Amitesh had barely recovered from the first slap Arjun took—
when the second one cracked through the garden.
Slap.
The sound lingered in the air.
'If she wanted to say no… she could've just said no. Why is she hitting him?'
Before the thought could settle, Kayaa grabbed Arjun by the collar and pulled him forward.
And kissed him.
Amitesh shut his eyes immediately.
Nope. Not watching that. I'm already in pain —this will finish me and will make me bleed through my eyes.
Silence followed. Brief. Unreal.
When he finally forced one eye open—
Kayaa had already stepped back.
Her gaze had dropped to the ground, a soft blush spreading across her face, as if she had only just realized what she'd done.
Arjun looked worse.
Completely frozen. Mind blank. As if his brain had simply… refused to process the sequence of events.
Confession.
Slap.
Another slap.
And then—
this.
Kayaa lifted her eyes, just enough to meet his.
"Idiot," she muttered, voice tight with something between anger and embarrassment. "It took you twenty years to say that?"
Arjun opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Honestly, what could he say?
Very few people could confess, get slapped twice, and still walk away with their first kiss in the same minute.
Amitesh exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulder like he was preparing for impact.
'I was ready to console him. Thought he'd cry or something.'
A pause.
'But this… yeah, this works too.'
He glanced at Arjun again.
This guy was born lucky. First confession, first kiss—same scene.
A small shake of his head.
When luck comes, it doesn't come halfway.
Arjun came back to himself slowly.
For a moment, he just stood there—still, stunned—like his mind hadn't fully caught up with what had just happened.
Then his fingers rose, almost unconsciously, brushing against his lips.
As if confirming it had been real.
"Stop touching them like that, pervert!"
Kayaa snapped, her voice sharp—too sharp to hide the embarrassment burning across her face.
Arjun didn't even flinch.
'She's embarrassed.'
A small, disbelieving smile tugged at his lips.
'And I just got my first kiss…
I might actually be in heaven.'
He took a step toward her.
Kayaa immediately stepped back.
The distance between them stayed the same.
"Kayaa," he said, softer this time.
No response.
Her eyes flickered away. The air between them stretched—thin, fragile, waiting for something to break it.
It didn't.
A sharp whistle cut clean through the silence.
Both of them turned.
Amitesh was walking toward them, hands buried in his pockets, completely unbothered. The whistle continued—steady 10 sec, deliberate—for a few seconds longer before he finally stopped in front of them.
His gaze moved from Arjun… to Kayaa… and back again.
A pause.
Then—
"So," he said casually, "should I come back later, or are we done with the violence phase?"
Kayaa's eyes shifted to Amitesh.
Her gaze moved over him—slowly, deliberately—from head to toe, then back up again.
It stopped at his eyebrow.
At the cut.
Recognition flickered.
"So," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly, "you're Amitesh. The one who killed that giant bird."
Amitesh didn't deny it.
But he didn't fully accept it either.
"It wasn't just me," he said, waving a hand lightly, as if brushing the whole thing aside. "Team effort. Don't overthink it."
His tone made it sound smaller than it was.
Like it didn't matter.
Then he glanced between her and Arjun, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Well," he added, "now that the romantic drama is over…"
A brief pause.
"…can we get to the important part?"
Kayaa hesitated for a second, then nodded.
They both sat down on a nearby bench.
Amitesh remained standing in front of them.
Amitesh glanced at Arjun and Kayaa.
They weren't doing anything special.
Just sitting there—close, quiet, awkward in that way people are when something has just changed between them.
And yet…
Something felt different.
Warmer in his heart.
It caught him off guard.
This is… new.
His brows drew together slightly.
I've never felt this before.
Why does it feel like this?
A faint glow flickered in front of his eyes.
A translucent purple screen appeared.
"You are experiencing elevated emotional resonance."
Amitesh stared at it.
"…What?"
"You are currently feeling what they are feeling."
His gaze shifted back to Arjun and Kayaa.
Still the same.
Still normal.
But now—
not distant.
