CHAPTER 15

The Descent into Darkness: The Fate of Rudra

The submarine churned through the stifling blackness of the deep, its steel hull creaking under the weight of the water. The deeper it sank, the more the world above turned into a dream long forgotten. It was the silence of the water around it that was surreal, as if the ocean itself had frozen in fear to listen to the cries of what was under it.

Within, the feeble emergency lights blinked, and cast long shadows that crept and writhed across the narrow passageways. The air was cold and sterile but thick with a kind of unspoken dread.

The only sound in the Tiger was of a single man in black, gliding across the metal floor as he rushed to haul an unconscious Rudra on a stretcher towards the darkened bowels of the ship.

Ayush's little brother, Rudra, had been unrecognizable under the shredded, blood-drenched fabric of his uniform. His small body was marred with deep gashes, his skin ghostly pale in the face of dark streaks of dried blood. His left arm turned at an unnatural angle, ribs moving with every shallow breath. His once vibrantly full lips were blue.

And yet, through it all, he survived.

The submarine dove with greater haste, its course locked into a destination known only to those who controlled it. Then, from behind the reinforced glass of the viewing panels, a shape started to materialize.

A hideous rift running down the length of the abyssal mantém; an abyssal citadel deep below the ocean surface.]

The submarine's engines rumbled as it approached the facility, and a moment later, with a deep, metallic groan, massive gates started to swing open. They pulled apart like some great, industrial also-birth, revealing a labyrinthine citadel of steel, pulsing under the cold glow of artificial lights: an empire of secrecy and control.

The vessel entered.

It slammed the doors shut behind, leaving them trapped.

Inside, a symphony of whirring mechanical arms activated, locking onto the submarine with surgical precision. The hatch breathed with hiss before it opened, ejecting a cloud of sterilized mist into the chamber. The person clad in black did not pause. He charged ahead, steering the stretcher with a hammering cadence. Metal walls blurred by, sterile, clinical but silver-gold with the stink of something much, much darker.

The operation chamber waited at the end of the corridor.

The Scalding Rage: The Humboldt Kid Rage

Ayush did not move, standing outside the operation room, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.

He had always been a protector of Rudra. Since he had been a child, Rudra had always been the one to hide behind him, holding him by the sleeve, gazing up with wide, trusting eyes.

"Ayush, you will always protect me, right?"

He had laughed then, tousling Rudra's hair. "Always."

But now, Rudra was alone, lying limp on a stretcher, his fragile body shattered, his life in the balance.

Ayush snapped, somehow, inside.

His breath hitched. His heart beat like a war drum in his chest.

Then—his rage detonated.

A killing intent that constricted the air exploded out of him.

The very air appeared to shrink back. The metal frame creaked and strained as its unseen heavy burden pushed against the walls. The lights overhead flickered like mad, flooding the corridor with spasms of darkness and crimson flash. Sparks flew from machines, their circuitry thrown into chaos.

Even the floor beneath his feet cracked.

Kim stepped in front of him, dark purple and black-streaked hair falling down her shoulders, moving fast. The sharpness of her stare leveled at him, imperturbable.

"Ayush," she said, her voice steady and deliberate. "You need to stop."

But he couldn't.

The vision painted in red. His fists contracted, nails digging into palms enough to break the skin.

"I will tear them apart."

The words weren't a threat. They were a promise.

The tension endured, thick, oppressive.

Then—

The doors to the operation room swung open.

Ayush whipped around, panting, his rage untamed.

The doctor emerged, his face cold with grim finality.

Ayush's voice was a low, lethal growl.

"Is he going to survive?"

A pause.

One heartbeat stretched on to eternity.

Then the doctor met his eyes, and with a heft

heavy enough to fracture worlds, he told.

The answer would alter everything.

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