The year was 2012. The shopping mall was alive with the chatter of families, the laughter of children, and the hum of activity. Vishal, a lively five-year-old, was walking hand-in-hand with his mother, while his father and older sister, Riya, strolled beside them. The family had decided to spend the weekend together, relishing the joy of simply being close.
The air was filled with the aroma of fresh pretzels and popcorn, and shops gleamed with enticing displays. Riya, 12 years old, nudged Vishal as they passed a toy store.
"Look, Vishal! It's the robot you wanted!" she teased, pointing at a brightly colored action figure in the window.
"I don't need it!" Vishal said proudly, puffing out his tiny chest. "I'm already strong like a robot!"
Their mother laughed. "Alright, Mr. Robot, how about some ice cream after we’re done shopping?"
“Yes!” Vishal cheered, skipping along happily.
But their carefree moment was shattered in an instant.
Suddenly, a deafening bang echoed through the mall as masked men burst through the main entrance. Gunfire rattled, sending bullets into the air. The cheerful hum turned into a cacophony of screams as people scrambled for cover.
"Everyone, get down! On your knees!" a commanding voice roared.
Panic spread like wildfire. Vishal’s parents instinctively shielded their children, pushing them toward the center of the mall. "Stay low! Don’t move!" his father whispered urgently. But in the chaos, the family became separated. His parents were forced toward the front of the crowd, while Vishal and Riya remained near the center.
Vishal clung to Riya, his small hands trembling. "Didi, what's happening?"
"Shh, stay close to me," Riya whispered, her voice quivering as she hugged him tightly.
Minutes felt like hours as the masked men took control of the mall. Their leader, a tall figure with a deep, menacing voice, stepped forward.
"Nobody move, or you'll regret it!" he bellowed, firing another shot into the ceiling. The sound echoed, silencing the terrified crowd.
The police sirens wailed in the distance, offering a glimmer of hope to the hostages. But the masked men seemed unfazed. They spoke in hushed tones, pointing toward the sandwich shop at the corner of the mall. One of them began assembling a strange device, its metallic components clicking ominously into place.
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The leader gestured to one of his men, who donned an advanced-looking pair of glasses. The lenses glowed faintly as he scanned the crowd, his gaze locking onto children.
“We need a vessel,” he said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.
The man with the glasses stopped when his gaze landed on Vishal.
“This one,” he said, pointing directly at the boy.
“No!” Riya cried, pulling Vishal closer.
“Separate the adults and children!” the leader ordered. “Adults to the left, children to the right. Move!”
Terror-stricken, the hostages obeyed. Parents clung desperately to their children, only to be ripped apart by the masked men. Vishal’s parents tried to push through the crowd toward their children, but the chaos was too thick.
When one of the masked men grabbed Vishal, his father erupted. “Let go of my son!” he shouted, lunging forward.
“Please, he’s just a child!” his mother pleaded, falling to her knees.
The leader scowled, raising his gun. “One more word, and you both die.”
But Vishal’s parents couldn’t stay silent. “Leave him alone, please!” his mother begged again.
The sound of the gunshot was deafening. Both parents collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
Riya froze in shock, unable to process what had just happened. Her parents—gone. Vishal burst into tears, struggling against the man holding him.
“Mom! Dad!” he wailed.
The leader sneered. “Shut him up.”
Another masked man stepped forward, pulling out a syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid. He plunged it into Vishal’s arm without hesitation. The boy’s cries faded as his body went limp, his small form falling unconscious.
Riya screamed. “What did you do to him?!”
The leader ignored her, barking orders to his team. “Secure the device. We’re out of time.”
Smoke suddenly filled the room as military-grade canisters rolled across the floor. The air became thick and suffocating, blurring visibility. From outside, the sound of boots hitting the ground signaled the arrival of a tactical team.