Dashami, the tenth day of the Vedic calendar was coming to an end, the sun setting, dusk covering the land. Yet, it was but a beginning. The beginning of the climax to the nation-wide celebration of the triumph of the forces of good over evil.

In the eastern parts of India, it was represented by the victory of Devi Durga over Mahishasura, in the northern and western states, the day was called Dussehra and celebrated the victory of Lord Rama, an incarnation of one of the Vedic Trinity: Lord Vishnu, over the Asura: Ravana.

Ravana, as per the epic Ramayana, was the Ruler of the ancient state of Lanka and one of the most powerful demons in the entirety of Hindu lore. He had ten heads and four arms, each head representing one of the ten Vedic texts, denoting his great learning. His four hands held powerful weapons, denoting his martial might; one of them the divine sword Chandrahaas (smile of the moon) granted to him by Lord Shiva, of whom he was the greatest devotee.

His rise was, once again, a case of Lord Brahma being too generous with his boons. Impressed by his long and arduous penance and ascetism, he was granted a boon by the Creator of All. Ravana asked for immortality, which Brahma refused to give; in place of this, he asked for absolute invulnerability from and supremacy over gods, heavenly spirits, other rakshasas, serpents, and wild beasts. Contemptuous of mortal men, he did not ask for protection from these. Brahma granted him these boons in addition to his ten severed heads and great strength by way of knowledge of divine weapons and magic.

The familiar story of conquest and carnage played out among the Three Realms and soon, he had become the Supreme Ruler; the Devas and all of creation his slaves.

Ravana made the mistake of abducting the wife of the mortal reincarnation of Lord Vishnu, Rama, to retaliate against Laxman, Rama’s brother, who had insulted his sister, thereby shouldering his enmity and finally, resulting in his demise at the hands of the mortal who had rediscovered his Divinity, wielding weapons no mere man could bear to hold.

Huge straw effigies of the Ten headed Rakshasa were burnt in celebration of his perishing all over Northern and Western India.

Dashami, Dussehra, Dashain… it was a day of celebration. A day celebrating the victory of good over evil. It was also the day the world was introduced to the forces of evil that lurked in the shadows of society. The day everything changed.

Aman stood atop the familiar rooftop of the apartment he had first scouted the pandal from. A light breeze ruffled his hair. The stakeout on Navami had been a bust. Only one hooded man had turned up and delved into the sewers, puttered about for a few minutes and then left.

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Tracking the man had brought them to the entrance of the Black Market. Sushil had decided to let the man go. Capturing the small fries would do his investigation no good and expose his presence. He wanted to wait until the big man, Raunak Bose, himself made his move.

It was the final day of the Puja, if whatever plans Raunak Bose had devised involved the Puja, he would act this day.

Although Aman hadn’t been invited to the raid, he had decided to spectate with Divine Vision.

If mere speculation could get him a technique as useful as Divine Vision, then what could he learn by observing and emulating a confrontation between real Genetic Experts?

His eyes flashed with an obscure glow and he had a snapshot of the world in 4D on a mental screen in front of him. Scrutinizing it he could make out the forms of Sushil and Ananya’s chauffeur. They were hanging around the food stalls in casual clothes. As for the bunker, it was still devoid of people.

The roof was used for drying clothes and there were clotheslines crisscrossing the area. Aman inverted a bucket he found in one corner and sat down upon it, using it as a makeshift stool.

He pulled up another bucket and said, “Take a seat.”

Ananya, who had been staring out at the roads teeming with people with her arms crossed, shot a glance at the proffered seat, then at him. She walked over and moved the bucket away with her foot, then adjusting her skirt with her hands, sat down facing the railing.

Silence.

Aman awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and said, “I’m sorry, you know?”

She sighed and turned to him, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her interlaced fingers. “For what?” she asked with a blank face.

“Y’know…”

“Look,” she said, straightening up, “It’s fine. Just a bit of rudeness. I’m over it. Specially now that my incompetence has been proven. My worth, it seems, is as a key to accessing Adhikari resources. Even today, Uncle is the one doing the actual work while I benefit off him risking his life in the sewers as I look on from a ‘safe’ spot.” She turned to look at the pandal again, a frown marring her brows.

Recovering, she turned and gave him a genuine smile, “Congratulations, by the way. Your success was splendid.” He could see the poorly hidden frustration in her eyes.

“Well…” Aman didn’t know what to say in reply so he kept shut, turning to look at the pandal too.

Suddenly, their phones beeped simultaneously and they pulled them out. Opening up the mapping app, they noticed three glowing red dots on the screen.

It was the entrance to the three tunnels that led to the bunker. The red dots meant that someone had breached the manhole and entered the tunnels, setting off the pressure sensors. The dots blinked eleven times in quick succession, the ones representing two tunnels blinking thrice and the final tunnel, four times.

Very soon, messages from Sushil and the chauffeur pinged on their phones. “Stay put.” A quick scan with Divine Vision showed that the two men were on the move.

It seemed that it was time for action.