Chapter 3 - "The Extraction"

8 Hours Ago

A man sat in his dark study his fingers tapping lightly against a worn-out checklist of food, resources, and weaponry.

He received a call, and when he picked it up, he only heard one sentence—

"The time has come. You have to come out of hiding now."

The call cut off.

So quickly? Shit. He took a deep breath, his body rigid as the weight of the words sank in. He didn't hesitate, rushing towards a secret door in the floor and slamming it open to disclose an underground room.

He hit a button on the terminal. A mechanical voice resonated through the room:"SELF-DESTRUCTION INITIATED. DATA AND EQUIPMENT BEING TRANSFERRED."

He rushed to get dressed, loaded all that he needed—right down to a photo of him and Varun, grinning and joking around.

I won't let them take you.

After getting far enough from the house to be safe, he looked at his screen. The countdown became zero.

BOOM—the whole underground basement was blown to smithereens, covering up all signs of evidences.

When the dust had cleared, he took out his shades and commanded, "Come to me."

In seconds, a high-tech car with a matte grey finish and blue-lit trims raced towards him. The door opened automatically, and he stepped in.

He checked Varun's location and accelerated toward him.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He had Varun in his line of vision now. Varun is being chased by them.

Something was off.

Varun's car was traveling at top speed—too fast—moving in a crazy zigzag across the crowded roads.

Then, suddenly, both Varun and his attackers were gone. No skid marks. No noise. No sign.

While he was in a state of shock, he suddenly remembered something. "Vyom!," he muttered within himself.

Not good. He floored it, cranking the engine to the limit.

Within seconds, he reached Varun's house. It was unharmed.

He used a grappling hook to climb onto the roof in one smooth motion. Looking around the house, he knew regular thermal vision wouldn't cut it—Varun had employed 'those' to conceal the boy.

So, he employed a ??? It was strange but cozy. He whispered something magical, and the house flashed briefly before showing a round door on the roof.

Without delay, he swooped in like a ghost and began to verify the environment.

The study room was chilly, littered with research documents. Too much evidence. He began copying all the research to the hard disk that he had brought along.

After finishing the transfer, he sat on the sofa relaxing himself for a bit as he was sweating from fear from past few hours. The past few hours had been a damn nightmare.

Then—

BANG!

A furious thud against the front door.

No time.

The news had already spread. The public believed the lies. The rage was real.

Immediately, he blasted the roof door open, cut through the disguised bedroom wall, and disappeared into the darkness.

With quick finesse, he administered an anesthetic to the boy and kidnapped him.

A set of weary, watchful eyes observed the unconscious boy lying on the cot. Bhanumithra let out a slow breath, his fingers shaking minutely as he fiddled with the biometric locks on the underground facility. The heaviness of the moment weighed upon him like an iron shackle.

"We knew this day would come," he grumbled, looking at a tattered photo on the terminal display—a photo of him and his best friend, smiling, having no idea the storm that would someday rip them asunder.

His fingers formed into a fist. Damn it. We had thought we had more time.

They had always known that the research was risky. A discovery of this size… it was sure to make enemies. But none of them had anticipated things to escalate this fast. The plan had been straightforward: extract the child, hide him from public, and allow him to lead a normal life free from all this.

That was what his father had wished.

But fate had never been kind to those who challenged the unknown.

A sudden gasp snapped him out of his thoughts. Vyom's eyes shot open, panic flickering in them as he jolted upright.

"You're awake," Bhanumithra said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

Vyom blinked to try and get used to the environment. His breaths were erratic. His brain struggled to fit the broken pieces of his last recollection together. The attack… and the darkness.

A numbing pain seared at the back of his skull as he attempted to sit up completely. He turned his head around and saw someone he had believed was long gone—his godfather, Bhanumithra.

"Dada!?" he exclaimed, his voice stunned and incredulous, as though he had been seeing a ghost.

"Don't be afraid, kiddo. I'm here. I was the one who brought you here. It was an emergency."

"Emergency?"

"Yes, it is."

"Where is my dad? Did he go to the office?"

Bhanumithra paused, his face impassive. "You have to rest first. You've been out for quite some time."

Something about his tone felt… off. But Vyom was too exhausted to press further. His head ached, and his thoughts felt sluggish. He let himself sink back into the cot, his breathing slowing.

"Get some sleep. We'll talk later." Bhanumithra stood up and walked away.

But Vyom couldn't shake off the unease settling deep in his bones.

