Year 2023

  The faint hum of city life seeped through the walls of a modest two-room apartment. Vishal sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the blank wall ahead. His room was stark, devoid of any decorations or personal touches, save for a single framed photograph of his family. His gaze lingered on the faces of his parents, frozen in a happier time, before he let out a quiet sigh.

  "Vishal, wake up. It’s your result day," Riya’s voice called from the kitchen.

  "I’m awake," he replied curtly, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

  "Then come help me. I don’t have all day to wait for you," she teased, but her voice softened. She knew Vishal wasn’t one for morning conversations.

  Vishal emerged from his room, his movements deliberate. He had grown taller, his lean frame carrying an air of quiet strength. His sharp features mirrored his stoic demeanor, but his eyes softened slightly when they landed on his sister.

  Riya placed a plate of parathas on the table. "Eat first, then help me clean. And don’t forget to check your results later."

  He nodded silently, sitting down to eat.

  By 3 p.m., Vishal sat at the computer, his face unreadable as he entered his seat number and his mother’s name into the results portal. Riya stood behind him, fidgeting nervously.

  The screen loaded.

  "99.97 percent," he said flatly, though his lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile.

  "You did it!" Riya beamed, wrapping her arms around him. "I knew you could do it!"

  Vishal stiffened for a moment before awkwardly patting her shoulder. "It’s just a number, Riya. Don’t make a big deal out of it."

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  "Not a big deal? You’re incredible!" Riya said, her eyes shining. "Shahi paneer tonight—your favorite!"

  Later that evening, Riya handed him money. "Get 250 grams of paneer, and use the leftover for whatever snacks you want."

  Vishal took the money without a word and stepped out into the cool evening air. The streets were busy, but Vishal’s presence was commanding. People instinctively gave way, sensing his composed but distant aura.

  At the dairy, he purchased the paneer quickly, avoiding unnecessary conversation. As he walked back, his instincts pricked at the back of his mind. He noticed the shadows trailing him before he heard the footsteps.

  He stopped abruptly. "You’re not very subtle," he said coldly, turning around.

  Three masked men stood behind him, one holding a small spray canister. Before Vishal could react, the man sprayed something into his face. He stumbled but stayed upright, his vision blurring momentarily.

  The first man lunged at him with a punch, but Vishal sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a swift punch to the stomach. The attacker crumpled, gasping for air.

  The remaining two charged simultaneously. Vishal moved with calculated precision, his movements efficient and powerful. Within seconds, both men lay unconscious on the ground.

  Vishal stepped toward the man clutching his stomach. "Who sent you?" he demanded, his voice low and icy.

  Before the man could answer, Vishal felt his legs weaken. His vision darkened as the tranquilizer took effect.

  The last thing he saw was the man barking orders to his companions. "Take him to the van. Quickly."

  The world faded to black as Vishal was dragged away, the sound of a van door slamming shut echoing in his mind.