Aarvansh and Bhalla sit in a dimly lit stone cell, wrists loosely bound. A lone villager stands guard outside the bars. Aarvansh scans the walls, mind racing. Bhalla leans casually against the wall, still smirking.
Bhalla (turning to the guard)
"So… what's your defect, sir? Aryan must've sold you something big. I know there's a story there."
The guard stays silent for a moment. Then his voice breaks through the quiet—calm, measured.
Villager
"I was a Paralympic bronze medalist. Trained my whole life for it. I earned it. But... I still missed the days I could run."
Bhalla (softly)
"Woah… serious respect for that You w--"
Aarvansh (cutting in, focused)
"Aryan promised to give you your legs back, didn't he?"
The villager nods.
Villager:
"Yes. He did. And he meant it. Aryan wasn't just building an army—he was building a family. He found people who were broken, forgotten. And he made us feel seen. The science? That came easy to him. What took time... was trust."
Bhalla's tone shifts, curious but firm.
Bhalla:
"But why did he run ? why is he building his army what is he upto ?"
A dimly lit conference room hums beneath the scorched wasteland of Pokhran. Concrete walls. Metallic silence. Monitors flicker with surveillance feeds.
A man in a grey jacket approaches a figure standing with his back turned—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black. Trimmed hair. Perfectly still.
Man
"Brother, it's time to send the doses."
The figure doesn't turn. His voice is cold, clipped.
Aryan
"How many times do I have to repeat myself? Send them. Don't ask. Don't talk to me about the villagers."
The man hesitates, choosing his next words carefully.
Man
"We waste resources on them every week. Why not just wipe them out? Finish it—"
Aryan turns now, slowly. His face calm, unreadable. Eyes like glass.
Aryan
"Life is not something we're allowed to take… unless it stands in our way."
He steps forward.
Aryan
"Those villagers—broken as they are—might one day shield us. Picture AGNI closing in… and them dying so we escape. Why kill what can still be of use?"
Man
"But what if they turn on us?"
Aryan's voice drops, colder now.
Aryan
"Their lives are borrowed time. I'm the one holding the clock. They survive because I allow it. I don't need them. They need me."
A thin smile creeps across his face.
Aryan
"To them, I'm not a monster… I'm a god who hasn't chosen to destroy them. Yet."
Man
"If the outside world finds out—if even one villager escapes—wait, I mean… they need the serum to survive, but still… we can't track everyone. If someone skilled enough bypasses our village security—"
Aryan cuts him off mid-sentence. His voice, low and intense.
Aryan
"Abdul… have you ever been in a do-or-die situation?"
He turns fully now, walking toward him.
Aryan
"Your heartbeat pounding. Legs trembling. And the only thing you've got left is instinct. Not logic. Not strength. Just that primal will to live."
He stops inches from him, eyes locked.
Aryan
"Life is the most precious thing a man owns. And when it's slipping, he'll give anything—money, memory, soul—to hold onto it."
Aryan circles him like a predator.
Aryan
"You said it yourself—the villagers know only we can make the serum. And as for sneaking out?"
"They won't. Because every day they wake up with fear in their lungs. Fear of death. And that fear... keeps them alive."
He raises his voice now, chest rising with controlled rage.
Aryan
"You haven't been in that situation, have you, Abdul? If you had, you wouldn't ask such stupid questions."
He leans in, voice a cold whisper.
Aryan
"You don't have the slightest idea what it feels like… to not know if you'll see the next morning. To survive one more day, hoping it won't be the last. But it always feels like it might be."
Abdul bows his head, guilt thick in his voice.
Abdul
"I… I'm sorry, brother. I know what AGNI did to you. We'll show them. Together. What we are. What we're capable of."
Aryan stares at him for a moment. Then softens—slightly.
Aryan
"Yes. Indeed, Abdul…. Or should I say …. Hamid ."
Hamid
"W-w-what…?"
Aryan doesn't blink.
Aryan
"I know you're not Abdul. You're AGNI agent Hamid."
In a flash, Hamid pulls out a pistol and fire. The bullet tears through Aryan's shoulder. He doesn't flinch. No stagger. Just a slow, steady breath.
Aryan
"Still sharp, I see. One of AGNI's finest."
He steps forward, calm, composed.
Aryan
"Join me, Hamid. Together we'll burn AGNI to the ground. You know what they did to me , how much I hate them. And still, I offer you this chance. Tell me—what did you do to the real Abdul?"
Hamid grits his teeth, raising the gun again.
Hamid
"I'll never side with you. How did you know I was--"
Aryan
"Because I know every one of my people. You took his face... but not his personality."
His voice sharpens like a blade.
Aryan
"Don't waste my time. I'm asking you one last time—where is Abdul?"
Suddenly, Hamid injects himself with a serum. His body stiffens, convulses—and he collapses.Aryan watches him fall, disappointed.
Aryan
"Another one mistaking death for patriotism. May your soul rest in peace"
He turns to the control panel and presses the loudspeaker button.
Aryan
"Abdul has been kidnapped. You have three hours to find him. That is all."
Behind him, Hamid stirs—barely conscious, bleeding, fading fast.
Hamid
"You'll… never win…"
Aryan walks over, kneels beside him, his voice quiet and precise.
Aryan
"A great leader once said—'Give me your blood, and I will give you freedom.'"
He leans in closer.
Aryan
"Another one said—'You took my blood… now I'll write your destiny with it.'"
A pause.
Aryan
"You're smart enough to know who that is"
Hamid exhales his last breath. Dead.