No More Shadows

Days passed. Kasab moved forward, but the streets whispered. Rizwan Bhai's gang was losing ground. Shetty's men were everywhere now—at the docks, in the markets, even near the football field.

Malik stayed quiet. But silence wasn't enough anymore.

One night, he walked home late. The roads were mostly empty, the air thick with the smell of rain. As he turned a corner near the old warehouses, he heard it—a muffled struggle.

Malik stopped. Two men were dragging someone into a car.

The victim fought, his face bloodied. Raju.

Malik's fists clenched. He knew the rule—walk away. This wasn't his fight.

But something inside him refused.

Before he could think, he moved. A loose brick sat near the alley's edge. He picked it up and swung hard. The first man collapsed. The second turned, reaching for something—a knife.

Malik was faster. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted. A crack. A scream. The knife clattered to the ground.

Raju gasped for breath, barely able to stand. The two men groaned on the pavement.

"Go," Malik ordered.

Raju didn't wait. He ran. Malik followed, heart pounding. There was no turning back now.

For the first time, he had stepped into the fight.

Kasab had finally pulled him in.