The echo of boots on the polished marble floor of the Central Intelligence HQ seemed louder than usual as Kiaan Verma, bandaged but defiant, stepped through the glass doors with Dev Malik, Rehaan Sethi, and Tara Iyer flanking him like shadows. The silence was different today—heavy, almost warning. Officers at their desks lifted their heads briefly, then quickly looked away. Something was off.
As they entered the main conference room, the air was already thick with unspoken tension. Behind the long glass table stood Director Arvind Bansal—stoic, hard-eyed—and beside him, Joint Director Raghav Kapoor, his jaw clenched, arms crossed, tapping his fingers against a folder labeled CLASSIFIED.
> "You finally decided to show up?" Arvind snapped, slamming the file down.
"Director," Kiaan said, calm but alert, "I came straight after discharge. We didn't want to waste—"
"This isn't about punctuality!" Raghav interjected sharply. "It's about the damn storm you triggered, Verma!"
The room stilled. Kiaan raised his chin slightly. Tara, Rehaan, and Dev exchanged wary glances.
> "You stormed into Red Vortex Enterprises, sealed an international property, caught Rudhra Khaali and that bastard Viper—yes, we saw your report. But did you even bother to check who owns the damn mall?" Arvind's voice was low, almost a growl.
"We tried tracing," Kiaan said. "Paper ownership leads to shell companies. I assumed—"
"You assumed," Raghav snapped. "And now the higher-ups are breathing down our necks! International pressure, economic influence, internal orders—this mall isn't just a mall. You've stirred the wrong nest, Kiaan."
> "So what do you want me to do?" Kiaan asked, voice sharp, eyes dark. "Ignore the drugs? The illegal weapons? The blood that stains that building's floor?"
"We're saying—drop the case."
"Excuse me?" Kiaan blinked.
"You heard him," Arvind said, stepping forward. "Hand over every piece of intel—files, evidence, drives. You're officially being told to stand down. Whatever you did with Rudhra and Viper, that's your business. But this mall case dies here. Now."
Dev stepped forward. "But sir, we found massive—"
> "Irrelevant!" Raghav barked. "None of that matters if the courts won't even allow the evidence to be filed. You think the man behind this will let his empire be crushed by a few field agents?"
"So what now?" Tara asked, disbelieving. "We let him walk?"
Kiaan clenched his jaw. His voice was low but lethal.
> "You're telling me to stop chasing the truth… because it's inconvenient for the system?"
"I'm telling you," Arvind said slowly, "to stay alive. That mall belongs to a man we can't touch right now. Not without preparation. I'm arranging a meeting. When the time is right, we'll hit back. But not now. Not recklessly. And not while you're still bleeding."
> "And if I refuse?" Kiaan challenged, standing taller.
"Then I'll suspend you and shut the whole team down." Raghav's voice was cold. "This is not a debate, Officer Verma. It's an order. Stay down. Rebuild. Observe. And when we're ready—I'll hand you the firepower to burn him down. Until then… give me everything. Now."
The room fell silent. Kiaan stared at them both, then at his team. His fingers twitched—but he nodded. Slowly. Reluctantly.
> "Fine," he said. "I'll step back… but not down."
As they turned to leave, Arvind's voice echoed one last time.
> "Good. Because the war hasn't begun yet. And that man…" —he looked Kiaan dead in the eyes— "isn't just rich or dangerous. He's Rex Malhotra. And if you want to take down the devil—you better learn how to walk through hell first."
Kiaan's eyes darkened. A slow smirk curled his lips.
> "Then tell hell to get ready…"
And the doors shut behind him.