See You in Delhi

"Some battles aren't fought with bullets. They're fought with who gets to tell the story when the dust settles."

And Delhi? Delhi was constructed from the dust of all the secrets the nation ever hid.

Location: En Route to Delhi – Unmarked SUV, Midnight

The roads were sewn with fog.

Samruddhi hadn't said a word in hours. Arpan drove in silence, fingers locked onto the wheel like they were attempting to crush the past.

In the backseat: the red USB, chilled and vibrating with encrypted poison.

And a black duffel containing arms they prayed they would never have to employ.

"Why Delhi?" she had finally asked.

He breathed. "Because that's where Devraj constructed the political backbone of his empire. And that's where it'll be interred."

She gazed out the window.

"And because that's where we were destined to end."

Flashback – Devraj's Private Chamber, 1999

Young Arpan hears through a paper-thin partition.

Devraj is on the phone:

"Ensure the files are delivered to the Parliament Archive Room 108.

If someone ever attempts to bury me, I want my shadow sitting behind every law they touch."

Arpan never forgot Room 108.

Here – South Delhi, Safehouse of Intelligence

Karishma welcomes them in the middle of the night.

Bandaged, limping, and considerably more pursued than before.

"I shouldn't have called you back," she says.

"You didn't," Arpan replies. "The war did."

She slides over intel sheets.

A file stamped:

"PROJECT: SHUDDHI CODE"

Classification: Parliamentary

Contents: Black-budget orders authorized by More Syndicate to cleanse internal dissent within crime syndicates, press, judiciary.

Samruddhi's breath catches.

"These files. they legalize genocide under a mask of reform."

Karishma nods.

"And Room 108 holds the original documents. Unredacted. With signatures."

Arpan closes his eyes.

"They'll kill to protect it."

Samruddhi says, "Then let them try."

Meanwhile – Parliament Basement, Room 108

In a vault protected by biometric locks and ghost-clearance IDs, a face inserts a new file into the archive.

It's Kavya.

No longer Arpan's friend. No longer anyone's shadow.

She whispers into a hidden mic.

"They're coming. Let them see the truth. But let it destroy them first."

Scene: Old Delhi Rooftops, 2 AM

Anvaya, presumed dead, stands next to a projector screen showing intercepted video of Arpan and Samruddhi crossing the border into Delhi.

A battalion of street children, radicalized orphans, and veteran underworld defectors convene.

"This is not revenge any longer," he affirms.

"This is closure."

He distributes tired VCR tapes with Parliament seals.

"Leak these the moment they reach Room 108. Let the people know. their gods are still thieves."

Next Day – Parliament Grounds, Undercover

Karishma enters Gate 2 along with Samruddhi dressed as an intern.

Arpan arrives separately, as a visiting Nagaland bureaucrat.

Their task: Go to Room 108. Get the unredacted SHUDDHI files. Leak them worldwide.

They have 18 minutes until Kavya's planned diversion kicks in—the blackout.

Within Room 108 – 11:43 AM

Samruddhi opens the vault. The files are present.

Physical. Real. History's wounds stamped on paper.

She picks up one. Reads out loud:

"Authorized Disappearances – Operation 'Clean Silence'"

Date: April 17, 2004

Target: Jai Jadhav

Signed: P. Rathore, Cabinet Secretary (then)

Syndicate Order: Devraj More

Her knees weaken.

"My father… was erased legally."

Arpan whispers, "We all were."

Sudden Power Cut – Kavya's Blackout Begins

Cries in the corridor.

Gunfire. Somebody's deployed a backup kill team.

Karishma shouts: "We're blown! Extract now!"

Arpan throws her a hard drive.

Samruddhi looks at him.

He nods. "I told you. No crowns. Only truth."

They kiss once—swift, sharp, definitive.

Then divide.

Final Scene – Delhi Streets, 6 PM Broadcast

Each big news channel starts playing a single statement.

Karishma's voice:

"The SHUDDHI CODE is no fiction. It's law. Enacted in secrecy, paid for in blood. Concealed by those who govern both crime and constitution."

"This is your history. Take it back."

Indian screens flicker.

Protests erupt immediately.

But deep within this crowd, a girl holding a sniper rifle looks at two figures walking away from Parliament, blurred.

She queries her earpiece:

"Confirm: Fire?"

A voice responds:

"Only if they look back."

They don't.

Because Arpan and Samruddhi were never supposed to look back again.

[Chapter 22 Ends]