The battlefield was eerily silent. The echoes of collapsing shadows had faded, leaving only the soft hiss of sparks and the distant groan of the station's structure. Mukul's team huddled together, bloodied and exhausted, each inhaling the fragile relief that came with survival.
Priya leaned weakly against Mukul, her silver aura now dim and flickering. Her hands shook, and her chest rose and fell unevenly, but she managed a small, tired smile. "Did… we really do it?"
Mukul tightened his grip on her arm, his eyes scanning each team member. "For now," he said, voice steady despite his own weariness. "We've pushed him back. But we can't let our guard down. Not for a second."
Ansh slumped onto the floor, breathing heavily. "He was… different. Stronger than anything we've faced before. I thought… I thought we were done for."
Kavya placed a hand on his shoulder. "We survived. That counts for something." Her voice was soft but carried an edge of determination. "And we'll survive the next one too."
Raghav leaned against a wall, bandaging a deep gash across his arm. He winced but didn't complain. "For now," he echoed, mirroring Mukul's words. His gaze drifted to Priya, concern etched deep. "But she—she shouldn't have had to do that alone."
Mukul crouched beside Priya, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "She didn't do it alone. We were all there. Every strike, every push—they all mattered. Don't forget that."
Despite their relief, a quiet tension lingered in the air, a reminder that even victory had its cost. Every movement was heavy, every breath measured. They had survived a nightmare, yet none could shake the feeling that the real storm was still out there, waiting.
No one noticed the faint shimmer at the edge of the station, a barely perceptible ripple in the shadows. The Puppeteer's presence, distant yet insidious, had already begun to stretch its influence. A dark silhouette moved with precision, unseen, preparing for the next strike.
Mukul's mind, even as he helped his team recover, raced with possibilities. "We need to regroup. Rest, heal, and plan. We can't fight blind again."
Priya nodded weakly, letting herself be guided to a safe corner. Her hands still trembled, but her eyes held a quiet determination. "I'll be ready… next time. I won't let us fall."
Ansh and Kavya exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the unspoken truth—they were stronger, yes, but vulnerable. And somewhere, the Puppeteer was already exploiting that vulnerability.
Raghav finally straightened, his jaw set. "We'll take this time. We recover. We prepare. And when he comes… We'll be ready."
But even as they spoke, the shadows outside whispered promises of chaos, and the flickering light of the station made shapes dance on the walls—shapes that weren't entirely their imagination.
The team was safe—for now. But the quiet carried the weight of warning, a tension that made every heartbeat feel heavier, every breath a countdown. They didn't yet know that the Puppeteer's new lieutenant had been dispatched, moving with deadly purpose toward their path.
And soon, the calm would shatter.