Chapter 11

When you're trapped in a black hole or a cosmic storm, it will tear apart every fiber of your being, causing excruciating pain down to the very atoms of your body. Even if you're in a soul state, the torment remains just as horrific. Afterward, your soul will be placed in the body of a 13-year-old child, frail and unwell, adding a final layer of suffering to this hellish experience.

As Veer settled into the frail body, the overwhelming pain and confusion hit him like a tidal wave. Every fiber of his soul screamed in agony, as if the remnants of the cosmic storm were still tearing through him. His body was alien to him—small, fragile, weak. The dull ache in his bones felt like an echo of the hellish journey he'd endured.

"Ahhh... why is my body in so much pain? And what the hell *is* this body? There's not an ounce of strength in my bones," Veer groaned internally, wincing as he tried to move his limbs. The weak, malnourished frame he now inhabited protested every effort, his muscles twitching from both exhaustion and unfamiliarity.

He was still bound—hands and feet tied tightly, and a blindfold restricting his vision. The smell of damp earth and sweat filled his nostrils, along with the faint sound of quiet sobs. There were other children around him, all of them as trapped and afraid as he was. 

'Haah... okay. So first thing, I'm tied up, and there are kids around me. This body feels... maybe ten years old? Weak, but better than nothing, I guess.'

Veer tried to move his hands, testing the ropes. The bindings were tight, biting into his wrists, but not impossible to loosen. As he struggled with them, he reached into his mind, hoping to find any trace of the memories belonging to the boy whose body he had taken over.

'That's strange. How come I don't know anything about myself or how I got here? It's like I didn't inherit any memories from this little guy...'

His thoughts drifted to the boy he had displaced. Guilt washed over him briefly, but there was no room for regret now. The situation demanded action, not remorse.

'I'm sorry, little one. I didn't have a choice. I had to take over your body to survive. But I'll take care of it, I swear. If you have a family, I'll protect them for you.'

But there were no memories to guide him—no clue as to who this boy had been or what his life was like. It was just a shell now, and Veer was the soul trapped within it.

Realizing he wouldn't find answers from the boy's past, Veer began considering other options. He needed information, fast. As he continued to fiddle with the ropes binding his hands, he listened closely. A few of the children around him began to stir, waking up from their exhausted slumber. Quiet whispers and the occasional sob broke the silence, and Veer's sharp mind kicked into action.

'Maybe these kids know something. If I can get them to talk, maybe I can piece together what's happening here.'

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice despite the throbbing pain in his body. He couldn't appear too out of place—he had to sound like one of them, at least for now. Slowly, he leaned closer to the nearest child, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey... do you know where we are? What's happening?"

There was a pause before a voice, soft and trembling, answered, "I-I don't know. We were taken... grabbed off the streets. They tied us up and brought us here."

Veer's heart sank. Kidnappings. Trafficking. He had a bad feeling about this. He needed to know more, but he couldn't afford to panic. Not now.

"Do you know who *they* are? Did you see anything before they tied you up?" Veer asked, his voice still low and calm.

The child hesitated. "N-no... I didn't see them clearly. It was all so fast..."

Veer nodded, even though the child couldn't see him. This wasn't good. They were all blindfolded, bound, and stuck in some unknown location. His new body was too weak to fight properly, and without his usual strength or any knowledge of this world, he was at a severe disadvantage.

But he wasn't giving up. Not yet.

As the minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, the children began to stir more, their hunger becoming unbearable. Some of the younger ones whimpered, their voices growing louder as the pangs of starvation gnawed at their fragile bodies. The air inside the room grew thick with the scent of sweat and desperation.

"I'm hungry," one of the younger boys cried out, his voice trembling.

"I can't take this anymore!" another child shouted, his voice cracking with fear and frustration. The sobs grew louder, spreading like a wave of panic through the group.

Veer, still quietly working on loosening his ropes, took mental notes of the situation. He hadn't eaten in what felt like days either—not in this new body, at least. But his mind was focused, sharp. He couldn't afford to lose control like the others. There had to be a way out of this. He had to understand more about their captors, their plans.

The screaming reached a crescendo as more children joined in, their cries becoming frantic.

"Quiet!" A door slammed open, and heavy footsteps thudded into the room. The kids went silent instantly, fear suffocating their voices. One of the thugs stormed inside, his silhouette blocking the faint light from outside the room. His voice was sharp, dripping with menace.

"If you brats don't shut your mouths, you'll regret it," he snarled, his accent thick with the harsh tone of a local indian dialect. The way he spoke was coarse, laced with cruelty, his words quick and clipped. "You think crying will get you food? You're lucky you're even alive right now!"

The children cowered, stifling their cries, though a few sobs still slipped out. The thug stepped further into the room, his heavy boots scraping against the floor as he surveyed the terrified kids. 

Veer's heart raced, but his mind remained calm, observing every detail. The thug's language was familiar—he was a local, probably from the streets of Mumbai, just like the kids he had kidnapped. His threats, though menacing, hinted at something more.

