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Act 5— A Step In Storm

  Tarun Singh stood in the middle of the street, now crowded with the Eternal Order.

  He took out a small earpiece from his pocket and calmly slid it into his ears— like a soldier getting prepared for war.

  Ten, or even more of the students slowly gathered around him, one holding an iron rod.

  They were merciless men— not high school boys anymore.

  Tarun didn't blink.

  His hand moved towards his right sleeve, gripped the fabric firmly and rolled it up smoothly.

  Everyone had seen it— but only the lucky ones could survive it.

  And the brawl began.

  An attacker charged, eyes blazing with rage.

  Tarun spun low, grabbed the man's leg and slammed him against the wall quicker than the scream could escape from his mouth.

  The second student moved the rod in a fluid motion and struck straight at Tarun's chest.

  But just before he could back away for another blow, Tarun grabbed his hand, twisted it and slammed him into another.

  The third attacker swept low, landing a low kick and lifting Tarun off the ground.

  But even mid-air, Tarun managed to spin and land a sharp kick to his jaw moments before he could get up.

  Tarun exhaled— his breath fogging in the humid weather. He didn't want to fight without a cause.

  But the day didn't give him any choices.

  One. Two. Three.

  He had already taken out dozens… but they still kept coming.

  More of them rushed towards Tarun, with flying kicks and punches, just when he was catching his breath.

  Then—

  The earpiece caught a faint signal.

  ——————————————

  The school corridors were empty.

  Not a single whisper echoed.

  But someone entered inside, with his bag slung over his shoulder.

  Rishabh Tiwari.

  Rishabh darted through the corridor, making sure that his steps didn't catch any attention.

  He was confident— Manav, and some of the Eternal Order were surrounding Principal Mehra.

  There was no mistaking it.

  He took a sharp turn and burst into the washroom door.

  Without wasting a second, he dropped his bag and unzipped a small pocket, pulling out a small earpiece.

  And as he put it on—

  "…You're late, buddy…"

  Tarun's voice was stable, though a massive fight crashed behind him.

  All that Rishabh heard was fists hitting flesh and bodies dropping down.

  His lips curled into a wide smile.

  "I had already warned you."

  Tarun gritted his teeth while barely dodging a lethal knife attack.

  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

  "Only when I'm right!"

  Rishabh's voice was calm, yet mischievous.

  Unshaken and concerned.

  He looked at his reflection in the mirror.

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  This was something big.

  And he was already in the middle of it.

  ——————————————

  Earlier that day, something small but important happened in the locker room.

  "Thanks for the warning, little lion!" Tarun spoke, but didn't look back and waved a heartfelt goodbye in a tensed room.

  "You'll not be able to handle them alone."

  Rishabh's voice rang out.

  Tarun stopped.

  Tarun gulped.

  He knew— he couldn't handle more than 200 students alone.

  But if it happened…he had to do it.

  "You'll not be alone." Rishabh read him like a book, "Catch this!"

  He tossed the earpiece in the air and Tarun caught it cleanly, without even turning back.

  "I don't know tech. All I know is throwing hands."

  "Then do it. I'll do all the thinking."

  Rishabh smirked.

  Tarun smiled back.

  A faint one, but genuine.

  And he finally walked away.

  ——————————————

  In the present, blood dripped from Tarun's knuckles.

  His chest heaved like he was breathing on borrowed life.

  Another one of the Eternal Order jumped— but Tarun pulled him by his collar, knocking him out cold with a headbutt.

  "You're slowing down. No doubt."

  Rishabh said through the earpiece. Cool voice.

  "How'd you know? Don't tell me… you've got cameras on me!"

  "I have a brain, Tarun."

  Rishabh's hands trembled as he held the earpiece.

  Not from fear— he'd predicted this.

  But he never thought people would bleed under his plans.

  "Just… shut up and guide me!"

  Tarun shouted, as he ducked a punch and drove a knee into one's jaw.

  But his hits were slower. Even he could feel it.

  In one swift motion, Rishabh grabbed a worn-out notebook from his bag.

  Names. Strengths. Weaknesses.

  He had everything about the Eternal Order.

  "Bandaged nose— punches like steel. But I saw Vijay punching his gut for slipping up."

  Tarun's punches were taking time to throw now.

  He didn't know how much he could do.

  But Rishabh's voice was enough for him.

  As that man approached Tarun— Tarun slid down and landed a gut-wrenching elbow, defeating the man as he collapsed.

  More of them began moving at once.

  But—

  "Stand down."

  The Eternal Order froze like puppets and began to retreat from the fight.

  Not to run away.

  But to form a path.

  Tarun blinked in surprise.

  "What the hell—"

  Black boots tapped against the path.

  Someone was coming.

  His posture was straightened.

  His hands were in his pocket.

  "He's here…"

  Rishabh's voice cracked. He knew— the real fight was about to begin.

  The man was now face to face with Tarun.

  Their eyes locked.

  Vijay Chauhan.

  ——————————————

  A private shooting range. Outskirts of Delhi.

  The sky bled orange and hot wind stirred the dust on the ground.

