Ch.95: A Crack in the Reflection

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Mumbai Logistics Office

September 5, 1946

The tension in the room solidified as the flickering lights stabilized, casting jagged shadows across the agents' rune-etched gear. Chhaya's clone, no longer confined to Vishal Nair's calm façade, straightened. Her features distorted slightly, a shimmer running across her form as she shed the guise like a discarded skin.

Her voice, layered with an unnatural resonance, echoed. "You think you've trapped me? I'll show you the folly of underestimating me."

Without warning, the room plunged into chaos. Chhaya extended her hand toward the reflective surface of a desk ornament, drawing shimmering tendrils of energy from it. The agents moved in unison, their tactical training kicking in as they fanned out to encircle her.

"Engage!" barked the leader, and the first strike came from an agent to Chhaya's left. A whip of glowing ether lashed out, aimed directly at her torso. She sidestepped, her movements unnaturally fluid, and redirected the energy toward another agent using a reflective burst from her palm. The deflected strike fizzled harmlessly against a rune-reinforced wall.

Another agent lunged forward, a magi-tech gauntlet crackling with charged energy. Chhaya caught the strike with her hand, the reflective surface of her palm rippling as she siphoned a fragment of his power. Her own gauntlet materialized, shimmering and incomplete, but potent enough to send the agent flying with a concussive blast.

"Careful! She's copying abilities," the leader shouted, already recalculating their strategy.

Chhaya smirked, a jagged edge to her grin. "Impressive toys, but I'm better."

The agents retaliated with practiced precision. One summoned a shield of glowing runes, blocking her reflective strikes, while another wove intricate patterns in the air, forming chains of light that snaked toward her. Chhaya dodged, leaping onto a nearby reflective surface and warping her position to the opposite side of the room.

But something was wrong. Her movements, though swift, lacked the overwhelming fluidity of her main form, and being confined in a mortal vessel didn't help her much. Each copied ability felt like a dim echo, weaker and less refined. The agents, trained to detect such flaws, began coordinating their attacks.

The leader stepped forward, her weapon glowing with concentrated etheric energy. She unleashed a wave of suppressive fire, forcing Chhaya to retreat toward the desk. Another agent activated a rune grenade, the blast sealing off a section of the room with shimmering barriers.

Chhaya snarled, her frustration mounting. She fused the stolen powers—manifesting a hybrid of the gauntlet's energy and the chains' constrictive properties—and hurled the creation toward the leader. The attack crackled with unstable energy, forcing the agents to scatter.

"Hold her in position!" the leader ordered.

The agents responded swiftly. Two of them flanked Chhaya, one projecting a barrier to pin her in place while the other launched a volley of energy pulses to keep her on the defensive. A third agent activated a rune on the floor, its golden light spreading in concentric circles beneath Chhaya's feet.

She sensed the trap too late. The rune began to hum, its energy disrupting her reflective abilities. Her movements faltered as the room's surfaces grew dull, further severing her connection to the Mirror Dimension.

"No!" she hissed, her voice tinged with desperation.

The agents pressed their advantage. One of them struck her with a rune-infused baton, the blow disrupting her concentration. Another hurled a chain of light, binding her arms and forcing her to drop her stolen weapon.

The leader stepped forward, holding a small, intricately carved rune in her hand. Its surface glowed with an intense, otherworldly light. "This ends now," she said coldly, pressing the rune against Chhaya's chest.

The clone screamed as the rune activated. Light surged through her borrowed body, unraveling the etheric threads that bound her soul to Vishal Nair's form. The connection shattered, and her presence was ejected violently.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of Vishal's body collapsing to the ground. The agents moved quickly, checking his vitals and securing the area.

The leader looked around, her expression grim. "This was just one of them. We'll need to sweep the city for the rest of the infiltrators. We need to assist other teams from the Mirror Division quickly and inform them of the threats. We're far from being done yet."

The agents nodded, already moving to execute her orders.

As Vishal groaned and began to stir, the leader knelt beside him. "You're safe now," she said. "But we need your help to piece together what she was after."

Outside, the city bustled on, unaware of the battle waged in its shadows. For KAVACH, the fight against Chhaya's remaining clones—and the greater threat she represented—was far from over.

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Mirror Dimension

September 6, 1946

The silvery, infinite expanse of the Mirror Dimension shimmered around Chhaya. Fractured reflections of her borrowed form, that of Raghav Joshi, stretched endlessly into the distance. She paced back and forth, her brow furrowed, frustration evident in her movements.

"Hah.. that response was too swift and coordinated," she muttered, her voice carrying an edge of disbelief. "Their forces weren't supposed to move so quickly. And those runes—where did they even get that kind of knowledge?"

She clenched her borrowed hands into fists, her reflection rippling faintly with the strain. "No matter. This body is still useful. Raghav's connections and memories will be a critical advantage once I'm ready to strike again. But first…"

Chhaya turned sharply, addressing her clones that hovered faintly in distorted mirrors around her. "Reassess, observe, and stay hidden. No more direct actions until I give the command. Let them think they've won this round."

The clones nodded silently, their forms flickering before vanishing deeper into the dimension. Chhaya exhaled, feeling some measure of control return.

Her pacing resumed, her voice turning into a low ramble as she voiced her thoughts. "I'll need to recalibrate. They might have their momentary victory, but their arrogance will blind them. This dimension—this world—hasn't seen what I'm truly capable of yet."

"Hmm, Is that so?"

The voice, calm and laced with mockery, cut through the silence like a knife.

Chhaya froze. Her eyes darted around the infinite reflections, seeking the source. It was impossible—no one could track her here, let alone enter the Mirror Dimension without her notice.

From the corner of her vision, she saw it: a figure, sitting casually at a polished reflective table and chair, a teacup in hand. The man was dressed impeccably, his posture relaxed, radiating an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Aryan Yadav.

He sipped his tea, setting the cup down with a soft clink. "Raghav Joshi, is it? Excellent choice, I must say. But you really should've cleaned up better after yourself, demon. Even the tiniest crumbs can attract the wrong kind of guests."

Chhaya's borrowed face twisted into a scowl as she turned to face him fully. "You," she hissed, her voice low and venomous.

Aryan tilted his head, feigning confusion. "What, no warm welcome? After all the effort I went through to find you?"

"How?" Chhaya demanded, her voice rising. She tightened her grip on the Mirror Dimension's energy, preparing for an attack. "This place is mine. No one—no one—enters without my knowledge."

Aryan chuckled, tapping the table lightly with his fingers. "Hahaha, I've got to say you have quite a masterful control over your energy. But alas, every energy leaves some kind of residue. Though, it took us all of three minutes to isolate your energy signature. The rest was just me following the trail. But all of it was exciting wasn't it?"

He leaned back, gesturing around him with exaggerated ease. "And now, here we are. You, plotting your next move. Me, enjoying a nice cup of tea." His gaze hardened slightly, the faintest edge of menace creeping into his smile. "Though I do hope you're not underestimating me. That would be… unfortunate."

Chhaya's eyes narrowed. "Do you honestly think this cocky act intimidates me? I've faced gods, monsters, and forces beyond comprehension. You're just a man playing hero."

Aryan's smile widened, his tone shifting to one of dangerous amusement. "Oh, I'm far more than that. But please, by all means—continue rambling. I'm curious to see how you plan to worm your way out of this one."

The Mirror Dimension pulsed faintly as Chhaya gathered her power, the reflective surfaces bending to her will. But Aryan didn't flinch. He simply sat there, waiting, his confidence unwavering.

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension, as the two adversaries stared each other down.

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