The SUV sat armored and resolute beneath the minaret's glow. Arjun checked the rear turret once more, then turned to his small team:
Varun – Demolition Specialist & Tracker
Dhani – Elemental Channeler
Ravi – Sharpshooter
Meher – Heavy Ordinance Sniper
Tapan – Drone Guard
Suraj – Government Logistics Liaison (new addition)
Arjun Rathore – Team Leader
Seven souls. Four sanctuaries behind them. One path ahead—to Ayodhya.
As dawn broke, the engine roared. They rolled forward into collapsed Delhi suburb roads.
The SUV bounced over asphalt shards. Olived-green dust hung in the air. Arjun's voice came across the intercom.
"First waypoint: AG-12 checkpoint. Standard surveillance patrol—we pass quietly, no trouble unless provoked."
Ravi scanned rooftops. Tapan's drones hummed above. Varun hunched over a map, planning route through a nighttime patrol route.
Dhani dipped her hand outside. A micro-ripple of wind and humidity passed through her fingertips. Storm whispered nearby, but stayed distant.
Suraj opened trade manifests, recounting what civilian goods they'd bring: food packets, medicine, notebooks.
The checkpoint—once bustling—stood empty and silent. Broken gates marked with Ravager blood. Guards gone. But movement: armed raiders in blue-gray uniforms.
Ravi kept his rifle rested. Arjun whispered:
"Stealth."
Dhani leaned out, raising mist barrier to dampen engine murmurs. Tapan sent a silent drone to confirm. Meher aimed the turret camera. Varun readied a smoke micro-bomb.
As the raiders turned toward them, chaos broke:
Varun detonated smoke near the front to obscure.
Ravi fired a single suppressed shot: one raider down.
Meher opened a second turret fire: two raiders disabled, vehicle reinforced.
Tapan's drone dropped an EMP grenade—raider comms died.
Dhani's mist shielded the vehicle as they rolled through.
They cleared the checkpoint without fatalities—swift and professional.
Passing villages, they saw rebuilds—mud huts being strengthened, water pumps being installed. Survivors waved; the sanctuary signal blossoming across the network.
At dusk, they pulled off the road. Tents pitched along a field by a stream they'd recon. Sounds of Ayodhya's outskirts: distant temple bells, bustling traders, hopeful songs.
They cooked on a makeshift fire, shared stories—Varun teaching the child they'd rescued bits of humor again, Dhani collecting dew for her nightly rituals, Ravi fine-tuning rifle scopes by firelight.
Arjun listened to Suraj speak of his hometown—Uttar Pradesh culture, mango orchards, festivals of light and devotion.
Hope began to gather.
Morning came. The SUV rolled onto the highway to Ayodhya—Indian highways scarred but usable.
At the first signboard: "Ayodhya – 180 km."
Arjun's heart clenched once. Two months had passed since his family's disappearance. Every mile closer made his purpose feel real again.
He stayed inside while the world outside flickered past—ruined comms towers, abandoned roadside dhabas, sooty ghats on canal turns.
The team rotated roles: Dhani guarded his turn at the wheel, Tapan monitored drones, Ravi stood at the turret hatch on alert, Meher scanned distant routes, Varun updated route markers, Suraj coordinated local communications.
There was no chatter. Just hum of engine, the smell of sweat, oil, and dust—their sacred odyssey toward a promise.
By dusk of Day 24, they spotted them: flags along approach to Ayodhya—orange-blue-green, each marked with the four-node symbol. A satchel-dropped beacon and small group of guards awaiting them.
Arjun parked. The team dismounted.
The sentinel stepped forward:
"Welcome, Sanctuary Pathfinders. The road ahead is secure. Welcome to the first staging node of Ayodhya."
A distant bell rang. Dhani paused. Varun smiled at Suraj.
Arjun breathed in dust-choked air—salty, hopeful.
As night descended, they ate rations with newfound conviction.
The first stage was under control. But soon… the past and future would clash in pilgrim city's flame-lit sanctuaries.