2 DAYS LATER

Vyom spent the first day adjusting to his surroundings, but by the second, he couldn't ignore the tension any longer.

"Where is he?" he finally demanded, standing in front of Bhanumithra. "You keep avoiding my questions. Tell me the truth."

Bhanumithra remained silent for a long time. Then, with a heavy sigh, he finally spoke.

He turned on the terminal screen. A news broadcast filled the room.

Vyom's breath caught as he looked at his father's face on the screen—not an obituary, but an accusation. A damning one.

VARTA RESEARCHER TURNS TRAITOR – DIES IN EXPLOSION DURING ESCAPE ATTEMPT!

"That's… that's a lie! My father wasn't a traitor!"

Bhanumithra's stern face didn't waver. "I know. But that's what they're trying to make everyone believe."

He breathed deeply before going on. "Varun was attempting to flee. He knew they were pursuing him. In the course of the pursuit, he called me… informed me of everything. The corruption, the betrayal, the true reason they wanted him killed. He instructed me to rescue you before it was too late. And then… the explosion occurred."

It was a falsehood he said to Vyom—to shield him.

Vyom clenched his fists. Rage and despair swirled within him.

"You could have saved him," he breathed. "You could have—"

"I tried, but I was too late," Bhanumithra cut in. "Varun wanted you to be safe."

Vyom stormed off into a room, turning his back. Bhanumithra understood his actions as he was still a kid.

For twenty-one days, he kept to himself, drowning in rage and sorrow. He did nothing but screaming, punching walls, refilling his energy with the minimum amount food and repeat. The weight of loss crushed him, leaving him in the darkest state he had ever known.

On the twenty-second day, he ventured out. Fresh air coursed through his lungs for the first time in weeks. His mind was still clouded, but something deep within him drove him on. His gaze rested on the tiny box he'd seen the morning he'd come but had forgotten.

Curious, he picked it up. It contained a cube—one he immediately recognized. Varun's puzzle.

He turned it in his hands, his fingers moving instinctively. Click. Click. Click. The pieces aligned, and then—

A soft blue light flickered to life. A holographic projection emerged. His father's face appeared, eyes filled with warmth and sorrow.

A soft blue glow ignited. A holographic image manifested. His father's face floated before him, eyes brimming with warmth and grief. "Kiddo," the voice echoed. "If you're watching this, then I am no longer here with you. I am… sorry. Sorry for pulling you in on this. Sorry for leaving you behind. But I might have miscalculated something even knowing the risk, if you're watching this."

The boy's breath caught as he listened.

"I wanted you to carry on my legacy, but not like this. Not if it meant meeting the same end. I left you everything you would need to survive. Identities, funds… Bhanu will protect you and carry on the research. But above all, I always wanted and want you to be happy even now. That is my last wish. And, lastly - SORRY, Vyom." The message ended with the hologram kneeling on ground while uttering his last words.

The message disappeared. There was silence in the room.

Tears ran down the boy's face. He hadn't been crying since the day. Now, the gates burst open. Grief and anger and love and all rushed out in one uncontrolled flow.

But there was something beneath it all—something that burnt—a new fire of determination. He clenched his fists, wiped his tears, and stormed out of the room. He knew where Bhanumithra would be.

The control room.

He discovered him there, hunched over the console, gazing at the same old photograph. A photograph of two men—his father and the godfather, smiling in a bygone era. Silent tears streamed down the Bhanumithra's face.

Without a thought, the boy moved forward and hugged him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For what I said. For everything."

Bhanumithra took a deep breath and ruffled his head. "You've been through hell, kid. No one can blame you."

There was a moment of silence between them before Vyom finally broke away, his eyes set with determination.

"I'm going to clear his name. And finish what he started."

Bhanumithra's eyes grew dark. "No. You don't know what you're getting into."

"I don't care." The boy took a step forward, his determination unflinching. "You said my father wanted me safe. But he also wanted the truth revealed. So, I will do it."

Bhanumithra exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. He didn't want to do this—he had vowed to keep this boy safe, not make a soldier of him. But when he saw the same passion in the boy's eyes that Varun used to have, he wavered.

"…Alright," he finally spoke, his tone low. "But if we're going to do this, we do it my way. No reckless emotional moves."

Vyom nodded, fists still bunched. "Then let's get started."

Bhanumithra played with the kid's hair and told him "you know where to hit it, kiddo"

Vyom grinned "You know who I take after, right.