As he trudged along the dusty roadside, Ceres spotted a ramshackle stall selling what passed for coffee. He approached, hoping for a small reprieve from the relentless sun, which felt like needles on his half-closed eyes. With a resigned sigh, he handed over some coins to the vendor, who grunted in acknowledgment. The resulting beverage looked suspiciously like murky swamp water, but he accepted it nonetheless, craving the caffeine jolt it promised.

The bitter liquid scorched his throat as he took a cautious sip, leaving a foul taste that lingered like a curse. Yet, despite its unpleasantness, it served its purpose: keeping him awake, and distracting him momentarily from his worries about Udit. The men who’d caused her harm were now facing their own brand of justice, and though justice had a peculiar way of feeling both satisfying and hollow, Ceres found comfort in the thought. However unpleasant Dharavi was, Hell was surely worse. As he continued his journey, he couldn’t shake the gnawing anticipation of Udit’s decision, nor the exhaustion that threatened to consume him. But for now, he focused on his coffee, a bitter companion in his restless vigil.

He’d enjoyed the previous night, at least.

With each precise cut and calculated slice, he’d unleashed a torrent of grim knowledge upon the trio, detailing the agonizing timelines of death that would result from each new wound. Yet, amidst the macabre theater of his retribution, it was the visceral satisfaction of disemboweling Rocana that ignited a primal thrill within him. In Rocana’s final moments, as life seeped away from his torn form, he’d understood at last what he’d unleashed on countless victims.

For Ceres, watching each man die in turn had come with bitter triumph. He’d gotten to do something good, for once: shielding the vulnerable, and demanding retribution for their pain. With the ineptitude of the local authorities laid bare, he’d seized the mantle of judgment, ensuring that the perpetrators faced the full weight of consequence for their despicable acts. In the relentless march of time, more shadows would emerge, casting their darkness upon the innocent, but at least these demons had been vanquished and couldn’t hurt anyone else.

People fancied themselves at the top of the food chain, blissfully unaware of their precarious position. With each step toward The Golden Lotus, he mulled over his predicament, his thoughts a tangled mess. Perhaps Udit was inside, cozying up to Justi. The idea made him uneasy, stirring up a mix of jealousy and insecurity. A fleeting notion tempted him to whisk her away, but he dismissed it. He craved her genuine affection, not forced compliance. Yet, the reality weighed heavily on him. Asking her to leave Dharavi was asking her to leap into the unknown, leaving behind everything that mattered to her. It was like expecting a cat to bark. If she refused, he’d have to swallow his pride and soldier on, facing the absurdities of life in Chau Cera alone.

As he rounded the corner, a plume of thick, black smoke assaulted his senses, billowing ominously from The Golden Lotus and the apartments above. In the squalor of the slums, where utilities were a luxury and safety standards nonexistent, fires were a frequent menace and spread with alarming speed. The café, once a bustling hub of activity, now stood engulfed in flames, its structure collapsing under the relentless assault of the inferno. Racing closer, Ceres spotted Justi in a frenzy, his anguished cries piercing through the mayhem. “My mother’s in there!” he bellowed, his frantic attempts to break free from his neighbors’ restraining grip met with fierce resistance.

“She’s gone,” one man insisted. “There’s no sense in you going, too.”

“Justi, listen,” Ceres interjected, his tone urgent as he grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “You can’t go in there. It’s too dangerous.”

But Justi remained defiant. “She’s alive!” he exclaimed, his desperation palpable.

Glancing at The Golden Lotus, Ceres knew he had no choice. If Justi ventured into the inferno, he’d surely meet the same fate as his mother. Without hesitation, he dashed across the street, plunging headlong into the swirling abyss of smoke and flames. The air was thick with choking fumes, suffocating and disorienting. Pressing forward against the oppressive heat, he could feel his skin starting to cook. Wrapping his collar tightly around his face, he pressed on, driven by the urgent need to find Radha before it was too late—for her, and for himself.

With each step, he strained his ears for any sign of her, hoping that she was still alive. The flames licked hungrily at the building, casting dancing shadows that seemed to mock his desperation. But he pushed forward, fueled by determination and the flickering hope that he could reach her in time. Room after room, he searched, growing more and more worried with each empty space he encountered, the smoke and heat making it difficult to see and breathe. Yet, despite his efforts, Radha remained elusive, her whereabouts shrouded in the swirling confusion of the inferno.

Was she even in here?

