Amidst the dimly lit ambience of the pub, Ceres lurked in the shadows like the predator he was. Dharun sat slouched over the bar, nursing his umpteenth drink with a vacant expression. He’d been acting like an idiot all evening, although how much of that was real and how much was an act Ceres wasn’t certain. Dharun had the same training he did, which made him a good liar.
Increasingly, however, it dawned upon Ceres that these actions weren’t merely displays of power or rebellion—or, indeed, an act at all. Instead, Dharun’s behavior seemed to reflect a deeper turmoil even than Ceres had first understood. That morning, Dharun had obliterated an entire city block, endangering innocent lives in the process. Now, as he witnessed his former friend’s relentless pursuit of mayhem, Ceres couldn't help but discern a pattern—a pattern of self-destruction. Dharun’s rampage wasn’t aimed at the world around him, but rather at himself, a desperate attempt to erase his own dignity and identity along with everything else.
With each new drink, the former assassin’s demeanor spiraled further into absurdity, resembling a tragicomic spectacle in a drunken circus. Slurring his words, he spun tales of his exploits to anyone within earshot, embellishing reality with each passing moment. His gestures grew wilder with every swig, too, culminating in a clumsy attempt at a dance routine that ended in a stumble—nearly upsetting a nearby table. While the spectacle amused the bar’s patrons, Ceres couldn’t shake the pang in his heart; this wreck of a man had once been a mentor.
Dharun’s attempts at flirtation were also a comedy of errors, his slurred compliments directed at the unimpressed bartender and an unsuspecting potted plant in the corner. Oblivious to the baffled stares of onlookers, he persisted, each failed attempt at charm increasing their secondhand embarrassment. He’d become a caricature of his former self, stumbling through the remnants of his own legend. From Ceres’s perspective, however, there was a much bigger problem: Dharun’s unpredictable temper, exacerbated by his current state, could escalate their confrontation into a violent altercation—putting everyone in here at serious risk.
His grip tightened on the cold metal of his weapon.
Watching Dharun’s drunken antics was like witnessing a shipwreck in slow motion, each stumble and slurred word a harbinger of impending disaster. He held the power to prevent further destruction, to halt the tempest raging within his friend before it wreaked havoc on even more innocent lives. With a heavy heart, he steeled himself for the grim task ahead, knowing that sometimes, the greatest act of mercy was also the most agonizing.
As Ceres closed in on his target, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation, each step echoing like thunder in his mind. Dharun’s swagger faltered as he caught sight of his adversary amidst the hubbub, his drunken façade melting away to reveal a raw fury burning in his eyes. Before Ceres could speak, Dharun’s neural implants kicked in, stripping away the intoxication with ruthless efficiency. His demeanor transformed from confusion to determination, his gaze fixed on the exit like a hunted animal desperate for escape, ready to unleash chaos upon the night.
Ceres lunged, but not fast enough.
As he pursued Dharun through the chaotic bar, a stool whizzed past his head, barely missing its mark. Adrenaline surged through him, sharpening his senses as he navigated the tumultuous scene. Tables toppled in their wake, drinks splattered across the floor, and startled patrons fled in every direction. Despite the bedlam, Ceres remained focused on his target, closing the distance with each determined stride. His heart raced like a drumbeat in his chest, each thud driving him forward in relentless pursuit of the man who threatened to slip through his grasp.
With a daring leap, Dharun crashed through a nearby window, vanishing into the night. Ceres followed suit. Dharun’s labored breaths echoed through the labyrinthine streets, guiding Ceres to him like a beacon. Despite the disorienting chaos of the urban landscape, he sensed a grim purpose in Dharun’s erratic path—an ominous journey deeper into the heart of Dharavi’s desolation, away from the safety of bystanders. In this derelict realm, devoid of witnesses or allies, there’d be no help forthcoming if Dharun somehow managed to gain the upper hand.
Navigating the increasingly claustrophobic passages felt like threading a needle at high speed, with each obstacle a potential disaster and each step a gamble. Pushing his body to its limits, his muscles burning with exertion, Ceres was beginning to feel like Dharun sounded. Dharun hadn’t kept up with his training like he should’ve but, even so, he stayed tantalizingly out of reach.
Around the corner, Ceres spotted his quarry climbing upward like a cat, the sound of his footfalls reverberating off the dilapidated walls as he made for higher ground. Ceres did the same, once again, using a stack of crates as a makeshift launchpad to propel himself up and onto the adjacent rooftop. The impact jolted through his bones as he landed, his boots skidding across the rough surface before finding purchase. Locking eyes with Dharun, a silent challenge passed between them, then Dharun pivoted swiftly and the chase was on again.
The rooftops of Dharavi were a tangled web of corrugated metal and crumbling brick, where new and treacherous obstacles seemed to materialize at every turn. Makeshift shelters loomed like shadowy sentinels, their corrugated metal surfaces glinting dully in the moonlight. Laundry lines crisscrossed his path, threatening to ensnare him with every step, while water tanks stood like silent guardians, their imposing presence forcing him to veer off course. Satellite dishes and solar panels jutted out at odd angles, creating treacherous footholds as he scrambled over them. Piles of discarded debris appeared at odd places, obstructing his progress and testing his agility with each leap and bound. Loose tiles threatened to give way beneath his weight, adding an extra layer of danger to this obstacle course from Hell.
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The row of abandoned structures abruptly ended, ensnaring Dharun within their desolate embrace. Teetering on the brink of oblivion, he stole a fleeting glance at the gaping abyss beneath, his features shrouded in inscrutability. Then, in a split-second decision, he locked eyes with Ceres before launching himself into the void.
