Chapter 26: Whales Dance With The Pirates...

Old Dabba...

Screams filled the old dabba. Bones cracked.

Steel rang. Bodies dropped.

Yet in the middle of it all—

Kaal-Nayan moved like a phantom, untouched, unreadable.

Outnumbered? Yes.

Outmatched? Not even close.

Each move was deliberate. Brutal.

A knee to the chest.

A jab to the throat.

One attacker went flying into a wooden pillar, splinters exploding on impact.

Across the room, two foreign terrorists—

Both hard-eyed, rough-skinned men in tactical vests—

Pressed their backs to the wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

One of them—

A scar-faced man with a thick foreign accent—

Grabbed Zarak's collar roughly.

"You said this meeting was safe! You said it was secure!"

The other, gritting his teeth, pointed to Kaal-Nayan,

Who had just flipped a man over his shoulder and into three others.

"What is this?! Some idiot in a cosplay outfit is beating the hell out of your men like they're schoolkids on recess!"

"You call this security?! A child could fight better than those fools!"

Their rage was real.

Their fear is even more so.

But Zarak?

He didn't flinch.

He calmly adjusted his jacket, straightened his cap, and gave them a sideways smirk as his men were picked off one by one.

His voice was cold, casual… almost amused.

"Relax."

"This is just… the opening act."

He raised a finger, gesturing to Kaal-Nayan's calculated dance of destruction.

"Let him show off."

Then, with a soft exhale, he added with mock sincerity:

"I did promise you a safe deal, and clearly… that's on us. So…"

"As compensation—after we win this little brawl—I'll give you a discount."

"Ten percent. For the inconvenience."

The terrorists exchanged a look—half-disbelief, half-horror.

But Zarak's eyes were now burning with interest.

Because while his men fell… he was studying.

Calculating. Wanting.

He didn't care about the lost deal anymore.

He only cared about one thing now—

'That power… That Astra… It's mine.'

Kaal-Nayan's glowing blue eyes blazed with fury as he slammed the bald man into the cracked, mould-ridden wall.

The man barely had time to scream.

Fists rained down like divine hammers—

One after another, fast, merciless, fueled by something deeper than rage.

Thud. Thud.

Crack. Thud.

Blood spattered against the walls.

Bones shattered beneath the relentless storm.

The man's face… it no longer resembled one.

It was a canvas of destruction—

Lips torn, eyelids swollen shut, skin hanging like ripped cloth, blood seeping through every crevice.

And then—

A voice echoed into Kaal-Nayan's earpiece.

"Rudra, stop. That one… the bald man."

Amirtha's voice was cold, mechanical, as she read from the scan.

"He's a Level-3 fugitive. A known rapist. Went dark after raping a minor boy two years ago. The case was buried."

Kaal-Nayan froze—

Not out of shock, but with grim satisfaction.

"Then he deserves every hit."

With a growl, he gripped the man's collar tighter and threw a final, devastating punch that echoed like a thunderclap.

The man dropped like a ragdoll—

Unconscious, broken, finished.

But that moment of focused fury…

That was exactly what Zarak had been waiting for.

His lips curled into a wicked grin.

"____"

Grin~ 

"Got you."

In one fluid motion, he pulled both hands from his coat pockets.

Each fist now bore a pair of gleaming knuckle-bracers—

Etched with intricate runes, pulsing faintly with violet energy.

They weren't ordinary weapons.

These were Astra.

"Let me introduce you,"

Zarak muttered, eyes gleaming,

"to my little friends…"

The metal surged with power, vibrating with a low hum as he flexed his fingers inside them.

"Shok'Nir,"

He said, naming the Astra—

"The Fangs of Silence."

A direct hit would send a crippling current through the body, instantly paralyzing the target's nervous system.

A hit to a vital?

Death within seconds.

And now—

Kaal-Nayan was open.

Just a second of distraction was all it took.

