Meanwhile — At the Sea Port
The wind had picked up along the dock, carrying the distant echo of panic from the open waters.
Siya stood near the edge, her dupatta fluttering wildly as she strained her eyes toward the horizon. From here, the yacht was only a dark shape against the churning sea—but even from this distance, she could feel it.
Something was wrong.
Her fingers curled slowly into her palm. "I shouldn't have let her go alone," she murmured, guilt threading through her voice. "I knew this night wasn't ordinary."
She glanced down at the security gate behind her—the guard standing firm, the passes being checked again and again. No entry. No exceptions.
A useless barrier.
Siya shut her eyes, drawing a slow, steady breath. The noise of the port—the shouting, the engines, the wind—faded into the background as her focus sharpened.
A soft rustle broke the silence near her feet.
She opened her eyes.
From beneath the shadows of the dock railing, a black cobra slid forward, its scales catching the faint glow of the port lights. It rose slightly, hood spreading just enough to reveal its presence—not threatening, not afraid.
Waiting.
Siya bent down slowly, her movements calm, familiar. "I failed to protect her tonight," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. "So you will go where I cannot."
The cobra's tongue flicked once.
"Be my eyes," Siya said softly. "Be my hands."
She lowered her arm, and the serpent moved—coiling around her wrist with practiced ease before gliding down, its body cool and alive against her skin.
Siya leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching its hood. "Find the girl," she breathed. "And bring me the truth."
The cobra slipped from her arm, sliding smoothly over the edge of the dock.
Without hesitation, it entered the water.
The sea parted around its dark form as it disappeared beneath the surface, moving unnaturally fast—cutting through the waves, straight toward the chaos brewing around the yacht.
Siya straightened slowly, her eyes fixed on the restless horizon.
"Shiva, protect her," she whispered—not as a plea, but as a promise.
Far out at sea, the storm raged on.
And beneath the waves, something ancient obeyed her call.
---
As the yacht lurched violently, its deck tilting under the weight of the rising sea, Arnav tightened his grip on the railing, eyes scanning for his brothers one last time.
"Go," he urged again, his voice sharp with urgency. "Both of you. Now."
Ranav reached the entrance of the safe room first. He turned back, breath uneven, eyes meeting Arnav's for a fleeting second. The chaos around them blurred—screams, crashing waves, metal groaning under pressure.
"You proceed," Ranav said firmly, nodding toward Arav. "Get inside."
Arav hesitated, panic and refusal written all over his face. "No—Ranav, I'm not leaving you here."
Ranav grabbed his arm, squeezing hard. "Listen to me," he said, his voice steady despite the storm. "I'm a cop. I can't just lock myself in when people are falling all around us."
Another violent jolt threw someone off balance nearby. A woman screamed as she hit the deck.
Ranav's jaw clenched. "This is what I signed up for."
Arav swallowed, torn. His eyes flicked once toward Arnav, then back to his brother. "Just… don't do anything stupid."
Ranav gave a faint, almost teasing smirk—one that barely masked the fear. "Pot calling the kettle black?"
Arav exhaled shakily, then nodded. He stepped backward, disappearing into the safe room as the door began to close.
Ranav turned immediately, scanning the deck.
People were slipping, crying, clutching railings. Crew members shouted conflicting instructions. The yacht tilted again, water sloshing dangerously close to the deck.
"Easy, easy—hold the rail!" Ranav shouted, rushing toward a fallen elderly man, helping him back to his feet. "One step at a time!"
Nearby, Pranati struggled to keep her balance, her earlier ankle injury flaring as the deck shifted beneath her. She grabbed onto a pillar, heart hammering, eyes wide with fear as the sea roared closer.
At the same moment, Arnav moved.
He didn't think. He didn't calculate.
He simply went where he was needed.
He caught a man before he could slide across the deck, then turned just in time to see Pranati stumble again. Their eyes met—hers filled with shock, his with something darker… restrained.
"Hold on!" Arnav called, reaching toward her as the yacht creaked ominously.
Above them, the sky darkened further. The sea rose higher.
And unseen beneath the churning water, something ancient moved faster—guided by a silent command.
To be continued…