A Desperate Escape and the Unseen Shadows
Vaibhav walked through the dimly lit streets of the city, his mind clouded with fear and uncertainty. He now held a dangerous secret—one that could change everything. But how could he tell Wick that Shristi was the traitor? There was no proof, and Wick loved her deeply.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden rustling of footsteps behind him. Before he could react, a shadow lunged at him from the alleyway.
A sharp, swift movement—someone else was there.
Shekhar.
With fluid precision, Shekhar intercepted the attack, knocking the assailant back with a fierce kick. More figures emerged from the shadows, dressed in identical dark attire, their faces hidden beneath masks.
"Vaibhav, run! Get out of here!" Shekhar shouted, positioning himself between Vaibhav and the attackers.
"But—" Vaibhav hesitated, torn between staying and fleeing.
"You don't understand! If you stay, we'll both be in trouble. Go! Inform the others!" Shekhar ordered.
Gritting his teeth, Vaibhav turned and ran, his heart pounding. Behind him, Shekhar faced three attackers alone.
Shekhar smirked. "Is that all you've got?"
One of the masked men lunged forward, but Shekhar twisted effortlessly, dodging and countering with a devastating punch to the ribs. Another swung at him from the side, but Shekhar ducked, delivering a crushing knee to his opponent's stomach.
He was holding his ground—until something blurred past him.
A force too fast to see struck him from behind.
Pain exploded in his ribs.
Before he could react, Shekhar collapsed to the ground.
---
Vaibhav sprinted through the empty streets, trying to catch his breath. His legs burned, but he couldn't stop. He had to find help.
But before he could get far, more figures emerged from the shadows.
Vaibhav skidded to a halt. They had him surrounded.
A hand gripped his shoulder. He turned, fists clenched—only to find himself staring into the familiar faces of his friends.
Suraj, Shyam, and Ashwin.
"Who the hell are these guys?" Suraj asked, sizing up the masked figures.
"Doesn't matter," Shyam replied.
"Yeah, yeah. First, we show them what we're made of," Ashwin smirked.
Vaibhav blinked in confusion. "Wait a second… we?"
Ashwin slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, dude. You're our friend. It doesn't matter if this is The Shield's problem or yours—we've got your back."
Vaibhav swallowed hard. "Then let's do this."
The fight erupted.
At first, they held their ground. But their enemies were skilled, relentless. One by one, Vaibhav and his friends were overpowered. They lost.
All four of them lay on the ground, battered and bruised.
Then—
A sound.
A low, ominous roar of an engine cutting through the silence.
The masked attackers turned, their expressions shifting from confidence to uncertainty.
The unmistakable growl of a motorcycle grew louder.
Then another.
The attackers panicked, scattering like insects as two bikes came speeding toward them.
Vaibhav, still dazed, struggled to lift his head. He squinted through the rain—his vision clearing just enough to recognize the riders.
Deep.
Dev.
The two minds of The Shield.
Deep skidded to a stop, stepping off his bike with the ease of a seasoned fighter. Rain dripped from his hair, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield.
One of the masked men rushed at him.
Bad decision.
Deep sidestepped effortlessly, twisting the attacker's wrist and flipping him onto the pavement in one swift motion.
Another came at him. Deep didn't even look—he simply ducked and countered with a precise elbow to the throat, sending his opponent choking to the ground.
Meanwhile, Dev had joined the fray. Though known for his strategy rather than combat, his movements were fast and controlled. He dodged a swing, grabbing his attacker's arm and using their own momentum to slam them into a wall.
Within minutes, the tide had turned. The attackers were either unconscious or fleeing.
The battle was over.
Vaibhav groaned, pushing himself up. His ribs ached. "Deep… I thought you guys didn't fight. You always stay out of these things."
Deep cracked his knuckles. "What did you just say?"
Vaibhav gulped. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"
Dev exhaled, brushing dust off his sleeves. "We're not always on the frontlines, but when we do step in… we end things."
Vaibhav nodded in awe.
Sharad, the fourth-division captain of The Demolition, gritted his teeth, realizing their loss.
Dev turned to him. "We should go on the offensive. I know where their hideout is."
Deep smirked. "Then let's make them regret this."
To be continued…