Zarak's body shifted, feet sliding silently across the dusty floor, fists clenched, preparing for a strike—

'The hunter was about to become the prey.'

There was only one thought in his mind.

He had not considered that his plan would fail because of his success, and his belief in his Astra prevented him from doubting and considering that he would lose.

Highland Leaf – Restaurant & Inn...

The Surveillance Room –

Back at The Highland Leaf – Restaurant & Inn, the surveillance room was buzzing with tension.

Junoo's eyes widened as the feed zoomed in on Zarak's hands.

"____"

"____"

Gurudev leaned forward, squinting at the knuckle bracers now glowing with red Astra energy.

"That's Shok'Nir..."

He muttered, his voice sharp.

"Paralytic-grade Astra. One clean hit and Rudra's heart could seize instantly."

His tone shifted from calm to command in seconds.

"Rudra! He's behind you. Zarak's moving in for a sneak attack! Deflect immediately!"

Old Dabba ...

Inside the dimly lit Dabba, Rudra—

Now fully donned as Kaal Nayan—

Stood amidst the wreckage of unconscious bodies.

The air was thick with blood and dust.

A faint buzz from his earpiece.

Then Gurudev's urgent voice rang in his mind.

He didn't flinch.

Didn't turn.

Instead, Kaal Nayan's eyes flicked toward a grimy side mirror hanging from the cracked pillar—

Just enough to glimpse what he needed.

"____"

Zarak's face.

That twisted smirk.

Those gleaming red bracers were glowing like coals.

And his movement—

Creeping forward like a snake, fists raised, aiming straight for the back of Rudra's heart.

"Just like last time,"

Zarak whispered under his breath,

"One hit. One corpse. One payday."

He swung.

But in the fraction of a second before the bracers connected—

CLANG!

Kaal Nayan spun on his heel and kicked an iron table backwards with brutal force.

It flipped up vertically like a steel shield.

Zarak's fist collided with it.

BOOM.

The Astra energy discharged on impact—

Sparks and smoke erupted from the dented metal, sending heat and a sharp vibration through the air.

Zarak staggered back, eyes widening in disbelief.

"____"

The iron table sizzled,

Its centre now seared with a smoking handprint-shaped dent.

"Tch... clever bastard,"

Zarak growled, lips curling in irritation.

"You ruined my encore."

Across from him, Kaal Nayan stood tall—

Unscathed, expression unreadable beneath the black mask.

But his glowing blue eyes burned brighter than ever.

The air felt thick, as if it held its breath.

Zarak's red-glowing bracers crackled with Astra energy, the metal hissing softly like a beast ready to bite.

The dented iron table still smoked nearby, a ghost of the strike that had nearly ended the fight before it began.

Kaal Nayan stood motionless, cape fluttering faintly.

Then he let out a short, mechanical chuckle—

His voice was disguised and distorted by the modulator in his mask.

Chuckle~ 

"So this is the man who betrayed Gaja?"

"You swing hard,"

He mocked, voice cold and metallic to provoke Zarak,

"But you miss harder."

Zarak's eyes twitched.

Rage bloomed.

"____"

"You little brat!"

He roared, his pride slashed deeper than any blade.

"I'll pulp that smug face through the wall!"

And then—

He lunged.

The floorboards cracked under his heavy step as he drove forward like a brawler in a frenzy,

Both fists swinging with the grace of a butcher and the precision of an executioner.

But Kaal Nayan was already moving.

Duck. Twist.

Step aside. Counter.

Each motion was sleek, sharp, and eerily silent.

His cape flowed with his movements like liquid shadow.

Zarak's first swing missed—

Whistling past Kaal-Nayan's shoulder.

The second—

Aimed for the ribs—

Was parried by a tactical elbow block.

CRACK!

A quick jab from Kaal-Nayan to Zarak's side.

But not deep enough—

Zarak twisted his body and went for an uppercut.

WHOOSH!

The punch grazed Kaal-Nayan's chin, missing his jaw by an inch.

