#17 : SPLINTERED TRUTHS
Agnidwar – Central Floor – 02:18 HRS
Steel clashed.
Bones cracked.
Blood hit the floor like clockwork.
Raaka moved like a phantom—fast, brutal, technical. But Rudra wasn't just power. He was precision. Discipline hardened by betrayal.
They circled each other, the chaos of the breached facility thundering around them.
Raaka grinned through blood. "Still stiff with honor, Rudra? That crap got your squad killed."
Rudra didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
He ducked under Raaka's slash and struck his ribs with a crushing knee.
Raaka staggered. But smiled.
That smile—
It triggered something.
A flicker.
A face.
A flash of desert wind.
And then Rudra remembered.
---
FLASHBACK — YEARS AGO
The same training compound.
Rudra and Raaka. Same squad.
Brothers in uniform. Covered in dust and sweat, sparring under the scorching sun.
Rudra had trusted him.
Until the operation in Kutch.
Until the civilians died.
Until the report was rewritten.
Raaka's voice in the tribunal echoing lies.
"Rudra disobeyed orders. Compromised the team."
They believed him.
Because Raaka had already made his choice.
He sided with them.
The ones who wanted power over peace.
The ones Rudra refused to kneel for.
---
Present
"You sold your soul," Rudra muttered, rage seeping into his voice.
Raaka's smirk grew wider. "I adapted. You… crawled into the dirt with thugs."
Rudra's blade scraped the floor as he straightened.
"You made me."
Then charged.
Their battle tore through the room—cabinets shattered, floors dented, walls cracked.
Raaka ducked a punch, elbowed Rudra in the throat, and sliced across his shoulder.
Rudra grunted.
But didn't slow down.
Vijay, now soaked in blood from downed Serpent elites, turned just in time to see Rudra slam Raaka through a concrete support beam.
He whistled. "Remind me never to piss that guy off."
---
Meanwhile – Agnidwar Inner Hall
I stood still.
She didn't.
The woman in the white shawl moved with impossible calm. Like this was all part of some divine script she had memorized.
Her face—
Now I remembered.
Not just the eyes.
Not just the voice.
Everything.
But the memory wasn't sharp enough yet.
Just pain.
Just familiarity soaked in something deeper.
Betrayal.
She stepped forward slowly, her voice smooth and haunting.
"You finally see."
I said nothing.
Her lips curled into a near-smile. "You were always meant for more, Amit."
"You think you know me," I said coldly.
She nodded. "I do know you."
"You knew who I was," I snapped. "Not who I've become."
She studied me.
"You've become a product of grief. A slave to vengeance. But you could be so much more."
She spread her hands, voice echoing off the hollow stone walls.
"The White Serpents are not a gang. We're evolution."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're running a cult."
"We're building order. Purpose. The city is broken, Amit. It doesn't need saving. It needs reprogramming."
I clenched my jaw. "And what? You rewrite people?"
She tilted her head.
"Yes."
"Through orphans? Through kids like B-17?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Fury surged through me.
"You take children with no homes… and turn them into weapons?"
She smirked, "They had nothing before us. We gave them identity. Family. Cause."
I stepped forward.
"I was one of those kids."
Her gaze didn't flicker.
"You still are."
That did it.
I lunged.
But the moment I moved—
Guards emerged.
Dozens.
From the shadows. From behind the walls. From the ceiling vents.
Clad in bone-white armor. Eyes glowing red through visors.
I was surrounded.
She stayed still.
Watching.
Always watching.
"You're angry," she said. "But in time… you'll understand."
I drew my pistol, my hands trembling—not with fear, but fury.
"You're going to understand me first."
The first guard stepped forward.
I fired once.
He dropped.
And then they all rushed me.
I gritted my teeth.
And dove in.
---
TO BE CONTINUED