The morning light crawled over the broken skyline like a reluctant whisper. Smoke curled from collapsed buildings, and lone crows circled above, their cries slicing the silence.
Inside the laundromat, the group looked like ghosts of themselves.
Ayush sat on the floor, back against a dented dryer, eyes wide open but empty. He looked like he'd been awake for years.
Across the room, Kartik finished tying a makeshift bandage on Riya's ankle. She winced but bit down on a rag to stop from crying out. Shivam paced near the boarded window, his fingers drumming anxiously on the hilt of his knife.
Suraj sorted the few remaining supplies: a half-bottle of water, two instant noodle packets, a few loose bandages.
Ananya watched Ayush, searching for any hint that he might break under the weight of it all.
Finally, Kartik couldn't hold it in.
"How long are we going to keep running?" His voice was rough, halfway between a question and a challenge.
Ayush didn't answer.
Kartik stood. "I'm talking to you!"
Ayush slowly raised his gaze, his eyes distant but sharp.
"You think I wanted any of this?" he finally said, voice low.
Kartik scoffed, stepping forward. "Maybe not. But look at us. You say 'trust me, we'll survive'—but all we do is lose people. You think you can save everyone just because you trained with him once? You think you're the hero?"
Ayush flinched, just slightly.
Ananya stepped between them, her palms up. "Stop it. This isn't helping."
Kartik's eyes burned. "If we keep following him, we're dead."
"No." Her voice sliced through the air. "We're alive because of him. You think you can lead us better? Go ahead."
Kartik looked around, breathing hard. No one stepped forward to join him.
Ayush looked at Kartik. "You're right. I can't promise we'll all survive. But I can promise this—if we keep running, we'll die tired and cornered. If we fight… maybe we stand a chance."
Silence.
Then Kartik's shoulders sagged. "Fine. But if we're fighting… we do it together."
A flicker of something almost like relief crossed Ayush's face.
He stood, looking at each of them in turn. "Tomorrow morning… we stop running. We fight back. We pick the ground, set the traps. Make him come to us."
Suraj swallowed hard. "You're serious?"
Ayush nodded. "Rahul is a predator. We stop being prey."
High above them, on a half-collapsed hospital rooftop, Rahul peered through a cracked telescope scope. He watched them closely—body language, gestures, the tension in their movements.
When Kartik yelled, Rahul smirked.
"Cracks in the wall," he whispered to himself. "Good. Break them from inside first."
He set the scope down and turned toward the edge of the roof.
A small group of teenage survivors moved through the street below, eyes frantic. They saw Rahul.
One of them waved desperately. "Hey! Please! Help us!"
Rahul tilted his head, almost curious. He descended the ruined stairwell without a sound.
When he stepped into the street, they nearly fell over themselves with relief.
"Oh thank god, we thought you were with the army—" one of them sobbed.
Rahul placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're safe now."
The boy exhaled shakily—only for Rahul to suddenly drive the combat knife into his stomach.
The second teenager screamed and tried to run, but Rahul grabbed her hair and dragged the blade across her throat.
The third dropped to her knees, shaking uncontrollably. "Please… please don't…"
Rahul crouched down, close enough that she could see every line in his cold eyes.
"You will survive," he whispered, tilting her chin up gently. "Tell them I'm coming."
Then he stood and walked away, leaving her trembling and sobbing next to her friends' bodies.
Back at the laundromat, Shivam peered through a small vent and suddenly froze.
"Ayush…"
Ayush moved to the window.
Outside, crawling across the street on broken limbs, was an infected girl. Her hair was tied in a red scrunchie. Her blazer hung in shreds—12th-A badge still clinging to the fabric.
Ayush's breath stopped.
Aliya.
Kartik moved forward, his expression twisted in rage. "Let me finish her!"
Ayush blocked him, voice hoarse. "No."
"Why the hell not?!" Kartik roared, stepping closer.
Ayush swallowed. "She was his. Rahul's… world."
A heavy, horrified silence spread through the room.
Riya's voice cracked. "He's using her… to break you."
Ayush closed his eyes, images flashing—Rahul's arm around her in the gym hallway, her laughter echoing at the rooftop track, Rahul's proud voice: "This is Aliya… my world."
Ananya stepped forward, placing her hand on Ayush's wrist. "This isn't your fault."
Ayush didn't respond.
A few blocks away, two figures moved carefully through the wreckage.
Leon adjusted his thermal binoculars, scanning for movement. "Signals. Multiple. One large, anomalous heat signature… likely Rahul."
Ethan loaded a dart into his tranquilizer rifle. "HQ's orders are final. We bring Ayush in. No exceptions."
Leon hesitated. "There are civilians with him. This isn't a clean op."
Ethan didn't look up. "I don't care. He's the mission."
Leon stayed quiet, eyes tightening behind the scope.
That night, Ayush gathered the others in a tight circle inside the laundromat.
"No more running," he said, voice low but electric. "Tomorrow morning, we prepare traps. We fortify. We hold this ground and make him come to us."
For the first time, there was no argument. No hesitation.
Kartik finally nodded. "We end this."
Suraj stepped forward, gripping Ayush's shoulder. "With you."
Ananya's hand found Ayush's. "Always."
Riya and Sanaa exchanged a look, then both stepped in, determined.
In that broken, dusty room, they became more than a group of survivors. They became a team again.
On the rooftop, Rahul stood with the blood-soaked combat knife resting across his shoulders.
A soft wind pulled at his hair as he stared toward the laundromat's faint glow.
His lips curled into a cold smile.
"They finally want to fight," he murmured.
He lowered the knife, eyes glinting with a hungry excitement.
"Good."
He turned, walking into the shadows.
"Let's make it personal."