"____"

He could feel the air sizzle with Astra as the red glow flashed past.

One hit, and it's over.

Don't get hit.

Not even once.

Zarak grinned wildly, breathing heavily through his nose.

Grin~ 

"You're fast, I'll give you that,"

He snarled.

"But I just need one touch, brat!"

BAM!

Kaal Nayan swept Zarak's legs with a low roundhouse, knocking him off-balance.

Before Zarak could recover, Kaal-Nayan drove a knee into his sternum—

But the thick combat vest absorbed most of it.

Zarak growled, spinning with a wild hook—

CLANG!

Kaal barely dodged.

The fist slammed into the metal beam behind him, sending a shockwave of energy that split the beam down the centre.

Sparks rained down like burning ash.

The entire fight was a brutal dance of speed and danger.

Zarak was a trained Brahmansh brute—

A killer who relied on instinct, aggression, and his devastating Astra weapon.

His defence increased several times while he was in aggressive mode.

Kaal Nayan was the ghost in the dark—

Like a tactician, using momentum, positioning, and precision.

Zarak kept coming, his attacks getting sloppier, angrier.

But Kaal-Nayan was studying him.

Dodging, blocking, feinting—

Not just to avoid the blows, but to learn.

Weight shift to the left.

Favouring the right side.

Bracers spark before each swing—0.7-second delay.

He only needed one opening.

One clean, uninterrupted chance.

And then—

He found it.

Zarak overcommitted—

Left fist swinging wide with a roar.

AHHH~ 

Kaal Nayan ducked low, slid beneath it, and slammed both fists into Zarak's knee with a vicious roar, sending the man stumbling forward.

Ahhhh~ 

Zarak screamed, collapsing to one knee.

CRACK!

Kaal's knee met Zarak's jaw with brutal force.

Zarak tumbled backwards, dazed—

But before he could recover, Kaal spun his staff from his back holster and smashed it into Zarak's side.

THUD!

Cough~ Cough~ 

Zarak coughed up blood.

His bracers sparked erratically, the energy flickering.

Kaal-Nayan stood above him now, chest heaving under the red-bordered suit, the KN emblem gleaming in the flickering light.

"That's the difference,"

Kaal Nayan said coldly.

"You rely on brute force... I rely on knowing everything before you move."

Zarak gritted his teeth, trying to stand—

His pride was bleeding more than his wounds.

Zarak let out a snarl, blood dripping from his mouth as he forced himself upright once again.

The crimson glow on his Astra-bracers flickered violently, unstable but still deadly.

He roared and lunged forward.

CRACK!

A boot met his face square on.

Kaal Nayan's kick landed with a brutal snap that echoed through the ruined hall.

Zarak's head jerked back violently—

His nose was crushed, his front teeth shattered, and his eyes rolled upward—

And he collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

No movement.

No groan. Nothing.

Just a broken man laid bare by his own greed and rage.

Kaal Nayan knelt silently, removing the Astra-bracers from Zarak's limp hands.

They still pulsed faintly with that red energy.

He examined them for a second, then slipped them into a sealed pouch inside his tactical utility belt—

Completely hidden from view.

That's when he turned.

The two remaining terrorists froze.

They'd been hoping the chaos would end.

They hadn't expected to become the centre of Kaal Nayan's focus.

"No need for more violence!"

The older one barked, raising his hands.

The second, younger man followed suit, palms raised above his head.

"We've got no quarrel with you,"

The first one continued, trying to sound confident but failing as his voice trembled.

"In fact… we're impressed. Very impressed."

Kaal Nayan tilted his head slightly, the blue glow of his eyes intensifying under the mask.

The second man stepped forward slightly, licking his lips nervously.

"We're businessmen, not fanatics. That thing—"

He pointed at the pocket where the bracers had disappeared,

"—We'd like to… buy it from you. Name your price."

"Anything,"

The first chimed in quickly.

"Gold. Gems. Information. Name it."

