The next morning, Delhi felt too bright.The city never cared what happened last night — buses still honked, vendors still yelled, and people still scrolled through phones pretending their world was normal.
Aryan tried to do the same.
He put on his uniform, packed his bag, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.The bruise near his neck was faint, but his eyes… they looked the same as they had back in Syria.Tired. Aware.Like someone who'd seen too much to be young anymore.
He zipped up his hoodie and left.
1. School Morning
Inside the school gate, the same rhythm played — laughter, gossip, the clack of shoes on the corridor tiles.But Aryan could feel it — the shift.
People weren't scared of him anymore.They were curious.They whispered his name like a story.
"That's the Ghost.""He fought five guys, didn't even get hit.""I heard he's ex-army or something."
Aditya walked beside him, chewing gum, eyes darting nervously at everyone."Bro, you're like a celebrity now. Even seniors talk about you."
Aryan smirked. "That's not a good thing."
"Yeah, but…" Aditya shrugged. "In this school, power is everything. You beat Raghav, now everyone either fears you or wants you."
Aryan didn't reply.He didn't want either.
2. The Eyes
During math class, Aryan felt it again — that subtle pressure, like someone's gaze on the back of his neck.He turned slightly. Kabir was watching him again, not even pretending to hide it this time.
When the bell rang, Kabir spoke as they stood.
"Raghav's boys are quiet now. Impressive."
Aryan glanced at him. "You enjoy watching, don't you?"
Kabir smiled faintly. "Observation teaches more than action."
Aryan tilted his head. "Then what did you learn?"
"That you're not just a fighter. You're trained. You fight like someone who's done it for real. Someone who's survived."
Aryan's jaw clenched. "You think too much."
Kabir leaned closer. "Maybe. But so do you."
He walked away before Aryan could answer.
3. The Locker Again
Lunch break.Aryan opened his locker slowly, half-expecting another message.
Nothing.Just books, notes, and a small folded paper under his timetable.
He unfolded it.This one wasn't typed — it was handwritten.
"They're coming for the Ghost. Be ready. – J."
Aryan's breath slowed.The same handwriting as before.Same pen, same curve in the letters.
He looked around. The corridor was full of normal noise — sneakers, laughter, phones buzzing.But somewhere in that crowd, someone knew exactly who he was.
4. Aditya's Loyalty
At lunch, Aditya noticed Aryan's quiet mood. "You good?"
Aryan nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."
Aditya frowned. "You've been… different lately. If something's wrong, you can tell me."
Aryan looked at him — really looked at him.Aditya wasn't strong, not a fighter, not street-smart like Kabir or the gang kids.But he was loyal. Simple, honest, and stubbornly good.
Aryan forced a small smile. "You'll know when you need to."
Aditya sighed. "You're like a walking riddle, bro."
Aryan chuckled softly. "Better that way."
5. Afternoon — The New Threat
After class, a message popped up on the school WhatsApp group:
"Circuit boys spotted near Sector-18 gate. Carrying baseball bats."
Half the class laughed — "Fake news," "Probably seniors messing around."But Aryan froze.
Circuit.The word that changed everything.
He stood up quietly, slinging his bag.Outside, he could already hear the faint echo of shouting near the back wall.
He walked through the corridor, phone buzzing in his pocket — Aditya calling. He didn't answer.
By the time he reached the gate, the crowd had gathered.Three men — not students — stood near the parked bikes. Jeans, black jackets, their stance wrong for this place. They weren't here to threaten kids. They were here to look for someone.
One of them pointed toward Aryan."White hoodie. That's him."
6. The Fight in the Smoke
Someone threw a bottle first — it shattered on the ground, releasing white smoke. A homemade smoke bomb.Kids screamed, running in every direction.
Through the haze, Aryan moved quietly — low, controlled, invisible in chaos.The first man swung a bat; Aryan stepped inside his reach, palm to elbow, twist—snap. The man dropped instantly, wrist useless.
The second came fast, knife flashing.Aryan used the smoke, stepped aside, elbow to the neck, heel to the knee.Every move precise, silent — not to show off, not to win.Just to end.
By the time the smoke cleared, both attackers were down. One groaning, one unconscious.
Students surrounded the area, phones out, recording.Someone shouted, "Police! Police!"
Aryan turned, grabbed his bag, and walked away through the back exit — blending into the panic like he'd never been there.
7. The Aftermath
That night, news spread across the city."Delhi Public School gang clash — two unidentified men hospitalized."Police said it was "local rivalry."No one mentioned Aryan.
But somewhere in the shadows, a man watched the TV report and smiled.His right cheek had a long scar. His eyes were cold, but proud.
He lit a cigarette and muttered under his breath,
"Found you, little brother."
The lighter's reflection caught the name on his necklace —Jackal.