Why am I feeling their emotions?
The screen responded almost instantly.
"Your ability allows you to perceive and partially experience the emotional states of others.In simple words it's your humanity."
A brief pause.
"Human connection enhances this effect."
Amitesh frowned slightly.
So this…
His eyes lingered on them again.
This is their… happiness?
It didn't feel overwhelming.
Not intense.
Just—
soft.
Real.
And strangely… unfamiliar.
He looked away first.
"…That's annoying," he muttered under his breath.
But he didn't dismiss it.
Not completely.
He stepped closer and reached out, tilting Arjun's chin slightly to the side to inspect his face.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "You hit him properly."
Both cheeks were still flushed red.
He let go and straightened.
"I think this only happens when you make a girl wait too long."
Kayaa froze.
Then immediately covered her face with both hands.
"…sorry, Arjun," she mumbled from behind her fingers.
"So… what do you want?" Kayaa asked, looking at Amitesh through gap of her fingers.
Amitesh didn't answer immediately. He studied her for a moment, as if weighing something.
"Well, this might take a while," he said. "So let's start simple."
A brief pause.
"Do you agree with what your brother is doing? The gang… all of it."
For him, this mattered.
If she stood on her brother's side, this conversation would go nowhere.
Kayaa shifted slightly on the bench. Her fingers moved to her hair,
absentmindedly twisting a strand around them.
"I don't really like it," she admitted quietly. "But… I can't stop him."
Her gaze dropped.
"He says he's doing it for a reason. For himself… and for me."
Amitesh watched her quietly for a moment.
Her answer had been soft, uncertain—but honest.
That was enough.
He nodded once, as if confirming something to himself, then slipped his hands back into his pockets.
"Good," he said. "That makes this easier."
Arjun glanced between them, still a little lost.
"Easier for what?"
Amitesh ignored the question for a
second, his eyes still on Kayaa.
"Your brother's not just running some small-time group," he said. "He's getting pulled into something bigger. And he either doesn't see it… or doesn't care."
Kayaa frowned, her fingers tightening slightly in her hair.
"What do you mean?"
Amitesh exhaled lightly.
"People like him don't stay small for long. Someone stronger notices. Then comes the offers… or the pressure."
A brief pause.
"And after that, it's not really his choice anymore."
The words settled heavier than expected.
Arjun straightened a little. "Are you saying he's in danger?"
"I'm saying," Amitesh replied calmly, "that the path he's on doesn't end well."
Kayaa looked up at him again, this time more directly.
There was worry in her eyes now.
"And you know this… how?"
A faint, almost amused expression crossed Amitesh's face.
"I pay attention," he said.
That wasn't an answer.
Kayaa could tell.
But before she could press further, he continued.
"I'm not here to judge him," Amitesh added. "Or you."
His tone softened slightly.
"I'm here because if things go wrong… you'll be the one caught in the middle."
Silence returned, but this time it felt different.
Heavier. Real.
Arjun glanced at Kayaa, then back at Amitesh.
"So what are we supposed to do?" he asked.
Amitesh tilted his head slightly, as if considering how much to say.
Then—
"For now?" he said.
A small pause.
"Nothing."
Kayaa blinked. "Nothing?"
"Yeah."
He shrugged lightly.
"You don't warn him yet. You don't confront him. And you definitely don't act like something's wrong."
Arjun frowned. "That sounds like a terrible plan."
"It's not a plan," Amitesh said. "It's control."
He shifted his gaze back to Kayaa.
"If he suspects anything, he'll shut you out. And then you lose whatever influence you still have."
Kayaa didn't respond immediately.
But she understood.
Slowly, she nodded.
"…Then what?" she asked.
Amitesh's expression turned more focused now.
"Then we figure out who's behind him," he said. "Who's pushing things forward."
A slight pause.
"And whether they're worth dealing with… or removing."
The casual way he said it made Arjun stiffen.
"…Removing?" he repeated.
Amitesh glanced at him.
"Relax," he said. "I didn't say how."
That didn't help.
