Trial by Fire

Surya adjusted his grip on the cold steel of his sidearm, his heartbeat steady despite the tension in the air. He stood in a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of Delhi, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. It felt real—too real for a mere test. But he knew RAW's ways. They never made things easy.

This was the final stage of his recruitment: a simulated mission designed to push recruits to their limits. Only a handful would pass. The rest would either be reassigned or eliminated from the program entirely.

A deep voice crackled through his earpiece. "Your objective: eliminate an ISI spy suspected of infiltrating our intelligence network. No support. No second chances."

Surya smirked. He had already died once. What was one more risk?

Reborn with all the skills and experience he had in his past life, Surya was no ordinary recruit. Every maneuver, every tactic he had mastered before his assassination was still ingrained in his mind. He wasn't just an eager candidate anymore—he was a seasoned operative disguised as a fresh recruit.

The mission details were sparse—just like real intelligence work. His target, known only as "Hawk," had compromised classified Indian intelligence and was set to disappear within the hour. Surya had to locate and neutralize him before that happened.

The warehouse was eerily silent. A single bulb flickered above a rusting metal desk, casting long shadows. Surya's instincts flared. He crouched low, stepping forward with practiced ease. He knew an ambush when he saw one.

Then—it happened. A shot rang out. Surya dived behind a stack of crates as bullets whizzed past. His training kicked in. Counting the shots, measuring the reload time—these weren't just instructors playing a role. This was an actual combat scenario. Someone wanted him dead.

The muzzle flash of his opponent's weapon gave him a target. In a swift motion, he aimed and fired. A pained grunt followed. One down. But there were more.

Moving quickly, he advanced, keeping low. His enemies were disciplined, moving in formation. Too professional for a standard recruitment test.

Surya didn't have time to analyze the situation. He focused solely on eliminating his targets.

A figure lunged at him from the side. He pivoted, using his attacker's momentum to throw him against a crate. A swift elbow strike to the throat ended the fight. Another enemy down.

Then he saw him—Hawk. The ISI spy stood at the far end of the warehouse, gun in hand, smirking. "You guys seem late," he said, his tone laced with mockery.

Surya didn't wait for pleasantries. He fired. Hawk dodged, returning fire as he moved toward an exit. Surya gave chase, bullets tearing through crates and steel beams. Hawk was fast, but Surya was faster.

The chase ended in a dark corridor. Hawk swung first, a knife flashing in his grip. Surya blocked, countering with a strike to his ribs. The two men exchanged blows in a deadly dance, each move meant to kill. But Surya had lived through real death. He wasn't about to lose now.

One well-placed strike to the throat, and Hawk staggered, gasping for air. Blood dripped from his lips as he chuckled weakly. "At least... I will kill some before I die," he rasped, reaching for a hidden pistol.

Surya didn't hesitate. He pressed his gun to the spy's forehead and pulled the trigger.

Silence.

A slow clap echoed from above. A balcony overlooked the warehouse, and from the shadows stepped a figure Surya recognized—the recruitment officer. His sharp gaze held approval, but there was something else beneath it. Something unreadable.

"Congratulations, Devil," the officer said. "Welcome to RAW."

Surya exhaled, lowering his weapon. Hawk never knew who he truly was—he had no idea that the fresh recruit before him was actually the infamous Devil, the RAW agent assassinated in Pakistan.

Even if Surya had failed the mission, RAW would have suffered no loss. The intelligence Hawk had managed to pass to ISI was fabricated, a carefully laid trap designed to mislead Pakistan's intelligence network. The test was never about preventing information leaks—it was about testing Surya's ability to handle real-world threats.

As Surya left the warehouse, he caught snippets of hushed conversations among the other agents. "How can a police recruit have these skills?" one whispered. "We weren't even expecting him to pass, let alone complete the mission so smoothly."

Another nodded. "Something's off about him."

"But his background check is clear," one of them added. "No military training, no prior experience—just a regular police recruit. And yet... he moves like a seasoned operative."

"Is he just naturally gifted?" another agent muttered. "Or is he something else entirely? A born assassin?"

Surya ignored their murmurs, his face emotionless. Let them wonder. As long as he stayed ahead of their suspicions, his second chance at life would be on his terms.