Arnav stopped beside Pranati, close enough now that she had to look up at him.
"I'll ride the scooter," he said evenly. "I'll drop you home."
Pranati blinked. "You?" The word slipped out before she could soften it. Then, quickly, "I mean—are you sure you can?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I'm not judging," she said. "It's just… you look like someone who drives cars. Expensive ones. Not scooters."
A faint pause.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of Arnav's mouth lifted. "You'd be surprised."
She studied him for a second longer, then shrugged. "Fair enough."
He nodded toward the seat. "Do you have a spare helmet?"
Pranati reached under the scooter seat, wincing as she bent. "Yeah—wait." She pulled one out and handed it to him. "It's… old."
He took it without comment, slipping it on, adjusting the strap with practiced ease. The engine started smoothly under his hand—confident, familiar.
He glanced back at her. "Carefully."
Pranati swallowed and stepped closer. With her ankle still aching, she couldn't swing her leg properly, so she settled in sideways at first, steadying herself instinctively.
Her hands landed against his shoes for balance.
The contact was brief—but charged.
Arnav stiffened just slightly, not moving, not reacting, giving her time. The air between them tightened, awareness blooming where there had been none moments ago.
"Sorry," Pranati muttered quickly, embarrassed. "Ankle."
"It's fine," he said, voice low, steady. "Take your time."
She adjusted, finally sitting properly, her hands hovering uncertainly before resting lightly at his sides—not holding him, not quite letting go either.
The scooter idled beneath them, the world momentarily narrowing to the space they shared.
Arnav looked straight ahead.
Pranati exhaled slowly.
Neither of them spoke.
And yet—something had begun.
On the Highway —
The road stretched long and open, flanked by trees that blurred into shadows as the scooter cut through the late afternoon air.
Pranati sat quietly behind Arnav, careful not to put weight on her injured ankle. The wind pressed against them, carrying away words neither of them tried to speak.
Somewhere deep inside his chest, something stirred.
Arnav's jaw tightened slightly.
That feeling again.
A pressure—like eyes on his back.
His grip on the handle tightened instinctively, but he didn't turn. The road demanded focus. Whatever it was, he couldn't afford distraction.
Behind them—far behind—something moved.
From one tree to another, a figure glided unnaturally, feet never touching the ground. Kapalika's braid lashed through the air, slicing it with a sharp, whipping sound as she followed, her eyes fixed on Arnav's retreating form.
"So close," she murmured, voice laced with hunger. "Yet not mine."
She raised her hands, fingers curling slowly as black enchantment bled into the air—thick, oily mist seeping from her palms.
"For Daavansh to return to darkness," she whispered, weaving the spell tighter, "he must be fed… slowly. Bit by bit."
The fog surged forward, rolling low along the road, reaching—reaching—
And then—
It recoiled.
The black mist twisted sharply, as if striking an invisible barrier, shuddering violently before snapping back toward Kapalika like a living thing refusing command.
Her eyes narrowed.
Again, she sent it forth—stronger this time.
Again, it returned.
Not a single thread brushed the scooter.
Not even close.
Kapalika staggered back a step, disbelief flashing across her face. "Impossible…" she hissed. "Nothing blocks him. Nothing."
Ahead, Pranati shifted slightly as the wind changed direction, unaware of the unseen line drawn around her. Her hand brushed Arnav's arm briefly as she steadied herself.
The moment her touch settled—
The air around them felt… clear.
Arnav's breathing eased without him realizing why. The pressure faded, retreating into nothing.
Behind them, Kapalika stared, rage simmering beneath confusion.
"Who are you," she whispered, eyes burning into Pranati's silhouette, "that even darkness refuses to touch him when you are near?"
The braid snapped violently in the air.
"This isn't over," Kapalika vowed. "If light shields him now… I will find the shadow that separates you."
The scooter disappeared down the road—unaware, untouched.
And for the first time since the awakening began, the darkness had been denied.