The night in Delhi was unusually still. Mukul stood on the balcony of the Sharma house, looking out at the city lights that usually comforted him. Tonight, though, they felt distant, like stars too far away to guide anyone. A strange heaviness pressed against his chest, and though nothing visible moved, he knew something had shifted.
Inside, Kavya was quietly reading reports, her brow furrowed. Aaradhya and Raghav were playing a light-hearted game of chess at the dining table, but even their laughter seemed thin and forced. The air carried a tension no one wanted to name.
Mukul finally spoke, his voice steady but edged. "Do you feel it too?"
Kavya looked up immediately. "Yes. It's like… the silence before a storm."
Aaradhya's hand hesitated over her chess piece. "I thought it was just me. The last few days, it feels as if someone's eyes are on us. Watching. Waiting."
Raghav tried to brush it off with a half-smile. "Or maybe we're just tired and imagining things. Shadows play tricks on the mind."
But Mukul shook his head. "No. This isn't imagination. The patterns have changed. The Puppeteer lost ground recently, but instead of striking back, he's gone quiet. Too quiet. And when predators are silent, it's never for nothing."
The room grew heavier at his words. Kavya closed the file in front of her, her gaze sharp. "Then he's planning something."
"Not just planning," Mukul said, eyes narrowing as he searched the horizon. "He's waiting to release something. Something darker."
For a moment, no one spoke. The ticking of the clock was the only sound. Aaradhya finally broke the silence, her voice softer than usual. "Do you think… It's already here?"
Mukul didn't answer right away. He turned, scanning each of them, his mind racing through the possibilities. He didn't want to admit it, but he could almost feel the pressure closing in, like invisible fingers tightening around their circle.
"Maybe not here," he said carefully. "But close. Close enough that the air itself feels wrong."
Kavya leaned back, exhaling. "So what do we do? Do we hunt this threat first, or let it come to us?"
Mukul's jaw tightened. He wanted to move, to strike before the Puppeteer's trap could spring. But he also knew charging blindly could be exactly what the enemy wanted.
"We hold position," he decided finally. "Strengthen defences, keep eyes open, and test the air for where the cracks appear. If this is a new piece he's placed on the board, it will move soon. When it does, we'll be ready."
Aaradhya looked unconvinced. "And if it's already moving?"
Mukul gave her a thin smile, though his eyes betrayed no comfort. "Then we listen for the first scream in the dark—and trace it back to its source."
The room fell into silence again, but this time it wasn't uneasy—it was alert, every sense sharpened. Somewhere out there, they all knew, the Puppeteer's hand had already shifted.
And whatever piece he had set loose was coming closer with every breath.