hard on my back. Dazed, I felt the person pin me down, and as I looked up, I froze in shock.
It was Ayaan—his eyes wild, his hand trembling.
Before I could say anything, Ayaan spoke, his voice trembling with rage, tears streaming down his face. "How could you kill Aaravi?"
"I—I didn't," I said in a slow, exhausted voice. "You know I couldn't."
"Don't lie, you bastard!" he shouted, his grip tightening on the handle of the knife. "I saw it... you were holding the knife!"
"No! That was a setup. Believe me!" I pleaded desperately.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could leave his lips, a loud crack echoed through the rain-soaked night. Ayaan stiffened, then collapsed on top of me, his body suddenly limp.
I stared up at the sky in shock, my mind frozen in disbelief. "Wh—what... whaa—whaaaaaaatttt!" I cried out, my voice breaking. Gripping Ayaan’s lifeless body as tightly as I could, I held him close, the weight of everything crashing down on me.
I heard voices approaching—probably the police. Panic surged through me. Without thinking, I bolted from that place too, my legs moving on instinct, desperate to escape.
"Why… why did they both have to die?" The words slipped out, a pathetic whimper in the storm of my thoughts. My voice, already broken, barely clung to its strength as I stumbled through the corridors, the world around me dissolving into shadows, rain, and pain. I was a shell, moving on instinct, while inside, everything had shattered. Every ounce of confidence, every shred of hope, was obliterated. All that remained was a hollow ache—a sharp, unbearable reminder of how utterly I had failed. Each step was heavier than the last, dragging me deeper into a pit of despair I couldn’t escape.
Flashes of Aaravi's lifeless eyes haunted my thoughts. The sight of Ayaan’s body crumpling in front of me haunted me just as fiercely. His final gasp echoed in my ears, mingling with the cold silence that now seemed to follow me.
I was trapped in this torment. A never-ending cycle of failure—of watching the people I cared for be torn away from me, over and over again. I clutched my aching hand, the pain insignificant compared to the storm raging inside my chest. I couldn’t outrun the memories, no matter how fast I stumbled through the darkness, seeking refuge where there was none.
My heart screamed for them, for what I had lost, but no answer came. Only emptiness. I wandered aimlessly until I found a cave—a hollow, cold refuge that mirrored the void inside me. I crawled into its depths, desperate for some form of escape, praying the night would swallow me whole.
Eventually, the sun rose, casting a dull light over the land as I heard distant voices echoing from behind the hill. Curiosity and a sense of dread pulled me toward the noise. As I moved closer, I realized that the hill overlooked the city—my city. The voices grew louder, a chaotic chorus of outrage and grief. People were protesting for Aaravi, demanding justice.
But as I looked down at the countless faces gathered below, my stomach churned. These were the same people who never gave a damn about her when she was alive. Now, they mourned a girl they never knew, a girl they labeled me the murderer of.
I stood on the hill, staring down at the city sprawled below. Shops and houses of various colors filled the streets, some bright and bold, others more muted, blending into the landscape. Tall buildings towered over the smaller homes, and far away, I could make out a few mansions guarded by black and gold gates. Everything looked so... normal. No "cyberpunk" future here.
It's not that we lacked the capability. Our technology was advanced enough, capable of pulling off the kind of feats people once dreamed of. But after AI nearly destroyed us, humanity became cautious. We pulled back, reined in our ambitions, became deliberate with every step forward. The risk was too great to let things spiral out of control again.
As I stared at the city, I found myself thinking about that past—the world's past, not mine. I needed to focus on anything other than the memories that were clawing at my mind. Anything to keep myself from facing what I had lost.
As I was lost in the sight of the city below, my thoughts swirling, a rough, mature voice shattered the silence. "Enjoying the view from up here, son?" the voice said. I turned to see an old man emerging from the forest on the hill.
He had a thick, white beard and a few strands of white hair that barely clung to his scalp. Despite his age, his posture was straight, and his body still held a solid, bulked frame that hinted at years of hard work. He was dressed in a black suit and matching pants, an odd sight for this early in the morning. It seemed that even now, in his advanced years, he was still working tirelessly.
"Enjoying, huh? What do you know, old man?" I muttered, my voice filled with bitterness. "Can't you see the blood? My right hand is still cut open."
The old man didn’t flinch. "I've noticed the blood... and your right hand, Vyom," he said calmly.
I shot him a look, my mind buzzing with suspicion. "Despite your old age, you’ve got quite the sharp hearing," I remarked, half-expecting him to be just another passerby. But there was something about him that felt different.