Kayaa looked between the two of them, unease settling in her chest.
"You're talking like this is already decided," she said quietly.
Amitesh didn't deny it this time.
"Because it is," he replied
No arrogance. No emotion.
Just certainty.
"And the longer we wait," he added, "the worse it gets."
The garden felt quieter now.
Like even the air was listening.
Amitesh straightened slightly, the moment of stillness breaking.
"So," he said, more casually again, "we start by doing nothing."
A glance at Arjun.
"And you—try not to get slapped again before we're done. It's distracting."
Arjun stared at him.
"…That wasn't my fault."
Amitesh gave a small shrug.
"History won't remember that part."
Kayaa let out a small, embarrassed breath despite herself, her hands still half-covering her face.
The tension didn't disappear—
but it shifted.
And for now,
that was enough.
"Alright," Amitesh said, his tone shifting, more focused now. "Let's start properly."
He looked straight at Kayaa.
"Tell me everything. Where your brother usually stays. Who he meets. And where he keeps the weapons."
A brief pause.
"Especially the uranium box."
Kayaa hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"He usually stays at a warehouse," she said. "With his gang."
She glanced down, thinking.
"The guns are kept in a separate room. It's attached to the main building."
Amitesh listened without interrupting.
"How many?" he asked. "Weapons. People."
Kayaa shook her head.
"I don't know. He never lets me go inside."
Amitesh clicked his tongue softly but didn't push.
"Fine," he said. "Then the uranium box."
"It's in his room," Kayaa replied. "Inside a locker."
Amitesh's eyes sharpened slightly.
"You know the password?"
Kayaa nodded.
"Three… nine… eight… seven."
A small smile appeared on Amitesh's face.
"Good."
Then, almost casually—
"If you hadn't told me all this, I would've had to try other methods."
Arjun's brows pulled together.
"What kind of methods?"
Amitesh glanced at him, completely calm.
"Well," he said, "first I would've found where she lives."
A slight pause.
"Kidnapped her."
Kayaa stiffened.
"And then?" Arjun asked, his voice lower now.
"Then I'd use her to pressure your brother," Amitesh continued, like he was explaining something routine. "Get the uranium box. Maybe a few other useful things along the way."
Silence.
The air shifted again.
Amitesh shrugged lightly.
"Messy," he added. "So this is better."
"Kayaa—"
Her voice came out tight. Not loud, but edged with anger… and something more fragile beneath it.
Hurt.
Amitesh looked at her for a second, then raised a hand slightly.
"Relax," he said. "I'm not going to do anything.Not now"
Kayaa didn't look convinced.
Her fingers tightened in her lap before she spoke again, softer this time.
"There's one more thing…"
A brief pause.
"That uranium… it's not just—"
----
The room was quieter.
Closed. Controlled.
Amitesh sat back in his chair, casually munching on almonds as if none of this concerned him.
Across from him sat Zoey, Mahaveer, and Captain Singh.
Zoey's patience ran out first.
"Are you going to keep eating," she said, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him, "or are you planning to tell us something?"
Amitesh didn't respond immediately.
Just another almond.
A slow chew.
Then he glanced up.
Amitesh smiled at Zoey's irritated expression.
If he'd been alone, he might've laughed out loud.
"Oh, come on," he said lightly. "Let me enjoy this for a second. You all make me work very hard, you know."
He tossed another almond into his mouth, completely unbothered.
Zoey's glare sharpened.
Across the table, Captain Singh shifted his gaze toward Mahaveer.
"I told you," he said, voice firm but controlled, "if he got involved, there would be complications. He's not someone who follows discipline for long."
Mahaveer didn't respond immediately.
His eyes stayed on Amitesh, studying him.
"Maybe," he said after a moment. "But he was the only viable option."
A brief pause.
"We didn't have the luxury of choosing someone safer."
Amitesh clicked his tongue softly.
"Still talking about me like I'm not here," he muttered, almost amused.
"Amitesh, I have work to do," Zoey said, her patience thinning. "This is serious. So act like it and focus."
