It is shown that someone has grabbed hold of the axe.
And then—
the scene shifts into a flashback.
Hebi says, "Hey, newcomer. I know you're skilled, but listen to me carefully. The one you're about to spar with—whether you win or lose—do not mock him. Understand?"
We see that the newcomer is none other than Berserker.
Looking in someone's direction, he replies,
"Senior, do you really think I'm so weak that I'd mock someone, get myself killed, and just stand there doing nothing?"
The one he is looking at… is Rohan.
Hebi warns him sharply,
"Remember what I said. If you ignore my words, I'll report you to the leader—and you won't be part of this group."
Berserker clicks his tongue, irritated.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I won't mess with anyone."
The sparring match between Rohan (Young Reaper) and Berserker is about to begin.
Berserker has already stepped onto the stage.
Now, it is Rohan's turn.
Hebi says quietly,
"Young Reaper… he's a newcomer. Go easy on him."
Rohan replies coldly,
"Don't worry. I'm not in the mood to fight today. Even if I lose, it doesn't matter."
He steps onto the stage.
The fight begins.
Rohan doesn't use his full strength.
He thinks to himself—
Let the junior have his moment today.
He allows Berserker's attacks to land on him.
The truth is, Rohan has just returned from a mission that very day.
He is exhausted.
After taking multiple blows, he finally collapses to the ground.
Seeing this, Berserker jumps in excitement and begins mocking him.
"Oh? What happened, Senior Young Reaper?
I've heard so many stories about you—how strong you are, what you've done, how you're second only to Reaper himself."
He laughs.
"But you're not worthy of that title at all.
You're a stain on the name Young Reaper."
Rohan slowly rises.
On his face appears a strange, creepy, evil smile—
as if he has just decided something truly horrific.
Seeing this, Hebi mutters under her breath,
"I warned him… never to mock him."
Moments later—
Berserker is shown sitting on the ground, trembling in fear.
Hebi, Titan, and several other members of HELL are holding Rohan back.
Hebi speaks—
"This is Young Reaper.
But he has another name… Smile of Death.
Because he only smiles when he intends to kill."
The flashback ends.
We return to the present.
The one holding the axe is none other than Rohan himself.
He stares at Khalid, wearing that same eerie, evil smile.
A man who is normally emotionless—
is now laughing like a madman.
Even Khalid hesitates for a moment.
Laughing nervously, he says,
"What? Do you think your little tricks will scare me?"
CRACK.
Rohan's punch slams straight into Khalid's face.
Rohan laughs.
"Weren't you saying you'd kill me… and everyone who escaped?"
With that, he rains punches down on Khalid.
Until now, Khalid had the upper hand.
But now—Rohan doesn't give him even a second to breathe.
Khalid is sent flying, crashing far away.
As Khalid struggles to stand, Rohan grabs him by the throat.
"Tell me," Rohan says,
"what kind of videos were you planning to make?"
His grip tightens.
"You had the nerve to torture children and women…
and record it."
He glances at the torture tools nearby.
"Now I'll make the video.
Of you—and your entire organization."
He picks up two iron hooks.
He drives them into Khalid's back ribs
and chains him, hanging him there.
Then Rohan turns the camera on.
Everything he does now—
will be recorded.
"I will not tolerate cruelty against any Indian,"
Rohan says into the camera.
"This is my warning."
As he speaks, memories flood his mind—
how these people cut off hands, noses, ears…
how they mutilated bodies and discarded them like trash.
Rohan lifts the axe.
First—
an arm.
Then—
a leg.
An ear.
A nose.
Khalid screams in agony.
Rohan laughs.
The humanity inside him—
seems completely dead.
Khalid loses so much blood
that he finally dies from blood loss.
Rohan looks into the camera.
"Very soon, I'll hunt each one of you down.
If you value your lives, leave this land and never return.
You are not the only devils here—
I, too, came from HELL."
He blurs his face
and uploads the video to the dark web.
That's when his eyes fall upon a body lying on the ground.
The Lieutenant General.
His face is covered in blood.
His breathing is faint—but he's alive.
Rohan walks forward silently.
He lifts the General onto his shoulder—
as if he weighs nothing,
as if this is just another responsibility.
As they exit the tunnel, Army soldiers go on alert.
"Sir!"
"The Lieutenant General is alive!"
Rohan hands him over.
"Get him to the medical unit,"
he says calmly—
his voice steady, unquestionable.
The soldiers move immediately.
No one dares to question Rohan.
They only stare—
—blood-soaked clothes
—cold, empty eyes
—and the expression of someone who has survived a war
The Lieutenant General, drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, looks at Rohan.
With a weak voice, he asks,
"Who… are you?"
Rohan pauses for a moment.
Then says only—
"That doesn't matter"
Without looking back,
he walks toward the snow-covered mountains.
The lights of the Army base slowly fade behind him.
The darkness of the tunnel swallows him once again.
Leaving Kashmir behind,
Rohan boards a local night bus.
Outside the window—
• deserted roads
• checkpoint lights
• distant gunfire echoing through silent mountains
Rohan sits quietly.
Dried blood still stains his hands.
Three days have passed.
Only seven days remain.
The 10-day countdown has truly begun.
Before sunrise, the bus reaches Jammu.
The city feels alive—
but to Rohan, it's merely a transit point.
He heads straight to the airport.
No luggage.
No hesitation.
No identity questions.
Just a one-way ticket.
Jammu to Amritsar.
The boarding announcement echoes.
Rohan walks toward the gate, expressionless.
Once seated inside the plane,
he closes his eyes.
The coordinates of the next base
are already clear in his mind.
Final Line
Kashmir was only the beginning.
Amritsar…
this time, the war was going to be far more personal.
Countdown: Day 3 / 10