"Wait... how do you—" I started, but before I could finish, the old man cut me off.
"Your name... your story, they’ve reached certain ears," he said, his voice calm, yet weighted with an unsettling certainty. "I know more about you than you realize, from where you’ve been to where you’re headed. But trust me, suspicion is unnecessary. I’m not your enemy—nor am I aligned with the ones who just tried to break you."
His calm explanation caught me off guard, but I kept my eyes on him, unsure whether to trust his words.
“Well then... why are you here?” I asked the old man, my voice wavering as a wave of dizziness began to hit me. I struggled to keep my eyes open, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. My right hand throbbed painfully, the open wound still bleeding, a reminder of how much blood I’d already lost.
As the dizziness overwhelmed me, my legs gave way, and I felt myself begin to fall. Before I could hit the ground, the old man caught me, his hands surprisingly firm yet gentle. Darkness quickly swallowed my vision, and I drifted into unconsciousness.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on a rough but comfortable surface. I blinked, disoriented, taking in the rustic wooden walls around me. Confusion clouded my mind until I heard the old man’s voice.
“It’s my treehouse,” he said calmly, standing nearby with his hands clasped behind his back, watching me with a steady gaze
"I want you to join my Academy, to reshape the world", does that answers your question from before
"Why? Why me?" I asked, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. "How could a loser like me reshape this whole world? All these ideals you're talking about—they sound noble, but when faced with reality, they're just hollow words."
I felt the despair sink deeper into my bones, my breaths growing ragged. "I lost everything in that battle... utterly. I can’t even bring myself to face a computer screen anymore. My one true skill—the only thing I was ever good at—is gone. And now, every time I look at my phone, all I see are Ayaan and Aaravi's last moments. Their deaths... both of them... because of me."
I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of guilt thick on my tongue. "How can you ask me to change anything when I couldn't even save them?"
"So," the old man said, his tone calm yet piercing, "what kind of life do you want to live from now on? And remember, you're not allowed to die. Every time you make an attempt, the mafia will ensure something happens to keep you alive."
I blinked, my mind struggling to process his words. "W-What? What are you saying?" I stammered, panic creeping into my voice. "Why... why would they do that? Why would they want me alive after everything?"
"Just like programming has rules built into it from the moment it's created, you've been assigned a rule from birth," the old man said, his voice strong and unwavering. It left no room for argument, no room for doubt. I couldn’t resist or even question him.
"Fine," I replied, my voice shaky but determined. "I’ll just live a normal life then. No more getting involved in this mess. The police didn’t capture my face, and only a few officers saw me for a moment. They won’t be able to draw a sketch from that. If I change my name, I could disappear—live like everyone else."
The old man’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning sharp. "So you’ve given up on your friends’ wishes? People, when faced with desperate situations,they act rather than think, Vyom. You’re just another victim of that human psychology." His words cut through me, raw and piercing. "Don’t you want to know why a girl who could never be controlled suddenly sat helpless, tied to a chair? Why a friend who could read your face like an open book didn’t believe you in the end? Don’t you want to know, Vyom?"
His voice thundered with intensity, and for the first time in a while, I stopped, really stopped, to think. He was right. I had been so blinded by sorrow, so consumed by rage and grief, that I hadn’t even considered those questions. Aaravi... she said something before... 'This isn’t your battle.' What did she mean? What’s really going on here? Something much bigger was at play than I had realized.
"I want to know, I want to know!" I cried out. But then doubt crept in, dragging me back into that pit of despair. "But… how can I? How can someone like me? A loser… I have no skills, nothing left. The one thing I thought I was good at… even that’s gone. I’m just… useless."
The weight of my own words sank into me, threatening to drown me in sorrow once again.
"Excuses sound best to the one making them," the old man’s voice cut through the fog in my mind, sharp and unrelenting. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Vyom! Wake up! Awaken the beast that lies inside you. It's GO season, VYOM!"
His words pierced through the darkness like a blade, igniting something deep within. My heart raced, and suddenly, my mouth spoke on its own, fueled by a fire I hadn’t felt before.
"Show me!" I shouted, my voice trembling with resolve. "Tell me the way to the top of this world, so I can bring everything crashing down!"
Flashes of Aaravi’s and Ayaan’s faces flickered in my mind, but this time, I wasn’t consumed by sorrow. No. This time, I was burning—burning with the desire to destroy those who had taken them from me.