Location: Varanasi – 3 Days Later
The train screamed into Varanasi Junction like a portent too loud to be unnoticed.
Arpan More disembarked first. No entourage. No visible guns. Just a man entering the shade of his own family.
Samruddhi followed, shrouded in a simple cotton shawl, hair bound, eyes sweeping across every passerby as if they held history in their hands.
Behind them, Karishma lost herself in the crowd, a burner phone tucked into one pocket and a crumpled diary page in the other.
Rina's instructions had been simple:
"Come alone. No protection. No lies."
But they carried truth—and that was always the most lethal weapon.
Flashback – Varanasi, 1999
Younger Rina stands with Jai Jadhav on the ghats. Her hand lies on her distended belly.
"I want him born here," she whispers.
Jai smiles. "Then he will be."
They observe the river. Ganga flows softly tonight. Having no idea that this child—Arpan—will come to drown the city in another tide.
Rina's eyes grow dark.
"I want him to change all of it. Even me."
Present – Tulsi Ghat
The three of them stood on the banks of the Ganga.
The moon above was half-swallowed. The eclipse had started.
"This is where your mother was last seen alive," Karishma said, spreading a page from Rina's diary.
"In the river of sin, I washed off my name."
Arpan gazed into the water. "She died here in everyone's eyes. But now she wishes to be born anew in ours."
Footsteps coming behind them.
Three women dressed in saffron robes walked up.
No weapons. No words.
Only a silver key, passed wordlessly to Samruddhi.
A location tag engraved on the metal.
"Shiv Dalan – 84 steps down."
Scene Shift – Shiv Dalan Ruins
Torchlight uncovered a temple long hidden behind political indifference and bureaucratic rot.
Rats scurried. Roots split stone. And in the midst—a solitary throne of black marble.
No god sat here.
Only a woman.
Veiled. Unmoving.
Rina More.
Her voice poured like honeyed venom.
"You came."
Arpan advanced. "You're alive."
"And you," she said, "are unfinished."
Samruddhi reached for her gun.
Rina laughed. "Still so reactionary. You inherited Jai's anger, not his mind."
Samruddhi's eyes blazed.
"Why pretend to die? Why now? Why set us against one another?"
Rina rose.
Her veil fell.
Time had worn her, but not her strength. Her eyes could calm armies.
"Because neither of you was worthy of the crown. Not then. Not yet. I wished to know if you would be more than our transgressions. And now I do."
Arpan's voice, low and deadly: "You destroyed all that was good in us."
"No," Rina said. "I burned away the weakness. So what remains is fire."
Reveal
Rina stepped aside. Behind her—files. Footage. An archive of every secret Devraj More kept buried.
"You think I'm your enemy. But I'm your historian. And this… is your inheritance."
Samruddhi stepped forward. "Why bring us here? Why now?"
Rina's face hardened.
"Because someone worse is coming."
A long pause.
"The children of those Devraj buried. Their fury isn't organized yet. But soon… it will be. And it won't just stop at you. Or me. It will engulf Mumbai."
Arpan breathed, "So this was never about us."
Rina nodded.
"It was about legacy. About who writes the script when the empire falls."
Sudden Attack
A shot.
One of the saffron-clad women fell—headshot.
Sniper.
Samruddhi let out a scream, "Down!"
Karishma yanked her back. Arpan swept Rina up.
Outside—shouting.
Men with black masks pouring into the ruin. Automatic fire. Grenade flashes.
Karishma screamed, "They found us! How?!"
Rina's voice turned steel. "Devraj's vault was breached. They've had my trail for weeks."
Samruddhi returned fire. One of the attackers fell.
Arpan threw a smoke bomb. "There's a tunnel behind the altar!"
They ran. Smoke behind them. Flames at their heels.
Rina stumbled.
Samruddhi clutched her arm. "Move!"
"I can't!" Rina screamed. "Go!"
"NOT LEAVING YOU!"
An explosion struck the ceiling.
Rubble fell.
Darkness.
Final Scene – Underground Tunnel, Bleeding
Somehow they escaped.
Rina covered in blood but alive.
Karishma limping along.
Samruddhi coughing away.
Arpan pulling along the last wounded man who attempted to shoot him.
The tunnel spilled into the ashram's crypts. Safe. Temporarily.
But there were no words.
Only one reality.
They were no longer the hunters.
They were the last defense.
To be continued.