Amitesh leaned back slightly, unfazed.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" he replied. "I'm not going anywhere."
A faint smirk appeared.
"And as for being serious… someone once told me it doesn't suit me."
He shrugged.
"So I don't see a reason to change."
Zoey's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That wasn't a suggestion," she said. "We don't have time for your attitude."
The room tightened around her words.
Captain Singh leaned forward just a fraction. "Report," he said, direct and final.
Mahaveer said nothing—but his gaze didn't leave Amitesh.
Amitesh let the silence sit for a moment longer.
Then he sighed.
"Fine."
He straightened a little, the casual edge fading—not gone, but quieter.
"The girl talked."
Zoey didn't react outwardly. "And?"
"Her brother's operating out of a warehouse," Amitesh continued. "Keeps his people there. Weapons stored in a separate attached room."
Mahaveer's eyes sharpened. "Numbers?"
"Unknown," Amitesh said. "She's not allowed inside."
Captain Singh gave a small nod. "Continue."
Amitesh paused for a second.
This time, when he spoke, his tone shifted—subtly, but enough.
"There's a locker in his room."
Zoey leaned forward slightly. "And?"
Amitesh looked at her.
"Inside it," he said, "is what we're actually dealing with."
A brief silence.
Then—
"Uranium."
The word settled heavily in the room.
Zoey's expression hardened.
Captain Singh's posture went completely still.
Mahaveer exhaled slowly, as if he had expected something bad—
just not this.
"You're sure?" Zoey asked.
Amitesh gave a small shrug. "As sure as I can be without opening it myself."
"That's not enough," she said immediately.
"It will have to be for now," Amitesh replied, calm again. "But there's more."
That got their attention.
"The locker has a code," he added. "I have it."
Captain Singh's eyes locked onto him. "Say it."
"Three-nine-eight-seven."
Mahaveer repeated it under his breath, committing it to memory.
Zoey leaned back slightly, processing.
"If this is real…" she murmured, "this isn't just a gang issue anymore."
"No," Captain Singh said quietly. "It isn't."
Amitesh watched them, expression unreadable.
"Which is why," he said, "we don't rush in like idiots."
Zoey's gaze snapped back to him. "We don't have the luxury of waiting either."
"And we don't have the luxury of being wrong," Amitesh replied.
A pause.
Controlled. Heavy.
"If we move too early," he continued, "the box disappears. Or worse—it gets used."
That landed.
Mahaveer finally spoke, his voice low. "So what's your play?"
Amitesh leaned back again, but this time it wasn't laziness.
It was calculation.
"We watch," he said.
Zoey frowned. "That's it?"
"For now," Amitesh replied. "We confirm movement. Who's backing him. Who's interested."
A slight tilt of his head.
"Because a gang like that doesn't get uranium on its own."
Silence.
This time, no one argued.
Captain Singh spoke last.
"…If you're wrong," he said, steady and cold, "we've wasted critical time."
Amitesh met his gaze without hesitation.
"And if I'm right," he replied, "we're already late."
No one had an answer to that.
The room fell quiet again—
but now,
it wasn't uncertain.
It was preparing.
Amitesh reached for the bottle of water nearby and took a long drink.
He didn't stop until it was empty.
"Ahh…"
A satisfied exhale.
Then he glanced at them, something almost amused flickering in his eyes.
"And there's one more thing," he said.
A slight pause.
"You're going to laugh when you hear it."
Amitesh leaned back slightly, the faint smile still lingering.
"But that can wait," he said, waving it off.
Zoey's eyes narrowed immediately.
"No. It can't—"
"It can," Amitesh cut in, calm but firm.
"Because right now, it won't change what we do next."
That didn't satisfy her.
But she didn't interrupt again.
Amitesh pushed the empty bottle aside and stood up.
"Keep the code ready," he added. "We'll need it soon."
Captain Singh watched him carefully. "And where exactly are you going?"
Amitesh glanced back, already halfway to the door.
"To confirm something."
Mahaveer's voice came, low and measured. "Alone?"