Ceres’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched Dharun vanish into the darkness below, only to emerge unscathed on a rooftop nearby, his form outlined against the still rising moon. Ceres hurled himself across the gap between buildings, seconds later, his fingertips clawing at the air for a handhold as he landed on the precarious ledge. Ahead, Dharun stumbled, his foot catching on one of those death trap tiles as he fought to maintain his balance.
Sensing an opening, Ceres advanced, his breath shallow and his pulse thundering in his ears. His eyes met Dharun’s, their silent exchange crackling with tension, each daring the other to make the first move in this final showdown. Then, in a blur of motion, Ceres surged forward, his fist crashing into Dharun’s jaw with a sickening impact. For a fleeting moment, Dharun teetered on the brink of the abyss again; before Ceres could act, though, he regained his footing with a snarl of defiance. In an instant, they were entangled in a deadly dance, their blows a symphony of violence echoing across the rooftop as each man fought tooth and nail for survival.
Ceres parried Dharun’s relentless onslaught, feeling exhaustion begin to overtake him as he struggled to keep his opponent at bay. With a calculated strike to Dharun’s abdomen, he drove him back, the intensity of the fight escalating with each passing moment. Yet Dharun refused to yield, his fury fueling a ruthless barrage of attacks that pushed Ceres closer and closer to his limit.
As the battle reached its hottest point, Dharun’s eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, his hand darting to his belt. He drew a gleaming blade and held it aloft, then lunged at Ceres like a striking snake. Ceres reacted on instinct as it sliced through the air, his reflexes honed by years of training, deflecting the blow and pivoting. Metal scraped along his harness with a discordant shriek, the razor-sharp edge inches from his throat as he grappled with his assailant. Pressing his advantage, Dharun tried to stab him again, but when he shifted his weight he left himself vulnerable. Ceres kicked his former friend’s foot out from under him, sending him sprawling, then kicked the weapon from his hand and watched it skitter into darkness.
Throwing himself forward, he forced Dharun to the rusted panel beneath them, their bodies locked in a fierce struggle for dominance as they rolled across the sloping roof. Sweat dripped from their brows as they grappled with each other, muscles straining with exertion as each man fought to pin his opponent. Kneeing Dharun in the groin, Ceres grabbed him by the throat and held him down in a pile of broken pigeon coops. Dharun gasped for air, his eyes wide with panic as he fought against the suffocating grip. In the tense silence that followed, the only sounds were the harsh rasp of Ceres’s labored breathing and Dharun’s choking.
“I knew it would be you,” Dharun wheezed.
“You left without a word, without a trace. You abandoned everything we stand for!” Ceres’s voice echoed across the rooftop, his fingers digging into Dharun’s flesh like talons. The accusation split the air, a damning indictment of betrayal that’d cut him deeper than any knife. Against his better judgment, Ceres relaxed his grasp. He wanted to know how—if—the other man would justify his actions, or at least that was what he told himself.
But Dharun didn’t make excuses, only stared at Ceres in incomprehension at this unexpected mercy. “Can’t you see?” His voice cracked with emotion, his words a desperate plea for understanding. “We’re not the heroes, here. We kill people, in exchange for wealth and power.”
Ceres stared down at him, his gut twisting at the hope he saw in Dharun’s eyes. “I get it,” he said, his voice quiet. “I do. We’ve seen things, done things…. But that doesn’t mean we’re without purpose. Our order exists for a reason. We maintain balance in a world that would otherwise spiral into chaos.” He served the greater good, as Dharun had; sometimes that meant embracing the dark so others could walk in the light. “Our methods are harsh, but they’re necessary.”
Dharun’s features twisted in disgust. “Blindly following orders is necessary?”
“You swore the same oaths,” Ceres reminded him.
“They’re not who I am.” Dharun’s voice was barely above a whisper. “And they’re not who you are.”
Ceres hesitated.
Udit’s words echoed in his mind as he faced this pitiful shell of a creature. The conflict within him raged like a tempest, torn between the duty he’d sworn to uphold and the mercy that tugged at his heartstrings. He’d volunteered for this mission, but the enormity of its consequences threatened to overwhelm him. The Brotherhood’s creed, etched in stone and blood, demanded justice above all else—but was this justice? Udit was right: Dharun posed the greatest threat to himself. But, at the same time, he was pulling other people down with him.
And then there was the final, terrible truth: even if he wanted to let Dharun go, he couldn’t. He had to think of Udit. Fulfilling his oath to her, as her husband, meant fulfilling his oath to the Brotherhood. To abandon that allegiance would be to court catastrophe, inviting the wrath of unforgiving forces that would spare neither him nor his beloved. He couldn’t turn from this, couldn’t stop being the assassin she still feared, not if he wanted her to live. There was no freedom at the end of the path that Dharun had chosen, only a short life as outlaws. He’d hurt her, without meaning to, just like Dharun had hurt so many, and she deserved so much more.
Dharun wasn’t fighting, now; he was waiting.
But for how much longer?
For a few precious minutes, Ceres had reached the man he once knew—but Dharun’s dark half loomed like a threat in the background, ready to resurface at any moment and stronger than ever. Time was a merciless adversary, slipping through Ceres’s grasp with each passing second. He couldn’t afford to wait, not when the tide could turn between one breath and the next. The Dharun he knew would vanish from that gaze, without warning, replaced by the man whose eyes were as blank as mirrors. That man wanted to live, and would keep fighting until Ceres was dead.
So, pulling his gun free, he pressed the muzzle between Dharun’s eyes and fired.