How Did We Get Here ??

Thar Desert stretched endlessly beneath a burning sun.The heat shimmered through the air, and ancient ruins stood like forgotten sentinels amidst the harsh landscape. Despite the desolate surroundings, the area was alive with movement.

There was a crowd gathered in a wide circle inside the ruins, their faces mixed with both anticipation and awe. The chatter of excited voices filled the air and grew louder second by second until, finally, the cause of their excitement emerged.

A man in black, who was completely covered from head to toe, stood in the middle of the circle. His stride was purposeful, powerful; each step appeared to command the sand beneath him. His face was obscured by a cloth, but his enormous frame was undeniably commanding.

His dark clothes were clingy, yet molded to suit intimidation and elegance.

At a glance, he made the whole crowd go crazy. Cheers and chants broke out as his voices filled the air, a blend of admiration and reverence. The man seemed to have assembled his army in the desert to concoct something grand.

He stood there, a man in black, raising his armsslowly. He acknowledged the energy of the crowd, commanded every ounce of their attention as he stood before them. His eyes, unrevealed behind the cloth, were locked onto the horizon as if he saw beyond them, beyond everything to something only he could see.

And then suddenly, the mood changed. The air seemed heavy, and the two figures emerging from the shadows.

"Raise your arms,"

Albert commanded, his voice cold, almost devoid of emotion.

The crowd fell silent as the man in black slowly lowered his arms and stood still, a statue of power and mystery. Albert and Bhalla approached him, their movements deliberate. Bhalla held a gun, his expression unreadable, while Albert's gaze never wavered from the figure in front of him.

He was a man in black, running with the wind; he moved across the desert in one swift motion, running like a blur as his powerful strides ate away at the distance. The crowd gasped, awe-stricken by the beginning of the chase.

"After him!" 

Albert barked, his voice sharp and unwavering. Bhalla Singh was right behind him, the two men following with ruthless precision. But the man in black was fast—too fast. He leaped over rocks, dashed through the ruins, and evaded their every move.

They chased each other in the deserts, the desert winds swirling around them. The man in black appeared to know every move they would make, being always ahead of them, just as if the chase itself were a game he was going to win.

Then, just as it seemed like he might slip away, a shot rang out. The man in black staggered, but he didn't fall. A bullet had grazed him, but it didn't seem to slow him down. He turned, his expression hidden, but there was something about his posture—something about the way he held himself—that told Albert and Bhalla they were dealing with more than just a man.

Finally, they were able to put a bullet in the man's chest.

Albert's face hardened, his grip tightening on his gun.

"I've waited years for this," he said, his voice like ice. "It's an end to your deeds, my friend."

The man in black didn't respond. He didn't even flinch. He simply continued running with his wounds as though he had already accepted the inevitable.

But then, after some time, he fell. His body crumpled to the ground, slowly, deliberately, like a warrior who had fought his final battle. He lay there in the sand, his chest still and unmoving.

Albert approached him with slow, purposeful steps. He stood over the man in black, the weight of the moment settling in. The crowd, once roaring with excitement, now stood in stunned silence.

"Time's up," 

Albert mumbled, his scrunched-up eyes fixing him with an unblinking stare.

Well, the desert wind went over the scene, waving goodbye with unanswered questions. The crowd sat in awe and silence as their leader was caught.

Who was the man in black? Why did Albert call him "my friend"? How did we end up in the Thar Desert when everything began in New Delhi?