As he reached the upper levels, the heat intensified, searing through his clothes and threatening to engulf him in its fiery embrace. He could hear the flames underneath him, crackling along the buckling floorboards; one gave way right beneath his foot, almost sending him plunging. This rabbit warren of a building was now a chaotic maze of flames and smoke, with charred debris littering the floors and walls. The crackling of burning wood and the hiss of escaping gas echoed through the corridors, creating an eerie siren’s song that drowned out all other sounds. But he pressed on, driven by a singular purpose to find Radha and bring her to safety—somehow.

Finally, he reached the last room. He held the back of his hand to the knob; it was hot to the touch. Kicking it open, his heart pounded in his chest as he entered the smoke-filled space. Through the haze, he spotted Radha, her leg pinned under a heavy beam that had collapsed from the ceiling. Determination flared within him as he strode across the collapsing floor, ignoring the searing heat that threatened to consume them both. “Hang on, Radha. We’re getting out of here.”

She stared up at him with wide eyes. “He was here.” Her voice was weak. “Dharun.”

Ceres grabbed the beam. “What?”

She coughed. “He—did this.”

He wasn’t surprised, but he didn’t have time to talk about that now. With a grunt of effort, he heaved the beam off her, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight. That obstacle gone, he reached down and lifted Radha into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. She winced in pain as he did so; her leg was almost certainly broken. Ignoring his own fatigue, turned back the way he’d come, his sole focus on getting her to safety. There’d be time for his questions, later.

“Thank you,” she managed weakly.

“No need to thank me,” he said. “We’re not quite out of the woods.”

As Radha moaned in fear, he he descended the stairs. The ceiling was ablaze, too, sending showers of sparks and embers raining down on them. Each step was a battle against the lack of oxygen and the threat of collapsing debris. The walls around them groaned and shuddered, sections of the ceiling caving in with deafening crashes. But he pressed on, shielding the older woman as best he could. Finally, they burst through the charred remnants of the front door, into air that felt shockingly cool, their lungs filling with sweet relief.

Justi dashed forward, joy washing over his face as he reached Radha’s side. “You’re alright!”

Between coughs, Radha managed to speak. “The café…. I tried to stop him.”

Ceres knelt down beside her, concern etched into his features. “What happened?”

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“He confronted me there,” Radha explained. “Accused me of betraying him.”

Justi’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Betraying him?” Ceres echoed, his tone incredulous.

Radha nodded weakly. “He thought I was feeding you information about him. I tried to explain that I was only telling you about those men who’d attacked Udit. He didn’t believe me, though. He was furious, I….” She paused, visibly shaken by the memory. “I’ve never seen him like that,” she murmured. “It was like he was possessed.”

Ceres grimaced, the pieces beginning to fall into place. “And then?”

“I locked myself in the storage room,” Radha recounted, her voice trembling. “Hoping he’d calm down! Then, the next thing I knew, the whole place was engulfed in flames. I tried to escape but then the beam….” She choked back a sob. “I don’t know how it happened but I swear, I had nothing to do with it!” Her gaze turned beseeching. “Dharun was supposed to be our friend.”

Ceres fixed her with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. “I believe you, Radha. Dharun… isn’t in a good place. But nothing you said or did caused him to act how he did.”

Radha wrung her hands, her eyes filled with anguish. “I just don’t understand! He kept talking about how violence was so wrong but….” She glanced at Justi, tears streaming down her cheeks once more. She and her son had both narrowly escaped death. Dharun undoubtedly had spun tales about his supposed aversion to violence, saying whatever he needed to in order to manipulate them.

“Sometimes, fear and anger can drive people to do terrible things,” Ceres explained, his voice steady. “But I’ll deal with Dharun. The most important thing now is that you’re safe.”

Radha nodded, then pulled her son into a tight embrace, her tears mingling with his.

Ceres straightened, his gaze fixed on the inferno raging before him. This was a private moment, and he didn’t want to intrude. Flames danced voraciously, devouring the ramshackle building with relentless hunger, sending plumes of thick smoke swirling into the morning sky. The feeble attempts of the makeshift fire department did little to quell the ferocity of the blaze. Each crackle and groan of collapsing timber echoed through the air, a haunting symphony of destruction. As he stood there, a mixture of relief and sorrow washed over him. The sight of the building reduced to ashes was a stark reminder of how fragile life was in this unforgiving corner of the world—and everywhere else. He found a fleeting sense of peace in knowing that he'd saved one life, but his heart ached for the countless others lossed to senseless tragedy.

The irony struck him hard. After years of numbing himself to the pain he inflicted on others, why did the plight of someone he barely tolerated now stir such disquiet within his soul? It dawned on him that allowing Udit into his heart had unleashed a torrent of emotions he’d long suppressed. With her came a flood of sensations he’d forgotten, or—more accurately—deliberately buried. As he stood there, observing Justi and Radha, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for his own parents, a stark reminder of the void they’d left behind.

