Meanwhile, from the opposite direction
Pranati's scooter coughed once.
Then again.
And then—nothing.
She slowed instinctively, pulling over to the side of the road just as the engine gave up completely. The sudden silence felt louder than the traffic rushing past her. Late-afternoon sunlight glinted off passing vehicles, indifferent, unbothered.
Pranati swung her leg off the scooter and stood there for a moment, helmet still in her hands, staring at it as if disbelief alone might coax it back to life.
"You have to be kidding me," she muttered.
She bent down, flicked the kick-start once.
Nothing.
Twice.
Still nothing.
Her shoulders sagged. She pushed a loose strand of hair back from her face and let out a slow breath, irritation bubbling up beneath her exhaustion. The delivery bag dug into her shoulder, heavier now that the job was done and patience was not.
"Seriously," she said, more to herself than the machine. "What is my luck?"
She straightened, looking up and down the highway. Cars sped past, dust swirling in their wake, none slowing, none noticing the girl stranded on the edge of the road with a dead scooter and a day that refused to go smoothly.
The sun hung low, casting a warm glow that felt almost mocking.
Unseen, fate adjusted its course.
Two lives, moving in opposite directions, had just come to a halt—one by choice, the other by chance.
Meanwhile, from the same direction
Far behind Pranati, the highway hummed on—unaware, uninterrupted.
A truck emerged through the wavering heat haze, its engine roaring steadily as it cut through the afternoon traffic. Dust rose in soft clouds beneath its tires, the sound of metal and motion filling the air.
And then—
Something else moved with it.
Clinging effortlessly to the side of the truck was a woman.
Her grip was unnatural, fingers curled around the iron frame as though gravity itself meant nothing to her. Her body swayed gently with the vehicle's motion, hair loose, dark, trailing behind her like a shadow stretched too long.
Her feet touched the metal.
Reversed.
Heels facing forward. Toes pointing back.
She walked—no, glided—along the side of the speeding truck as if it were solid ground beneath her. No fear. No hesitation. Her movements were smooth, practiced… ancient.
The woman's lips curved faintly, as though she sensed something ahead.
As though she had been summoned.
The truck surged forward, carrying her closer—closer to the stranded scooter, closer to the girl who stood unaware at the edge of the road, brushing dust from her hands and cursing her luck.
The distance between hunter and prey quietly dissolved.
---
Meanwhile, from the opposite direction
From far down the highway, a black car cut through the thinning traffic.
Inside it, Arnav sat rigid behind the wheel, his grip tight, knuckles pale against the steering leather. The late-afternoon sun slanted through the windshield, painting long streaks of gold across the road—but none of it reached him.
His mind was elsewhere.
At home.
Vedshree's worried eyes flashed before him—the way she watched him these days, as if every breath he took could be his last moment of control. Suman's quiet prayers, whispered when she thought no one was listening. Dadi's trembling hands whenever she touched his forehead, as if checking whether he was still human.
Ranav and Arav's laughter echoed faintly in his memory. The way they followed him everywhere. The way they still believed he could protect them.
A sharp breath escaped him.
I already hurt you once, he thought, jaw tightening. I won't let it happen again.
The bracelet around his wrist felt heavier than usual—warm, almost restless. A silent reminder of what he was… and what he could become now that its power had reached its limit.
"I'm doing this for you," he murmured, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "All of you."
The car sped forward, carrying him farther from the only home he had ever known—toward an uncertain fate he had chosen alone.
Unseen, destiny tightened its grip.
---
To be continued…