The dawn's fiery edge crept over Ahmedabad, painting the banyan tree's gnarled roots in hues of gold and shadow as Jai Vora, Amir, and Dhruv crouched near the trapdoor outside Arjun Mala's estate. Their satchels bulged with looted documents, jewelry, and coins—spoils of Mala's fall—while the estate's torchlit towers stood eerily silent, unaware of their master's death. Maya and Nishil, the veteran assassin, stood before Jai, their faces taut with urgency. From the merchant's rooftop, Ravi, Manoj, Sarita, and Sameer signaled with match fires, their binoculars scanning for the patrolling guards. Kofi waited at the far wall, his bomb ready to shatter the morning. The Emperor System, buzzed: "Time's a blade, Jai. Get those kids out, or that bomb'll bury you all."
Jai's voice was a low command, his Wisdom sharp. "Nishil, Maya, we're short on time. Go back, grab the children—and anyone you trust. I'm signaling Kofi now. The bomb'll hit the far wall, and we'll slip out in the chaos." He glanced at Maya, her daggers glinting with her Agility. "Mira's waiting. Move fast." Maya nodded. "I trust Nishil. He'll know who's safe." Nishil's eyes, weathered but keen, met Jai's. "Eight children, including Mira. I've got another three boys around her age, good hearts, trained but not broken. I vouch for them.". "Do it. Hurry."
Maya and Nishil vanished into the trapdoor's darkness, their Stealth cloaking their steps in the basement warren's maze of tunnels and cells. Jai struck a friction match—his ingenuity glowing bright—and waved it high, signaling the rooftop team. "Bomb's going any minute," he whispered to Amir and Dhruv. "Nishil, any other exits from the warren? We can't risk pursuit." Nishil, emerging with Maya and a cluster of figures, answered, "One emergency exit, leading straight into the mansion. It's for Mala to enter the warren—locked from the inside, not the basement. Guards won't open it during a blast; they'll swarm the explosion."
Jai's lips curved, a strategist's smile. "Perfect. Lock this trapdoor from outside. We move slow, blend with the chaos." Eight children—scrawny, wide-eyed, ages 6 to 10, Mira among them—huddled close, their assassin training no match for their fear. Three boys, lanky 17-year-olds with blades at their hips, stood protectively. Nishil's voice was firm. "These boys—Arjun, Rahil, Sanjay—are loyal to me, not Mala. The rest down there? Clueless about his death, for now."
"Lock it," Jai ordered. Dhruv secured the trapdoor with a heavy iron bolt, its clang muffled by the banyan's roots. Maya knelt beside Mira, a girl of 8 with eyes mirroring her sister's fire. "You're safe now," Maya whispered, her voice cracking. Mira clung to her, trembling. "Is it true? No more missions?" Maya glanced at Jai, gratitude in her gaze. "Jai's keeping his promise."
Nishil addressed the group, his voice a steady anchor. "Listen, children. This boy—Jai Vora—killed Mala. He's taking you to a new life. No blades, no blood. Trust him, "the children, nodded slowly. "Better than this cage." The children murmured, hope flickering in their eyes.
Get ready." Nishil scooped up two children, Amir grabbed two, Dhruv one, and the three boys carried the rest, their assassin training barely matching the adults' speed. Jai, an exception with his uncanny agility, led the way.
BOOM! A thunderous blast tore through the far wall, flames licking the dawn sky as debris rained. Shouts erupted from the estate, guards swarming toward the explosion, their torches bobbing like fireflies. "Now!" Jai hissed. The group slipped into the commotion, black-clad forms weaving through shadows. Kofi, circling back, joined Ravi's team on the rooftop, his match fire signaling success. The trapdoor's lock held, and the mansion's emergency exit stayed shut, guards too distracted to notice.
Maya clutched Mira's hand, her voice fierce. "We're free, Mira. Jai's different." Nishil, carrying a child, glanced at Jai. "Keep moving," he said.