In the somber quiet of the Hunters' Cemetery, where mist clung to weathered tombstones like forgotten regrets, Ranjeet Varma's impassioned plea pierced Robin Seth's lingering doubts. The old leader's voice, hoarse from years of command, echoed off the graves. "Lead us, Robin, for your daughter Tara and our legacy," he urged, eyes fierce despite his frailty. Driven by Tara's innocent smile—his unbreakable anchor—and the urgent need to restore the Hunters' faded glory, Robin nodded, accepting the deputy leader role. Resolve ignited in his chest like a Kalaripayattu flame, burning away hesitation.
Ranjeet extended the Hunters' Order, a ceremonial badge of darkened silver etched with guardian symbols. Robin grasped it, the weight heavy with authority over the Northern Command. "I'll lead and protect," he vowed, pinning it to his chest. The act embraced a destiny to command the nation's defense, the badge settling like invisible armor, binding him to the Hunters' sacred cause amid the silent watchers of the dead.
Ranjeet's eyes gleamed with hard-won trust. "The Hunters grant you freedom," he said firmly. "Act decisively—neutralize threats first, report later." This operational autonomy, rooted in their mission to shield the innocent from global shadows, emboldened Robin. His Kalaripayattu-honed instincts, forged in underworld battles, sharpened for true leadership, ready to strike without restraint.
Inspired by Ranjeet's lifelong faith and honor, Robin's voice rang firm across the graves. "I'll make the Hunters great again," he swore, ambition surging. The promise to revive the organization—now dwindled to five hundred from ten thousand—burned as a personal crusade and collective duty, honoring the fallen etched in stone around them.
Ranjeet's tone softened, gaze distant. "Your father, Rakesh Seth, likely fled to shield you from the Vyas clan's wrath," he revealed heavily. "His impure bloodline would be a capital offense." The words recast Rakesh's abandonment, stirring a storm of anger, betrayal, and reluctant understanding in Robin's heart—perhaps sacrifice, not cowardice.
Ranjeet's voice darkened, shadows deepening. "If the Vyas clan finds Rakesh, he'll face brutal torture in their stronghold—a hidden fortress of chains and screams," he warned. The vivid threat of their secretive prison intensified Robin's resolve, a flicker of vengeance sparking like embers in his veins.
Determined to forge unbreakable strength, Robin set his sights on surpassing the Vyas clan's legendary power. "I'll protect my family and confront Rakesh's fate," he declared, suppressing hatred for strategic calm. Outmatching the clan became his shield for Sarita's fragile health, Meena's quiet loyalty, and Tara's bright future—no harm would breach it.
Ranjeet nodded, granting access to the Northern Border Command. "These elite soldiers—fifty masters of stealth and combat—will aid your mission to unify Hyderabad's underworld," he said, solidifying Robin's leadership. The daunting task against the Iron Syndicate's brute force, Black Lotus Crew's cunning, and Anna Brotherhood's ambition loomed as his ultimate proving ground, a chaotic forge for his new authority.
Meera Varma, Ranjeet's granddaughter—a sharp-eyed warrior with unyielding poise—stared in shock as Robin donned the Hunters' Crest, crimson silk flowing with golden dragon-tiger embroidery, marking his deputy ascension. "Why him, Grandfather?" she demanded, fists clenched, unaware of Robin's Vyas lineage and vast potential. Her skepticism clashed sharply with Ranjeet's unwavering trust, tension crackling in the misty air.
Robin, noting Ranjeet's frail demeanor—the subtle coughs, trembling hands—stepped forward purposefully. "I can treat your illness," he offered, channeling Kalaripayattu acupressure skills, precise as a master's strike on meridians. Meera scoffed sharply. "You're no match for renowned doctors from Delhi or abroad," she dismissed, protective fire in her eyes. Robin's gaze remained steady, unflinching—a quiet storm of determination. The Hunters' destiny was now his to shape, undeterred by doubt or ancient shadows.