Morning.
Grey light through broken windows.
Ayesha still unconscious.
Mira brewing coffee.
Bharat hadn't slept.
His phone rang.
Not Peacock.
The hospital.
His mother's hospital.
Caller ID: Dr. Mehta.
Bharat's hand froze.
Heart rate spiking.
Dr. Mehta never called.
Unless something was wrong.
Or about to be.
He answered.
"Dr. Mehta."
"Bharat. We need to talk."
Not good morning. Not how are you. Just we need to talk.
The words doctors used when they were about to deliver bad news.
"What happened?"
"Your mother's condition has… changed."
"Changed how?"
"Her vitals destabilized overnight. Blood pressure dropped. Kidney function declined."
"Why?"
Pause.
"We're investigating."
Translation: they didn't know.
Or they suspected but couldn't prove.
"I'm coming."
"Bharat—"
"I'm coming. Now."
He ended the call.
Mira looked up.
"What's wrong?"
"My mother. Something happened."
"What?"
"I don't know. But I need to go."
"I'll come with you."
"No. Stay with Ayesha."
"Bharat—"
"Please."
She nodded.
Understanding.
Some things you had to do alone.
The hospital was forty minutes away.
Bharat made it in twenty-five.
Speed limits were suggestions when your mother was dying.
Dr. Mehta met him in the hallway.
Looking tired. Worried.
The kind of expression doctors wore when they'd seen something they couldn't explain.
"Bharat. Thank you for coming."
"What happened?"
"Come with me."
They walked to his mother's room.
ICU. Restricted access.
Machines beeping. IV drips. Monitors.
And his mother.
Still unconscious.
Still fragile.
But something was different.
Her skin.
Pale. Too pale.
Like she was fading.
Like she was becoming translucent.
"What is this?"
"We don't know. Her blood work came back abnormal."
"Abnormal how?"
"Trace elements. Compounds we can't identify."
Pause.
"Bharat… has anyone had access to her room? Anyone unusual?"
Bharat's mind raced.
"Why?"
"Because we think someone tampered with her medication."
"Tampered?"
"Substituted it. Or added something to it."
Pause.
"We found discrepancies in the IV logs. Someone changed her drip bag last night."
Bharat's vision went red.
"Who?"
"We don't know. The nurse on duty didn't authorize it."
"Then who did?"
"That's what we're trying to find out."
Security footage.
Dr. Mehta pulled it up on a tablet.
Timestamp: 2:47 AM.
His mother's room.
A figure entered.
Dressed in scrubs. Face mask. Hospital ID badge.
Moved to the IV stand.
Swapped the drip bag.
Left.
Total time: ninety seconds.
"Who is that?"
"We checked the ID badge. It's registered to a Dr. Sharma."
"And?"
"Dr. Sharma was off-duty last night. And when we called him, he said his badge was stolen two weeks ago."
Pause.
"Someone's been using it."
Bharat stared at the screen.
Rewound.
Watched again.
The figure's movements.
Practiced. Efficient.
Not a doctor.
A professional.
"Can you enhance the image?"
"I can try."
Dr. Mehta zoomed in. The figure's face was mostly covered. But there—just visible—a tattoo on the left wrist.
Small. Stylized.
A peacock.
No.
Not Peacock.
Someone working for him?
Or against him?
Bharat's phone buzzed.
Message from Peacock.
[PEACOCK]: Check your mother's room.
[PEACOCK]: Someone's been there.
[BHARAT]: I know. I'm here now.
[PEACOCK]: Good. Then you'll want to see this.
A video file.
Bharat downloaded it.
Opened.
Security footage.
Different angle.
Same timestamp.
But this one showed the hallway.
Showed the figure entering.
And showed them stopping.
Looking directly at the camera.
Removing the mask.
Just for a second.
Long enough to be identified.
Bharat's blood froze.
The face.
He knew it.
One of Rajan's temple security.
The same man who'd been at the auction.
The same man who'd been tracking them.
Rajan.
Rajan had poisoned his mother.
Bharat's hands shook.
Rage.
Pure.
Incandescent.
"Where is he?"
"Who?"
"The man in the video."
"I don't know. We've alerted security but—"
"Find him."
