#18 : THE NAME I BURIED.

Agnidwar – Inner Hall

I wasn't supposed to remember her.

Not here.

Not now.

But I did.

Her eyes. Her voice. That cold little smile she wore now—like the world was clay in her hands.

And suddenly—

I wasn't standing in a war-torn building surrounded by enemies.

My memories were back in a classroom.

Fifteen years old.

Numb.

Small.

Alone.

---

FLASHBACK — YEARS AGO

Desks were scratched with curses and hearts. Dust clung to ceiling fans that never spun. The teacher barely remembered names. Nobody cared.

I sat in the second row from the back. Always the same spot. Always the same silence.

I was that kid.

The quiet one.

The weird one.

The target.

They laughed at how I spoke. The way I dressed. My stutter. My silence. My second-hand shoes.

But then—

She sat beside me.

She smiled.

She talked.

She listened.

Her name?

Sana.

The only one who said it like it mattered.

I thought she was different.

I thought she was kind.

Until I saw her laugh with them.

With the ones who'd break my bag and spit in my water bottle.

The ones who left bruises where teachers wouldn't look.

They called it a game.

She called it fun.

I thought it was friendship.

And she watched me shatter.

Watched me beg them to stop.

Watched me cry.

Then looked away like I was nothing.

Like I never mattered at all.

---

Present – Agnidwar Inner Hall

Her face hadn't changed.

Older. Yes.

Colder. Yes.

But still the same Sana.

Now cloaked in white.

Now speaking like a prophet of some twisted salvation.

And I—

I remembered everything.

The ache in my chest wasn't fear.

It was recognition.

I know you.

"You are a scar of my past," I said quietly, voice shaking.

She tilted her head. "I never lied about who I was."

"No," I whispered, teeth clenched. "You just hid it better than anyone."

I raised my pistol again and fired.

Once. Twice.

A third time.

Three guards dropped.

But there were too many.

They charged.

Bullets ran dry.

No time to reload.

No room to breathe.

So I screamed—

And ran straight into them.

---

Fists cracked into visors.

Elbows tore through armor.

My knuckles split.

My ribs screamed.

But I didn't care.

I wanted them to bleed.

Not just for what they stood for.

But for everything they reminded me of.

Every laugh in that classroom.

Every slap I didn't see coming.

Every time I sat alone at lunch while she looked away.

One Serpent tried to tackle me.

I slammed him into the wall until the metal dented.

Another raised his blade.

I caught his wrist, twisted it until I heard the snap, and drove his own knife into his gut.

Blood sprayed across my face.

But all I saw was her.

Sana.

Still watching.

Still calm.

Still untouched.

---

Meanwhile – Agnidwar Central Floor

Rudra and Raaka were tearing the room apart.

Flesh against steel.

Skill against raw power.

History bleeding between each blow.

Rudra's arm was torn open, but he fought like it didn't matter. Like pain was background noise.

Raaka had a fractured cheekbone. Broken ribs. But he laughed through it all.

"You were always the loyal dog," Raaka spat, dodging a crushing strike. "They threw you out like garbage."

Rudra's blade barely missed his neck.

"I'm still standing."

"You should've stayed buried."

They clashed again.

Raaka drove his boot into Rudra's chest, sending him crashing through a support beam.

Dust filled the air.

But Rudra rose.

Wiping blood from his lips.

Silent.

Unyielding.

The air between them crackled now.

Like something unholy was about to snap.

---

Back in the Inner Hall

My fists were raw. Skin torn. Blood dripping down my arms.

The Serpent guards kept coming.

But slower now.

Hesitating.

Because they weren't fighting a gangster anymore.

They were fighting a demon. A monster made of rage and memory.

One lunged.

I grabbed him mid-air and drove his head into the floor.

Another swung a baton—

I took it across the face and smiled through the blood.

"You want to reprogram this city?" I growled.

"You want to rewrite people like me?"

I grabbed his throat.

"Then start with me."

I slammed him down so hard the floor cracked.

---

Sana still stood where she'd been.

Unmoving.

Unshaken.

The guards around her stepped forward again, but she raised a hand.

"Stop."

They obeyed.

She looked at me—not with hatred.

But with pity.

"You think this is about you, Amit? About your past?"

"It always was."

"No," she whispered. "That was just a ripple."

---

TO BE CONTINUED