He dropped his gaze and started walking, hands slipping into his pockets. "Let's head back to the hotel."
Aryan fell into step beside him without a word, his expression unreadable, though his mind raced with questions he dared not voice.
The city moved around them, oblivious to what had just taken place within the Bureau's walls. To everyone else, it was an ordinary afternoon. To Aryan, it felt like the world had just shifted, even if only slightly.
Back at the hotel they ate in silence, then split for the afternoon. Anand took his leave to the room the staff had set aside; Aryan retired to Room 3404 with questions he could not shake.
He sat on the edge of the bed and let the minutes run through his fingers. The last few hours looped in his head: the garden, the stories, the crystal that had trembled under a single touch. A man who claimed the founder's name. A man who had moved through the Bureau like a shadow and walked out labeled King.
He fished his communicator from the pocket of his coat and keyed the line. The call connected with the soft chirp that marked a private channel. A familiar voice answered.
"Is everything ok?" the family head asked.
Aryan exhaled slowly, steadying himself before he spoke. "yes sir. " He accounted every moment that happened from the garden to the Bureau.
"So he need some time alone"
There was a pause. Then, "Hmmm… guide him to the back mountain tomorrow."
Aryan blinked. "Isn't that place exclusive—reserved for the younger children of the family for practical training?"
"It's not for you to worry about," the head cut in, voice hard and final. "Do what you are told. Take care of him, with your best."
"Yes, Family Head." The line went dead.
He sat a moment longer, the weight of the silence pressing at the edges of his thoughts.
_______________________
Outside the Saffron Spire, a large armored van eased to a stop. The sliding door opened and a handful of men climbed out, stretching and muttering as they adjusted gear. Inside, the vehicle was crowded: the air smelled of leather, gun oil, and too-strong coffee. They were professionals who joked like kids when idle and moved like wolves when work began.
"So he's here — the one we're to protect for the next two months?" a thin man asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Room 3402," the captain answered, voice low and precise. "Target is a young man. Under no circumstances do we let him get hurt."
The mood in the van shifted. Jokes died on the spot; faces set. The captain's tone went harder. "If he suffers a major injury because of our negligence, our heads will roll. For the next two months, we eliminate everything that may cause him harm. Word from the Patils is clear: they will cover any consequences. You can go as far as required."
"Aye aye, captain," came the chorus, a mix of professional resignation and the faint thrill that came from absolute authority.
_______________
Nearby, in the study, Veer Patil tapped his communicator with a methodical hand. He had a single question he wanted answered.
"How is the situation at the back mountain?" he asked.
"Everything is secure, sir," the voice on the other end replied. "Lady Raniya's son will enter the mountain in ten days."
"Seal the mountain until further notice," Veer ordered.
"B ...but sir"
"Tell them I did that. Do not allow anyone entry without my permission. If anyone attempts to enter, contact me immediately. I repeat: do not let anyone in until I say."he told
"Yes, sir." The connection snapped.
Veer set down the device and watched, eyes narrow, fingers steepled. He thought of the man who had arrived — of the quiet way he had taken the Bureau's test and the hush that had followed. A faint, almost amused smile crossed his face.
"Let's see what you will show us after you come out from there," he murmured to the empty room, the words far more a promise than a question.