The silence in the room felt heavier than any battle Mukul had fought. Shalini's seat at the long table was empty, and that emptiness screamed louder than words.
Aarav clenched his fists, his jaw tight. "How did this happen? She was careful, smarter than all of us when it came to avoiding traps. How did they get to her?"
No one answered right away. Even Veer, usually the first to snap back with a plan or a sharp line, kept his head down. His eyes lingered on the seat, as though he still half expected Shalini to walk in with her usual calm smile.
Mukul finally spoke, his voice low but steady. "It wasn't a mistake. This wasn't random. The enemy knew her value… and they knew when to strike."
The weight of suspicion thickened the air. Kavya shifted uneasily, looking around the table. "You're saying someone leaked her movements?"
"I'm saying," Mukul replied, meeting her gaze, "the Puppeteer isn't just moving in shadows. He's watching us—too closely. And he has someone feeding him more than guesses."
A murmur rippled through the group. Distrust was a dangerous poison, but grief had already cracked their defences, and suspicion seeped in quickly.
Arjun slammed his palm against the table. "Enough. Shalini deserves more than us tearing each other apart. We need answers, not accusations."
"And how do we get those answers?" Veer snapped back, his grief showing as anger. "If there is a traitor, we can't exactly ask them to confess. What if the next strike is already planned? What if it's one of us next?"
His words hung in the air like a curse. For a heartbeat, no one dared speak.
Mukul stood slowly, forcing the others to look at him. "That's exactly what the Puppeteer wants. Doubt. Division. If we turn on each other, we're already defeated."
He let the silence settle before continuing. "We honour Shalini by staying sharper than ever. We lock down our movements, double-check every plan, and we keep each other alive. If the Puppeteer thinks fear will scatter us, he's mistaken."
Kavya leaned forward, her voice softer. "But Mukul… what if he's already chosen his next target?"
Everyone went still at that. The thought was too real, too close.
Mukul's gaze darkened. He didn't admit it out loud, but he felt it too—that chilling sense of eyes on them, of invisible strings being pulled. The Puppeteer had struck once, and he would strike again. That was certain.
He pressed his palms flat against the table. "Then we won't wait. We hunt him. We hunt the Warden. We force them to show their hand before another spark goes out."
The group exchanged uneasy looks, but Mukul's determination cut through the fog of grief. For the first time since Shalini's death, there was a glimmer of direction.
Still, as the meeting broke up, each member carried the same unspoken fear: Who would be next?
And in the unseen distance, the Puppeteer's laughter lingered, unheard by them but chillingly present all the same.