"Bharat—"
"FIND HIM."
Dr. Mehta stepped back.
Nodded.
"I'll call the police."
"No."
"Bharat, this is attempted murder—"
"I said no."
Pause.
"I'll handle it."
He left the room.
Pulled out his phone.
Called Peacock.
"You saw."
"I saw."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Not yet. But I will."
"How long?"
"Give me an hour."
"You have thirty minutes."
Peacock laughed.
Low. Dark.
"You're learning."
"What?"
"How to be ruthless."
"I'm learning how to survive."
"Same thing."
The line went dead.
Bharat returned to his mother's room.
Sat beside her bed.
Held her hand.
It was cold.
Too cold.
"I'm sorry."
His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry I got you into this."
"I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to stop it."
"I'm sorry—"
System notification.
Red text. Urgent.
CRITICAL: Host's mother's lifespan declining
Current status: 3 days, 14 hours remaining
Cause: Slow-acting poison (divine origin)
Treatment: Standard medical intervention ineffective
Alternative: Divine Covenant — Lifespan Transfer
Bharat stared.
"What?"
Divine Covenant — Lifespan Transfer
Option: Sacrifice host's remaining lifespan to extend target's life
Cost: 10 days of host lifespan = 30 days target lifespan (3:1 ratio)
WARNING: This action is irreversible
WARNING: Host's remaining lifespan: 28 days, 6 hours
Maximum transferable: 28 days (will result in host's immediate death)
Recommended transfer: 10 days (will leave host with 18 days, 6 hours)
Accept covenant? Y/N
Bharat's vision blurred.
Ten days.
For thirty.
A bad deal.
But his mother would live.
For a month.
Maybe long enough to find a real cure.
Maybe long enough for him to finish this.
Maybe.
His hand hovered over YES.
Finger trembling.
"Bharat."
He turned.
Mira.
Standing in the doorway.
"I told you to stay with Ayesha."
"Ayesha woke up. Told me to come."
"Why?"
"Because she knew you'd do something stupid."
Mira walked over.
Looked at the screen.
Read the covenant terms.
"Don't."
"She's dying."
"So are you."
"She's my mother."
"And you're the only one who can stop this."
Bharat looked at his mother.
At Mira.
At the countdown in his peripheral vision.
28 days, 6 hours.
Minus 10 days.
18 days, 6 hours.
Still enough time.
Maybe.
"I have to."
"No, you don't."
"Then what do I do? Let her die?"
Mira grabbed his wrist.
"You find the antidote. You stop Rajan. You break the system."
"And if I can't do that in three days?"
"Then you make the transfer. But not now."
"Why not?"
"Because once you do, there's no going back. And if something goes wrong—if you need those ten days—you won't have them."
She was right.
Logically.
Tactically.
But logic didn't matter when your mother was dying.
System notification:
Decision required within 60 seconds
Target's condition continues to decline
Delay increases risk of transfer failure
Bharat's hand moved.
Toward YES.
"Bharat, don't—"
His phone rang.
Peacock.
"I found him."
"Who?"
"The man who poisoned your mother. And Bharat?"
"What?"
"He's at a warehouse. East Mumbai. With two others."
Pause.
"And they have more poison."
Bharat stood.
"Send me the address."
"Already sent."
"And Peacock?"
"Yes?"
"If they resist…"
Pause.
"Don't."
He looked at Mira.
"Stay with her."
"Where are you going?"
"To get answers."
"Bharat—"
"If I'm not back in two hours, make the transfer for me."
"What?"
"You heard me. If I'm not back, use my authorization. Transfer the ten days."
"I can't—"
"You can."
He left.
System notification still flashing.
Decision required within 30 seconds
Bharat selected:DELAY — 2 HOURS
WARNING: Delay accepted. Target's condition will continue to decline.
If no decision is made within 2 hours, covenant will auto-execute based on last known preference.
Good enough.
The warehouse was an hour away.
Bharat made it in forty minutes.
Again.
Industrial district. Abandoned. Perfect for illegal operations.
Or poisoning someone's mother.
Bharat parked.
Checked his gear.
Guardian's Shield: 77% integrity. Damaged but functional.
Codex: In the car. Too risky to bring.
Weapon: None.