Feeling alone, he collapsed onto a nearby bench, his weary frame craving respite from the relentless turmoil within and without. The lingering stench of smoke enveloped him, a suffocating shroud that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Lost in a labyrinth of memories, he barely registered the world around him as it blurred into a haze of exhaustion. Just as he surrendered to the weight of solitude, a voice pierced through the silence, jolting him from his reverie. His gaze snapped up to meet Udit’s, her eyes radiating worry. “Are you alright?”

He offered her a feeble smile. “I’m fine.”

“I came looking for you,” she said, her voice tinged with concern.

His heart quickened at her words, though he tried to mask his excitement.

She settled beside him, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around her. She didn’t recoil, but her silence spoke volumes. “I’m relieved that you’re safe,” she said eventually. He shared the sentiment but, more so, he was grateful to have her by his side; her presence felt like a lifeline in the darkness, anchoring him back from the edge of despair. “Poor Justi,” she added. “And poor Radha.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“I had this whole speech planned, but….” Her laughter was hollow, shaped by the harsh realities of life.

“But what?” he prodded.

“But I don't know how to leave everything behind,” she confessed. “And your life, Ceres, it intimidates me. I’m not sure what it entails, being with someone like you—prince or assassin. What expectations would there be? All I’ve ever known is working with my parents here.”

“I’ve never been married either,” Ceres pointed out.

“I’m not one to ignore things,” Udit started, her voice hesitant, “and—what?” Her eyes widened in disbelief as his words sank in. “Married?”

He blinked, taken aback. He’d thought his intentions were obvious. “How else do you expect me to get you off this planet?” There were bureaucratic regulations in the Empire governing travel, and he couldn’t take her with him unless they were married—or he purchased her, as a slave.

“Wow.” Her response was part giggle, part incredulous gasp. “How romantic.”

“I love you,” he confessed.

Her eyes pierced his. “I’m not sure how to process all this. I do care about you, but we’re still getting to know each other. I need time, a lot more time, to figure out my own feelings. Leaving is hard enough to contemplate, but a lifelong commitment? Women don’t have a lot of rights on Brontes and….” She shook her head, as she watched the last of The Golden Lotus collapse. “I also can’t believe that we’re having this conversation now, of all times.”

As he stroked her hair, Ceres thought about what she’d said. Life on Brontes, life in the Empire—it was different, especially for women. Udit would have to make countless sacrifices, navigating through unfamiliar customs and societal norms. The prospect of leaving behind everything she knew, her family, her work, had to be daunting. Yet, despite the challenges ahead, he couldn’t shake the conviction burning within him. “I know it won’t be easy,” he finally murmured. “But I truly believe that we can make this work, Udit. Together.” His gaze met hers, earnest and unwavering. “I want to build a life with you, even if it means facing hardships along the way. I know I have my limitations, but I promise to do everything in my power to provide for you, to protect you, to be the partner you deserve.”

One of the neighbors brought him a glass of water, which he accepted.

Udit’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke. “It was a good thing, what you did.”

He hesitated, before responding. “I did it for you.”

Her voice barely above a whisper, Udit’s words hung heavy in the air, carrying the weight of uncertainty and resolve. “It’ll be difficult,” she allowed, her fingers intertwining with his. “Not knowing what lies ahead—for Justi and Radha, for us. They’ve been through so much over the last few years.”

Ceres felt a lump form in his throat as he processed what she’d said. “You mean you’ll come with me?”

“Yes,” she replied. “As scared as I am…I can’t shake the feeling that if I don’t take this chance, I’ll regret it forever.”

The magnitude of her decision settled between them like a heavy fog, casting a somber shadow over what should’ve been a much happier moment in their lives. But amidst the doubts and fears, there was a glimmer of determination in Udit’s eyes that gave him hope; things might not be so bleak forever. “We can go to the magistrate’s office,” he told her. “And then tell your parents.”

She nodded in agreement.

Although she didn’t, he noted, suggest including them.

He grasped the depth of her dilemma all too well. Their disapproval of him was palpable, their conservative convictions a stark contrast to her yearning for freedom and excitement. She undoubtedly dreaded their inevitable reaction, the looming specter of their disappointment ready to engulf her. Even so, amidst the turmoil of conflicting values, she stood resolute. This was her choice to make, her journey to embark upon; she had the right to forge her own destiny.

With a gentle gesture, Ceres extended his arm, a silent offer of support and solidarity as they faced the unknown together.