Amitesh paused just long enough to answer.
"When am I not?"
Then he walked out.
---
The night had settled fully over the city.
Dim streetlights stretched across empty roads, their glow broken by passing shadows and distant movement.
Amitesh moved without hurry.
Hands in his pockets. Steps unbothered.
But his eyes—
were working.
Observing.
Measuring.
The warehouse came into view from a distance. Quiet. Still. Too still.
No loud voices. No careless movement.
That was the first sign something was off.
Amitesh slowed slightly, stopping just short of the outer boundary.
Not sloppy, he noted.
That's already a problem.
His gaze shifted across the structure—entry points, blind spots, possible exits.
Then—
a faint movement.
Near the side entrance.
Someone standing guard.
Not relaxed.
Not bored.
Alert.
Amitesh's expression changed just a little.
The lazy amusement faded.
'Yeah… this isn't just a gang anymore.'
He stood there, eyes fixed on the warehouse.
Thinking.
Hmm… what now?
He exhaled slowly, scanning the structure again.
Do I just walk in? No… bad idea.
No clear blind spots. No easy entry.
Too exposed.
His gaze shifted—corners, shadows, roofline.
There's nowhere clean to slip in.
A brief pause.
Then—
A distraction?
He tilted his head slightly, considering it.
Or I wait… and see who moves first.
The night stayed quiet.
But not empty.
The purple glow bled into the edges of his vision before the name even appeared.
Astraea.
Amitesh didn't look up immediately. He tightened his grip on what he was doing, jaw set, as if ignoring her might make her go away.
It didn't.
"Humm, Amitesh… miss me? Because I missed you. A lot."
Her voice came soft, almost playful—like someone leaning too close just to see your reaction.
"Well… no," he muttered, finally
glancing up. "And why are you talking to me right now? I'm in the middle of something important. And where's that yellow-screen god… I forgot his name."
A faint pause. Then a quiet chuckle.
"We made a deal. He stays with his original owner—the girl. I stay with you."
Of course you do, he thought, irritation rising. Like I don't already have enough problems.
"Don't you have some actual god work?" he said. "Go send someone to another world or something."
Another pause.
This one lingered a second too long.
"Well," she said lightly, "how about you? Should I strike you with lightning instead?"
Amitesh didn't even flinch this time. "No thanks. I remember you said you wouldn't let me reincarnate again."
Silence.
Then—
"You listen carefully," Astraea said, her tone shifting just a fraction. Not colder… but sharper. Focused.
"I'm impressed. As always."
That made him frown.
Not because of the words.
Because of how she said them.
Not teasing.
Not mocking.
Genuine.
And that, for some reason, felt far more dangerous.
Amitesh leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing at the purple haze that never quite took a shape.
"Yeah?" he said. "That sounds like a problem."
Somewhere in the glow, she laughed again—soft, amused, and just a little too pleased.
"That's because," she whispered, "you're starting to understand me."
He clicked his tongue.
"Or maybe," he said, turning back to his work, "you're just getting predictable."
Another silence.
Then a quiet, almost satisfied reply—
"Let's see how long you can keep thinking that."
Amitesh exhaled slowly, already feeling the headache forming.
"Really, Astraea… do you seriously have this much free time? Just to talk to me?"
The purple light pulsed once, like it was amused.
"Well," she replied, almost lazily, "time doesn't exactly apply to me. I can have as much of it as I want."
A brief pause.
Then, casually—
"Once, I paused your entire dimension because I was busy. Restarted it later when I was free."
Amitesh blinked.
For a second, he said nothing.
'She's saying it like it's normal… like pausing reality is the same as muting a video.'
"Is that even possible?" he asked, slower this time.
"It is."
No hesitation. No exaggeration. Just a simple answer.
"In fact," she added, "I stopped your dimension three days ago. Then resumed it."
Amitesh let out a short, dry laugh.
"You're treating my life like it's some kind of movie."
The response came instantly.
"You volunteered for it."
That made him pause.
His fingers stilled.