As the thug continued to berate them, Veer sharpened his focus, picking up on fragments of a conversation that the man muttered under his breath.

"We'll see how loud you scream when you're on that boat," the thug sneered. "Rich guy's paying good money for all of you. The less trouble you cause, the easier it'll be. Otherwise, you'll be worth more in pieces."

Veer's eyes widened behind the blindfold. *Boat? Pieces?* His stomach twisted as the realization hit him. The kids—they weren't just being held for ransom or trafficking. They were being sold. To someone rich. And for those who didn't make the cut… they'd be harvested. Organs. Kidneys. Hearts.

'ohh god,don't tell me it's that island what i'm think it is??I need to get out of this nightmare'

The thug's cruel laugh echoed in the room, and Veer's thoughts raced even faster. This wasn't just a random kidnapping. These kids were being sent to an island, maybe somewhere far away, to be sold off to the highest bidder. And those who couldn't be sold whole—well, their bodies would be broken apart and sold in pieces.

The thug gave one last threatening glare before stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The children went quiet again, their fear choking any words they might have spoken.

Veer, on the other hand, felt his mind sharpen. He had gathered crucial information—enough to start forming a plan. He knew now what was happening, what they were dealing with. It was a human trafficking operation, with organ harvesting as a fallback plan. 

But more than that, he knew their captors' language, their habits, and their intentions. And though his body was weak, his mind was now stronger than ever. He just needed time—and an opportunity to act.

And then, he'd fight back.

The night passed slowly, and the children huddled together, too terrified to sleep. Veer stayed awake, his mind constantly turning over the information he'd gathered. He could hear the faint rustling outside the room, the guards talking in low voices, the hum of distant jungle sounds. His body was weak, but his mind was racing, preparing for whatever came next.

As the first rays of dawn broke through the dense canopy of the jungle, the door to the children's room creaked open again. The same thug from the night before entered, barking orders. 

"Get up! All of you! Time to eat."

The kids scrambled to their feet, still blindfolded and bound, guided roughly outside by the thugs. Veer felt the cool morning air on his skin as he stumbled forward, staying silent as he was pushed along with the others. The fear hung in the air like a thick fog, but Veer kept his mind steady, taking in every detail without raising suspicion.

As they emerged into the open, Veer blinked against the sunlight filtering through the thick jungle trees. The cottage looked even more isolated in the morning light, surrounded by towering foliage and vines. A small fire crackled nearby, where a few other traffickers were cooking food—simple, rough fare meant for the children. The smell of charred vegetables and cheap meat drifted through the air. It wasn't much, but for the starving kids, it was enough to quell their immediate hunger.

The traffickers, about a dozen of them, stood around the perimeter, their eyes watching the children like predators observing prey. Some of the younger kids were too frightened to eat, still trembling from the night's horrors, but the older ones grabbed at the food with shaking hands, too hungry to care about anything else.

Veer, however, didn't move right away. He stood at the edge of the group, his hands still tied, assessing the situation carefully. There were far more traffickers here than he had anticipated—at least fifteen men, all armed and dangerous. Some had crude knives, others carried guns. Veer's sharp eyes scanned each of their faces, memorizing their features, their movements, their patterns of behavior. 

He stayed calm, blending in with the other kids, careful not to attract attention. But he noticed one thing immediately—there was one child being treated very differently from the others.

A girl, around 14 years old, was standing off to the side, away from the rest of the group. She was blindfolded like the others, but unlike them, she wasn't being pushed or bullied by the thugs. Her clothes were cleaner, more expensive, and she carried herself with a quiet dignity, despite the obvious fear etched into her features. Veer noticed how the traffickers kept a close watch on her, their eyes lingering longer on her than on the others. She was clearly important, but why?

One of the thugs stood particularly close to her, making sure no harm came her way, while the other kids were barely given a second glance. Veer's mind raced. *Who was she? Why was she so special?*

His attention shifted to another figure emerging from the cottage—the boss. The man from the night before, the one with cold eyes and a commanding presence, stepped out into the clearing. He was tall and grizzled, with a calculating gaze that swept over the group of children like they were cattle. His face was hard, devoid of any empathy. As he moved closer, the other thugs fell silent, their postures stiffening with respect and fear.

The boss's gaze fell on the mysterious girl, and he nodded approvingly at the thug standing next to her, a silent acknowledgment that she was still unharmed. Veer watched closely, his mind connecting the dots. This girl—she wasn't just another victim. She was the key to something bigger, something far more dangerous than he had first realized.

The boss then turned his attention to the rest of the children, his eyes cold and dispassionate. "Feed them, but don't get too comfortable. The buyers are coming soon, and we need them alive until then."

Veer's heart pounded, but his face remained impassive. He needed to act, but not yet. The time wasn't right. For now, he would wait, bide his time, and gather more information. He had to know more about the traffickers, the mysterious girl, and what lay ahead.

As the morning sun continued to rise, Veer sat down quietly among the children, forcing himself to eat the meager food they were given, all while his mind worked tirelessly. He would find a way out. And when the time came, he would be ready.