Episode 68 — Shadows That Refuse to Die
Malik knelt on cold concrete, blood darkening the gravel under his palm. Morning light spilled across the train yard, turning rusted tracks into lines of red and gold.
His breath rasped, shallow and wet. Yet even bleeding, even defeated, his gaze held a cruel, quiet certainty.
"You think this ends with my fall?" Malik rasped, voice breaking around pain. "You were always the sword, Raian. Never the hand."
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Raian stood above him, chest heaving. The pistol in his hand felt heavier than ever — not just from weight, but from everything it had meant: power, fear, survival.
Aria's hand gripped his sleeve, warm despite trembling. "Raian," she whispered, voice raw. "Don't."
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Malik's lips twisted into a bloodied smirk. "She thinks you're better than this," he sneered, eyes flicking to Aria. "You'll prove her wrong. You always do."
The words stabbed deeper than any blade.
Raian's finger trembled on the trigger, memories flashing like lightning: the men he had executed without thought, the fear in their eyes mirrored now in Malik's.
For years, Malik's voice had shaped his rage, forged it into something merciless.
But now, another voice rose louder — softer, braver.
Aria's voice.
"Love isn't about what we deserve. It's about what we choose."
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Raian's breath shuddered out, gun lowering an inch. "No," he rasped, voice cracking. "Not this time."
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Malik laughed — a hollow, broken sound. "Then you're still my failure," he spat. "Because mercy only kills slower."
Pain twisted across Raian's face, but his hand dropped further. "Maybe," he whispered, voice rough. "But she made me want to fail."
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Behind them, Saira approached, gun still raised. Her eyes stayed locked on Malik — once her mentor too, once the only voice she'd trusted.
"Raian," she growled, voice brittle, "move."
"No," Aria breathed, stepping closer. "We don't have to kill him. We—"
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Malik's hand moved — faster than breath, faster than guilt.
A hidden knife flashed from his sleeve, glinting wickedly in dawn light.
Raian spun, instinct and dread crashing together. His arm wrapped around Aria, dragging her back.
The blade hissed through empty air — slicing cloth, drawing a thin line of blood across Raian's ribs instead of her heart.
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Saira fired.
The crack echoed off rusted walls.
Malik jerked, eyes going wide — then empty.
His body sagged forward, knife clattering from limp fingers.
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For a heartbeat, the world stood still: dust motes caught in dawn light, blood dark against broken gravel.
Then Raian's legs gave way, knees hitting stone. Pain flooded back, sharp and hungry. His breath tore ragged from his chest.
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Aria fell beside him, hands frantic, voice shaking. "You're bleeding — gods, Raian, stay with me—"
"I'm here," he gasped, forcing a smile that trembled at the edges. "I'm here."
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Saira lowered her gun, breath ragged, shoulders shaking under the weight of what she'd done — and what it cost to do it.
For a long moment, none of them spoke. Rain began to fall, gentle and cold, washing dust and blood into the tracks.
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Raian's gaze locked on Malik's still body. "He was right about one thing," he rasped. "Mercy can kill… if it blinds you."
"And love can save you," Aria whispered back, tears slipping down her cheeks.
His hand, blood-warm, closed over hers. "If you hadn't come—"
"Then it would've ended with you gone," she choked. "And I'd rather face a hundred knives than lose you."
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Together, they rose — slow, unsteady, but unbroken.
Saira moved to their side, eyes still haunted. "We're not safe," she murmured. "Malik's men will hunt us when they learn."
Raian nodded, pain twisting his features. "Then we run," he rasped. "But this time… we run toward something, not from it."
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Aria caught his gaze, searching for the man she'd found behind the scars and shadows.
And there he was: tired, bleeding — but standing. Still himself.
She pressed her forehead to his, breath mingling in the cold morning air. "We'll find somewhere," she whispered. "Somewhere the past can't follow."
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Raian's voice cracked, softer than rain. "If it does… promise me you'll keep pulling me back."
"I already have," she breathed, closing her eyes. "And I will. Every time."
They turned to go — Malik's body behind them, shadows already claiming what dawn could not save.
Rusty tracks stretched ahead, leading away from blood and ruin. Toward something fragile, unknown — but theirs.
Step by step, they moved forward: bruised, haunted, but together.
And as dawn broke fully over Kolkata, hope walked beside them.
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Teaser for Episode 69:
The trio seeks refuge beyond city walls — but an unexpected betrayal reminds them that Malik wasn't the only enemy waiting in the dark.