He'd never carried a gun.
Never needed to.
Until now.
He approached the warehouse.
Front door locked.
Side entrance: open.
Convenient.
Or a trap.
Probably both.
He went in.
Inside: darkness.
Smell of rust and old oil.
Footsteps echoing.
His. And others.
"Bharat Singh."
A voice from the shadows.
Familiar.
The temple guard.
"I was wondering when you'd show up."
Lights flickered on.
Harsh fluorescents.
Revealing three men.
Temple guards. All armed.
The one in the middle held a vial.
Clear liquid.
Glowing faintly.
Divine poison.
"That's what you used on my mother."
"Smart boy."
"Give it to me."
"Or what?"
"Or I take it."
The guard laughed.
"You and what army?"
"Don't need an army."
Bharat's hand moved. Traced the sigil.
Guardian's Shield manifested.
Cracked. Damaged.
But still functional.
"Just need this."
The guards raised their guns.
"That shield won't hold."
"Doesn't have to. Just has to last long enough."
"For what?"
"For you to realize you're surrounded."
Confusion.
"What—"
The side door burst open.
Ayesha.
Bandaged. Pale. Leaning on Mira.
But alive.
And armed.
"He's not alone."
The guards turned.
Distracted.
Mistake.
Bharat moved.
Fast.
Shield forward.
Slammed into the nearest guard.
Sent him sprawling.
Gun clattering.
Ayesha fired.
Non-lethal. Rubber rounds.
Hit the second guard in the knee.
He dropped.
The leader—the one with the vial—backed away.
"Stay back!"
"Or what?" Bharat asked. "You'll poison me too?"
"I'll destroy the antidote!"
Pause.
"There is one, right? An antidote?"
Silence.
Then the guard smiled.
"Maybe."
"Where?"
"Rajan has it."
"Where is Rajan?"
"Gone. Left the country."
"Liar."
"Am I?"
Bharat's shield flickered.
Integrity dropping.
74%.
72%.
The crack spreading.
System notification:
WARNING: Shield failure imminent
Next fracture will cost 8 hours lifespan
"Tell me where he is. Now."
"Or what? You'll kill me?"
"No."
Bharat stepped closer.
"I'll let her do it."
Ayesha raised the gun.
"I don't use rubber rounds for people who poison dying women."
The guard's smile faded.
"You're bluffing."
"Try me."
Pause.
Then the guard broke.
"Fine! Fine. Rajan's at the temple. Hidden wing. East side."
"And the antidote?"
"With him."
"How do I know you're not lying?"
"You don't."
Ayesha pulled the trigger.
Shot the vial out of his hand.
Glass shattered.
Poison spilled.
Useless.
"Now you have nothing to bargain with," she said.
The guard stared.
Then ran.
The other two followed.
Wounded. Limping.
But alive.
Bharat let them go.
"We need to move."
"Where?"
"The temple. Now."
"You can barely stand."
"Neither can you."
Pause.
"So we'll fall together."
Mira's phone buzzed.
Message from the hospital.
Dr. Mehta.
[DR. MEHTA]: Bharat, your mother's stabilized. We found a treatment.
[DR. MEHTA]: She's going to be okay.
Bharat stopped.
Read it again.
Stabilized.
Treatment.
Okay.
System notification:
Target's lifespan extended: 30 days
Covenant transfer no longer required
Lifespan cost: CANCELLED
Bharat's legs gave out.
Sat down.
Right there in the warehouse.
"She's okay."
"What?"
"My mother. She's okay."
Ayesha smiled.
Tired. Relieved.
"Good."
"How?"
"Does it matter?"
Pause.
"She's alive. That's what matters."
Bharat's phone buzzed.
Peacock.
[PEACOCK]: You're welcome.
[BHARAT]: What did you do?
[PEACOCK]: Had a doctor friend analyze the poison. Found a counter-agent. Administered it.
[PEACOCK]: She'll be weak for a few days. But she'll live.
[BHARAT]: How much did this cost you?
[PEACOCK]: More favors than I care to count.
[PEACOCK]: You owe me. Big.
[BHARAT]: I know.
[PEACOCK]: Good. Now go get Rajan.
[PEACOCK]: Before he tries again.