A long silence followed.

"____"

"____"

Only the quiet hum of failing lights and the occasional groan of a broken floorboard echoed in the room.

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, Kaal Nayan walked toward them.

One. Step. At.

A. Time.

They didn't move.

Fear rooted them.

He finally stopped inches away, towering over them like death in a cloak.

"You want a price?"

The voice that came from the modulator was like gravel and thunder.

"Here it is—your silence."

The older one blinked.

"Wh-what?"

"You walk away now,"

Kaal continued, his voice low but commanding,

"And forget everything you saw. You live. You come after me, or this,"

He tapped the hidden pouch,

"And next time… you won't get to offer money."

Then he leaned slightly forward.

"I don't deal in money. I deal in consequences."

The two men glanced at each other.

A moment of hesitation.

Then—

They turned and ran.

No more words.

No threat deals.

Just survival.

Kaal Nayan turned away, his footsteps echoing as he moved toward the exit, his cape flowing like a shadow retreating into the night.

From the earpiece, Junoo's voice crackled in:

"That was… terrifyingly smooth."

Amirtha added,

"Make sure to bring back the bracers. Guruji wants to examine it."

Kaal Nayan didn't respond.

He simply walked out of the bloodied old dabba.

Minutes After the Fight...

The room was in ruins.

Shattered furniture.

Bloodied men moaning or unconscious.

A dented iron table smouldering faintly from an Astra impact.

The eerie silence after chaos.

And on that iron table, placed with chilling calmness, was a single shuriken—

Sleek, matte-black metal forged with master craftsmanship.

In the centre of the blade, engraved with precision:

KN

The symbol gleamed faintly under the flickering ceiling light—

Kaal Nayan's signature.

Not just a calling card.

A warning.

A message.

Outside the Old Dabba...

The cold silence was broken by the wail of approaching sirens.

Red and blue lights flashed across the cracked walls.

Three police jeeps screeched to a halt.

Out stepped a tall, lean, and greying inspector—

Ravi, a man in his late 50s, dressed in plain uniform but with an aura that made younger constables straighten their backs.

His eyes scanned the building.

His hand instinctively brushed his side holster.

"Secure the perimeter. No media. No one in or out. Get medics in ten minutes. First, I want the living moved to our cells."

He spoke crisply. No shouting.

Just a calm authority.

The constables nodded and moved.

But as Ravi stepped through the broken entrance of the Dabba,

His mind replayed the call from earlier.

He'd been drinking tea outside the station, thinking about retiring.

Then his phone rang.

Unknown Number.

He almost didn't answer.

But then—

"Whales dance with the pirates."

Ravi froze on the spot, his fingers trembling slightly.

Only one group ever used that phrase.

Brahmanash.

And not just any agent.

Only someone stationed as the official Sector In-Charge—

Or a ranking field commander—

Had access to that phrase.

It had been four years since the last time he heard it.

The day Gaja died.

He remembered it vividly.

The blood. The betrayal.

The silence that followed.

No one came after.

No word. No one filled the void.

Until now.

"...He's back,"

Ravi had muttered under his breath, eyes wide.

Present...

Ravi walked through the battlefield.

He didn't flinch at the blood or broken bones.

He'd seen worse.

But what caught his eye was the small object on the iron table.

He walked toward it slowly, his eyes narrowing as the symbol came into view.

He picked up the shuriken delicately, holding it between his fingers like a sacred artefact.

KN.

He stared at it in silence for a long moment.

"So that's your name,"

He whispered.

A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.

Then a sigh.

"Let's hope… you're not like Gaja."

He tucked the shuriken into his coat and turned away, barking over his shoulder:

"Clean this mess. Log all the bodies. And find out if anyone saw anything."

He paused, almost to himself.

"Though something tells me… no one saw a damn thing."

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(Author's POV)

(A/N): 

Thanks for reading the chapter!

Please give a review!!! And power stone!!!

Which will motivate me more?