The ruins of the old world whispered secrets through broken windows and cracked asphalt as night fell over the outskirts of Delhi. In the pale half-moon light, a quiet motel stood on the edge of Sector Delta-9 — rusted gates, boarded-up doors, and faint voices echoing behind reinforced walls.
This was Mallick's last known location.
Once a petty arms dealer under Suraj's expanding syndicate, Mallick had gone dark weeks ago. Now, he was suspected of being the very man who leaked armor-piercing rounds to the Fireflies—the same bullets that had torn through Kartik's vest and ended his life.
And tonight, Ayush and Leon were coming for answers.
They moved like shadows across decaying rooftops, clad in ash-grey tactical gear, weapons suppressed, minds sharpened by grief and rage. The plan: breach silently, extract Mallick, and bring him to Suraj's outpost for direct interrogation.
But plans didn't matter anymore.
Not in this world.
Behind them, the wind carried an echo that lived only in memory.
"I'm not scared anymore."
Kartik's last words.
Ayush's jaw tightened.
There would be no mistakes tonight.
No forgiveness.
Abandoned Convenience Store – 1.3 km from Motel
Surrounded by collapsed shelves and dust-coated tins, Ayush laid out a folded hand-drawn map while Leon checked the suppressor on his pistol.
"Two guards at the front," Leon murmured, eyes scanning binoculars. "One on the tower. Probably another couple patrolling the back."
"Mallick's room?"
"Top floor. Last window. Southwest corner. One light on."
Ayush studied the layout. "We go in from the rear ladder. Quiet entry. No gunfire unless absolutely necessary."
Leon let out a bitter breath. "Ghosts again, huh?"
Ayush said nothing.
"We stopped being ghosts the moment Kartik bled out in my arms."
The silence that followed said enough.
They moved.
Motel Perimeter – 9:38 PM
The air was still—unnaturally so. Ayush and Leon crept behind the cracked concrete wall, weaving through blind spots between the moving torchlights.
Leon paused beside a rusted drainpipe and pointed upward — the maintenance ladder.
Ayush nodded.
They climbed.
Grime coated their gloves. Rust cracked beneath their boots. At the top, Ayush peeked through Mallick's window.
One light buzzed above a cot. A weapons crate in the corner. A flickering radio on the floor. No movement.
Leon counted down with his fingers: 3... 2...
Ayush smashed the window.
They rolled in — weapons raised.
And froze.
Mallick was already dead.
He lay sprawled on the floor, blood crusted beneath his head. His mouth hung open, as if death had interrupted a final confession.
A clean bullet hole through the forehead.
Leon checked the room quickly. Ayush's eyes fell to the photograph resting beside Mallick's outstretched hand.
He picked it up.
Two young men — Mallick and another — stood laughing in front of a grocery store. Their arms slung over each other's shoulders. Pre-outbreak. Ordinary smiles in an unrecognizable world.
But the second man wasn't just anyone.
It was Joseph — the Fireflies' elusive leader.
"They weren't just allies," Ayush murmured. "They were family."
Leon crouched beside Mallick's body, eyes narrowing. "And Joseph kept him hidden all this time. Protected."
"Until someone found out," Ayush said.
Leon stood. "Someone silenced him before we could."
Ayush moved to the corner and peeled the tarp off a marked crate.
"Property of CGS – Delta Arsenal"
Inside: three rows of ammunition magazines. Stamped clearly with A.P. – Anti-Personal / Penetrator Grade.
Ayush's chest tightened.
"These are the same rounds…"
Leon was already unpacking the vest from his bag. He laid it beside Kartik's bloodied one and peeled open the damaged plating.
"Same ceramic armor. Same make. I wore this exact model."
His fingers trembled.
"Kartik didn't stand a chance."
He pointed at the cracked ceramic plate — the bullet had gone clean through.
"These aren't street-level black market. Not anymore."
Ayush nodded grimly. "Post-outbreak, AP rounds were discontinued. Too expensive. Too dangerous."
"Only CGS had the tech to make small batches," Leon added. "Roughly 190 crates... nationally."
Ayush's voice lowered.
"Unless someone inside CGS is leaking them."
Leon froze.
Ayush said it.
"Suraj."
Leon looked up sharply. "No. His people hate the Fireflies. He's lost dozens to their ambushes."
"What if he didn't know?" Ayush said. "What if someone in his network made a side deal? Sold a crate without knowing the destination? Or… what if he's playing both sides?"
Leon didn't answer.
But his silence said enough.
10:10 PM – Inside Mallick's Room
The doorknob creaked.
Ayush raised his pistol.
A guard stepped in, glancing at his wrist-slate.
"Sir, HQ was asking about the 8:30 check-in—"
He froze.
Eyes locked with Ayush.
Leon fired twice — one to the chest, one to the head.
The man crumpled.
Leon dragged the body in and shut the door.
Outside — voices shouted.
Then an alarm wailed.
"Shit. We're burned."
Ayush sprinted to the window. Red torchlight swept the courtyard.
"We fight out."
10:14 PM – The Escape
They moved like lightning.
Ayush shot out the hallway lights as they ran. Leon lobbed two smoke grenades down the corridor.
Chaos exploded behind them.
Shouts.
Bullets.
Slamming doors.
Three guards appeared at the stairwell — Leon dropped two with precise bursts. Ayush whipped a knife into the third's throat.
The man collapsed without a sound.
Downstairs — more footsteps.
The ground floor exit loomed ahead.
Two guards waited.
One raised a flare gun—
Ayush shot it mid-air.
It never lit.
But the silence broke.
Gunfire cracked from the rooftops. Ayush dove behind a rusted car. Leon tossed a flashbang into the alley.
"Hard right!" he barked.
They sprinted. Over burning trash heaps. Through narrow lanes lined with shattered neon.
Blood in their ears. Steel in their lungs.
Finally —
They reached the safehouse.
11:10 PM – Suraj's Underground HQ
The crate hit the floor with a thud.
Leon didn't wait.
"You want to explain this?"
Suraj looked down — then at Ayush.
His gaze darkened.
"Where did you find that?"
Ayush tossed the photo onto the table. "Mallick and Joseph. Brothers."
Suraj's jaw clenched.
"He's dead?"
Leon nodded coldly. "One shot. Between the eyes."
He pointed at the vest.
"Same armor. Same round. I wore this. Kartik died in it."
"You think I ordered that hit?" Suraj snapped.
Leon didn't back down. "You run Delhi's underworld. Nothing happens without your fingerprints."
Suraj stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
"I'm building something bigger than any of you understand. You think I'd sell out to the Fireflies and burn it all down?"
Ayush cut in. "Then tell us who did."
Suraj paused.
Then — he looked at the photograph.
His thumb brushed over Joseph's face.
"I don't know who gave the order. But now I have a name."
"Joseph."
Leon's voice was quiet. "It's not over."
Suraj met his eyes. "It never is."
Ayush stepped back. His mind was already turning.
Kartik was gone.
Mallick was dead.
And Joseph was real.
But trust?
That was running on fumes.
And something about the way Suraj avoided the full truth...
Made the air feel like smoke before the fire.
[END OF EPISODE 21]