"What?"
Silence didn't come this time—just a shift. Subtle, but there.
"I know what you're about to say,"
Astraea continued, her voice softer now. Not playful. Not mocking.
Certain.
"You're going to say you didn't."
Amitesh's jaw tightened.
Because that was exactly what he was about to say.
"But you did," she finished.
A faint hum filled the space, like something unseen settling into place.
"You just don't remember."
Amitesh stared ahead, eyes unfocused.
Not confused.
Not shocked.
Just… thinking.
If she's lying, she's too consistent.
If she's telling the truth…
He clicked his tongue, pushing the thought away before it could root itself.
"Convenient," he said. "Blame it on memory loss. Classic."
A soft laugh echoed again, quieter this time.
"Doubt it all you want."
The purple glow dimmed slightly, like it was leaning back, watching him instead of pressing further.
"It doesn't change anything."
Amitesh didn't respond immediately.
But for the first time—
He didn't dismiss it completely either.
"So, Astraea… or should I say—goddess of luck?"
She cut him off before he could finish.
"Don't." Her voice sharpened, the warmth vanishing. "Don't call me that. Not you."
Amitesh stilled.
Something in her tone wasn't just irritation—it was warning.
"…Alright," he said after a brief pause. "Astraea, then."
He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see through something invisible.
"What exactly are you?" he continued. "And more importantly… why me?"
A faint hum lingered in the silence that followed, like the world itself was waiting for her answer.
"I don't understand," he added, quieter now. "Why would a goddess be so… interested in talking to someone like me?.
Astraea laughed softly.
Not mocking. Not kind, either.
Just… knowing.
"Aww," she said, her voice slipping back into something almost gentle. "My dear, you don't need to understand."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"Some things are better when you simply let them happen."
Amitesh's gaze drifted toward the warehouse.
The guards were rotating shifts.
He glanced at his black watch.
11:23.pm
He watched in silence, tracking movement, counting steps, noting patterns.
If they're following a schedule, this is a lead…
A pause.
But not one I can use tonight.
The incoming guards looked sharper—more alert. Fresh eyes. No fatigue.
Which meant fewer mistakes.
Fewer openings.
His jaw tightened.
Damn it…
"What should I do…"
"Well," Astraea's voice slipped in, casual as ever, "you could try something revolutionary."
A beat.
"Go home."
He didn't respond immediately.
Then, surprisingly—
He turned.
And started walking away.
For once, he agreed.
Behind his calm expression, calculations continued to shift, rearrange, rebuild.
"Hey, Amitesh."
He didn't stop.
"What."
"Can I come into your dreams?"
That made him pause.
He glanced slightly to the side, as if he could actually look at her.
"…That's a strange request."
A faint frown appeared.
"And why are you even asking me?" he added. "Aren't you supposed to be a god? Can't you just do whatever you want?"
A soft chuckle.
"In my own domain, yes," Astraea replied. "Not here."
A brief silence followed.
"This world isn't mine," she continued. "I don't get to act freely in it."
Amitesh resumed walking, slower now.
Processing.
"So that's why…" he murmured, almost to himself.
"I've never heard your name in any myth."
He paused for a moment, weighing his words.
"Well, Astraea… my answer is no."
There was a brief silence.
Then_
"Huh?" Her voice lifted, almost offended. "You don't want to see a beautiful, cute goddess in your lovely dreams?"
Lovely dreams?
Amitesh almost scoffed.
"Yeah," he said flatly. "That makes me want to refuse even more."
"Wow…" she muttered. "You're really saying no?"
"I am," he replied. "I'd rather not see you in my dreams."
A soft sniff echoed in his mind.
Amitesh blinked.
Don't tell me…
"You're so mean," Astraea said, her voice wavering just enough to be suspicious. "Fine. I'm leaving. Don't talk to me."
The purple screen flickered—
—and vanished.
Silence returned.
Amitesh exhaled slowly.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "Now I've managed to upset a goddess."
A pause.
"…No wonder she doesn't want me to reincarnate."