  Vijay stood there— jaw clenched and hands trembling in fear.

  He was eight years old.

  That night of 2016 would be his last in India, for a long, long time.

  But young Vijay didn't want it.

  In front of him stood Vikrant Chauhan, with a gun in hand, unreadable expressions.

  "Dad, I don't want to go—" Vijay whispered.

  But Vikrant handed him tickets for the flight.

  First class. A flight to Siberia.

  "I want to live my dreams. Just look at this."

  Vijay brought out a big canvas and held it with pride. It was a stunning painting.

  A painting of his dead mother.

  He held it like he used to hold his mother's hand.

  Vijay's dream was to be a painter.

  Vikrant didn't shift his gaze.

  He just shot his gun and a bullet pierced the painting— right at the mother's forehead, inches away from Vijay's face.

  This sent chills through Vijay's spine.

  He lost his grip on the painting.

  It dropped down— like his mother had left the world all over again.

  "Kabir Mahajan is in Siberia now. He'll make you a man. You have to be my heir."

  Tears threatened to fall from Vijay's eyes.

  But he didn't let it out— because the punishment for the weak was worse than bullets.

  Vijay nodded.

  Not out of agreement but out of helplessness.

  The young kid wanted his mother back more than before. But death couldn't be undone.

  From that day forward, Vijay Chauhan disappeared from India— for three painful years.

  ——————————————

  The air held its breath.

  Vijay was now face-to-face with Tarun.

  Untouchable. Confident.

  Tarun's shirt was torn at the collar.

  He could barely stand upright.

  But his childish grin? Still intact.

  Vijay tilted his head to look at the fallen bodies.

  "I sent them to test you. You passed."

  He plucked a handkerchief from one of the Eternal Order's boys like it belonged to him.

  He extended his hand to Tarun.

  "I'll not take this. What if your snot is on this?"

  This made Vijay smile just faintly.

  "You've worked hard. Use this."

  His voice was like a businessman.

  Tarun reluctantly accepted the handkerchief— wiping blood off his cheeks carefully, still looking for signs of snot.

  The earpiece crackled. Rishabh whispered.

  "Is Manav anywhere to be seen?"

  Tarun took a quick look around but found nothing, just like Rishabh thought.

  "No. Not even behind those big Vijay muscles."

  Rishabh had to be on the move.

  He instantly grabbed his asthma inhaler, took one sharp breath and began taking soft steps out of the washroom— to the Principal cabin.

  But someone… was watching him.

  On the streets, Vijay interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

  "I have an offer. For you. For us."

  "Am I getting a ticket to the amusement park?!"

  Tarun's eyes widened with happiness, like a kid.

  "I want you to join me. As an equal." Vijay said.

  Tarun's grin vanished. Just like that.

  He threw Vijay's handkerchief on the floor, crushing it with his foot.

  "Making me your equal? Stop insulting my standards already."

  "This is your last offer. We can change everything together."

  "Free trial done? The last guy who said this scammed me for ?1,000."

  Vijay knew that the talk was now over.

  His muscles tightened, pushing on his shirt.

  He stood like a brick wall, already in his stance.

  "I offered you respect."

  "You should've offered me cookies instead."

  Both of them charged up their blows.

  And just when their fists were about to meet—

  A voice cut through the battlefield.

  Cold and intimidating— but familiar.

  "That's enough."

  Both of them turned.

  And the first thing they saw were the blue eyes.

  The eyes of Yug Verma.

  His body was slightly bruised, but he didn't flinch. Nor did his voice shiver.

  The crowd went quiet at first.

  It was as if the wind had also waited for this.

  Yug began walking with a resolve in his mind.

  His eyes gleamed like they've seen hell.

  "Vijay is my prey."

  Vijay giggled, hearing this from the mouth of the weakest, bullied kid in Silver Oak Academy.

  But Tarun rushed towards Yug, and held him by his collar with a tight grip.

  "You've got to be kidding me. You're not ready!"

  But Yug's eyes were stuck to Vijay.

  Tarun's concern didn't reach his ears.

  "Handle the others. Don't intervene in my fight."

  He didn't push Tarun away.

  Tarun did it himself.

  Yug was not delusional or reckless.

  His voice was full of conviction.

  For a second, Tarun remembered the bloody, bruised Yug who couldn't dare to take a stand.

  But now?

  He was like a storm ready to strike.

  The real question was:

  "Is this storm really strong enough?"

  This loomed in Tarun's mind over and over.

  Yug walked straight to Vijay. Eyes meeting.

  "Look who's here. The fool wants to die."

  The Eternal Order laughed like maniacs.

  Yug didn't blink. The silence was louder than all of the mockery.

  "I've been waiting so long. I can't miss."

  He thought to himself.

  Tarun backed him up— ready to take down the remaining members of Eternal Order.

  "You better not die, blue eyes." Tarun muttered, still worried.

  "Bet." Yug replied.

  Just like an exchange between warriors.

  This fight would determine the fates— of the school, and of Yug Verma.

  Then started the showdown that could change every single thing.

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