#21 : THE FIRST FANG BLEEDS
Crimson Fangs Temporary Hideout – 10:47 HRS
We were alive.
Burnt, bruised, broken—but alive.
Agnidwar was nothing but ash now, its twisted doctrine buried in fire and screams. Sana was gone. Raaka was dead. The second and third affiliates of the White Serpents had been eradicated.
But none of us felt victorious.
Yash cleaned the blood off his blades in silence. Meena nursed a fractured wrist, still reviewing the blackbox data we'd extracted. Vijay sat on the floor, staring into space. The weight of revenge fulfilled hung over him like a fading storm.
Rudra remained still—always still. His eyes weren't on us. They were on the board.
The wall-sized schematic.
A massive spiderweb of names, photographs, supply chains, and territories.
Lines were slashed across Raaka's face.
Across Sana's.
But at the top?
Still blank.
"Whoever runs the First Affiliate," Meena said, "they're ghosts. No files. No voice logs. Nothing."
"They're not ghosts," Rudra replied. "They're kings. And they were never meant to be seen."
Vijay finally spoke. "We took their army. Their weapons. Their recruits. What's left?"
Yash leaned forward, his voice hard. "The throne."
We all looked at the blank space at the top of the chart.
"The First Affiliate," I said quietly. "Isn't just a stronghold. It's the Serpent's head. The rest were just part of the tail."
A moment of silence.
Then Rudra tore down the center of the board with a blade.
"Then let's cut off the head."
---
Crimson Fangs HQ – 11:23 HRS
Blood pooled on marble floors.
Shell casings rolled to a stop beneath broken chandeliers.
The storm came fast. No warning. No mercy.
Over eighty White Serpents from the First Affiliate had descended on the Crimson Fangs' headquarters like a plague. Dressed in midnight armor and marked—an ouroboros tattoo, devouring itself in an endless loop.
They weren't random recruits.
These were elite.
Assassins. Enforcers. Purge Units.
By the time the alarms sounded, half the base was already overrun.
Lieutenant Darshan was gutted in the atrium. Executive Nabeel was shot through the spine. Security Chief Kulkarni tried to fight back with six men—and bled out at the base of the east stairwell.
Only one bodyguard remained between the attackers and the sanctum:
Mourad.
Kiyaan Malik's most trusted shadow.
He fought like ten men. Hands cracking bones, knives finding flesh, eyes burning with purpose.
But even Mourad could not fight fifty Serpents alone.
They overwhelmed him.
Cut him down, inch by inch.
He died near the door to Kiyaan's office—
Still standing.
Still facing forward.
---
Crimson Fangs HQ – 12:04 HRS
The elevator doors opened.
And Kiyaan Malik stepped out.
He was mid-40s now. Graying stubble. Lines across his face. But when he looked down the ruined hallway and saw Mourad's body—
The old rage returned.
The Black Fang rose again.
He knelt beside Mourad, gently closed his eyes.
Then stood.
He said nothing.
Just walked forward.
One Serpent stepped into the hallway.
He didn't even see the blade until it was in his throat.
Another tried to shoot.
Kiyaan hurled his trench coat at the man, blinding him, then drove a steel baton through his temple.
The hallway ignited.
Steel roared.
Serpents screamed.
One man. Fifty enemies. No hesitation.
He tore through them like a ghost possessed.
Broken bones. Split skulls. Exploded lungs. By the time the last Serpent tried to run, Kiyaan dragged him back by the leg and shattered every joint in his arm.
"This was my house," Kiyaan whispered, breathing hard.
"You came into my house."
Then crushed the man's skull under his boot.
---
Temporary Hideout – 13:17 HRS
We'd just begun mapping known Serpent assets when the reinforced door blew open.
Rudra moved first, drawing his knife—
Then froze.
Because standing there, breathing like a bull, covered in blood that Was Kiyaan Malik.
The room went silent.
No one dared speak.
He walked past us like a lion surveying the pack.
Stopped at the wall.
Stared at the torn schematic.
Then, without turning:
"Who took out Agnidwar?"
Meena spoke. "We did, sir. Amit led the op. Raaka's dead. Sana's gone. The children are safe."
Kiyaan finally turned. His voice was low. Controlled. But every syllable throbbed with fury.
"The First Affiliate sent fifty of their elite to my door. They killed Mourad. They destroyed half my house. They left a message in blood."
He threw a bloodstained patch onto the table.
It was Mourad's insignia—torn in half.
"They want war," he said.
I met his gaze. "They'll get one."
He nodded.
Then slammed a knife into the map.
"Then let's give them hell."
---
TO BE CONTINUED