66| The final reckoning.
And the massive clock at the centre doesn't just bleed.
It announces the death of a legacy.
The music dies.
No warning. No fade.
One second it breathes...
the next, it's dead.
The silence that follows isn't empty.
It's waiting.
The dancers freeze mid-step.
Hands still hovering inches from their partners. Heels paused above dark marble.
But the light doesn't settle.
A sharp pulse runs through the chandeliers.
Dim.
Bright.
Dim again.
Muffled whispers fill the air.
Tara, having caught a glimpse of Aashika within the labyrinth of mirrors, forgets to breathe.
Her eyes dart around, trying to find Aashika's clue.
That's when she sees him.
Not clearly.
Just the outline.
Her pulse drums in her ears, louder than the clock ever was.
Deep within the maze, three mirrors down to the left, a tall silhouette moves. Cloaked in a deep obsidian suit. The predatory tilt of the head. Shoulders she would recognize even in death.
Cold sweat traces her spine.
"Aayansh?"
She doesn't think. She cannot afford to. In this house of a thousand lies, his presence is the only truth she has left.
Tara lunges into the maze.
Her silk gown hisses against the marble floor. She rounds the first glass partition. The red light plays tricks on her eyes; every time she turns a corner, a dozen versions of the same shadow retreat further into the gloom.
She doesn't stop.
"Aayansh... wait!"
He doesn't turn.
He begins to walk.
Not fast. Not slow.
Like he knows she will follow.
And she does.
Without thinking.
Without waiting.
Without questioning.
Because love is the most dangerous blindfold of all.
Her heels echo softly as she steps deeper into the maze. The guests remain frozen behind her, uncertain whether to move or survive.
The lights flicker again.
His shadow stretches unnaturally long across the mirrored walls.
For a second-it splits.
Two silhouettes instead of one.
But when she blinks, it's normal again.
She moves faster.
"Aayansh..."
No answer.
He turns the corner.
She follows.
And the maze closes in.
The air turns metallic.
Somewhere beneath the silence, something activates.
The red glow deepens.
Her reflection begins to multiply, faster now. Not two. Not ten.
Hundreds.
And every reflection is a second behind her real movement.
Her heart pounds.
Something clicks in her mind.
She freezes.
So does the man in front of her... too perfectly.
The mirrors around her shift.
Panels sliding.
Walls locking.
Through a two-way mirror... a pair of eyes, a shadow watches her trapped.
And this trap isn't meant to kill her. Not yet. It's meant to isolate her.
A slow, wicked smile forms on that shadow's lips.
Tara snarls Aayansh's name.
She hitches the obsidian silk of her gown, her movements jagged, ready to tear through the distance between them.
That's when he turns.
It isn't a sudden movement... It is a slow, deliberate rotation.
When he finally faces her, she exhales the breath she's been holding onto, meeting with a gaze of those dark blue eyes... hauntingly identical.
Aayansh.
His face is emotionless.
"Don't move," He says, his voice cold, gesturing a hand for her to stop right there.
Yet, Tara steps forward, the space between evaporating as she reaches for him, her voice a desperate rasp.
"Why are you-"
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Her world fractures.
Three ruthless gunshots ring in her ears, tearing through Aayansh's chest in brutal, rhythmic succession.
Color drains from his face.
The impact is merciless.
The force jerks his frame.
Bullets ripping through the fabric of his suit.
He stumbles back.
Crimson blooms across his chest.
Tara, standing a few steps away, her eyes widen in horror. Pure, paralyzed shock.
Her outstretched hand hovering in the air as if she could catch the bullets.
What she doesn't realise-
The maze is shut, sealing her.
Tara's vision blurs with tears, but she doesn't look away. How can she?
The man she loves to death... he's losing blood.
Losing steadiness.
Losing air.
And still trying to stand.
But the second Aayansh's knees buckle, she moves to hold him, when-
A muscular arm hooks around her stomach, jerking her back until she's slammed against something hard, her bare back colliding with the rigid tux fabric.
"Let me go! My... my Aayansh... he's bleeding."
She thrashes, hissing like a wounded tigress, her body twisting to pull free, her face drenched in tears.
The grip on her doesn't tighten, it doesn't need to, not even when she fights it with everything.
But all her protests, all the bone-deep fierceness dies in an instant as his hot, steady breath brushes the shell of her ear.
"Shh-" He whispers darkly, the hand holding the gun lowers slowly, tracing a deliberate path just above her stomach.
"Stop mourning a lie, princess."
And it was a warning.
?
Somewhere beyond the labyrinth, a storm is already beginning to move.
She knew this would happen.
Not how. Not when.
But Tara was the target the moment the night began bending the wrong way.
And now she's nowhere to be found.
Aashika doesn't wait for the music to return, doesn't wait for the chaos to settle.
She moves.
Sharp. Certain.
Guests shrink back, unsure whether to scream or pray.
Aashika cuts through them like a certainty tearing through a haze of lies.
Her gaze locks onto the dark corridors flanking the maze. Three Men are departing like haunting shadows. Every instinct she owns screams that these aren't guests. They're predators. Here to deliver the damage.
They stop.
Their eyes land on Aashika, the air between them curdles with suspicion.
One of them raises his weapon, the cold steel of its barrel pointing directly at Aashika's forehead.
"Cosa ci fai qui, donna?" The question is a low, guttural snarl.
|What are you doing here, woman?|
Aashika doesn't flinch.
She doesn't retreat.
Her fists are clenched white at her sides, her eyes a void.
And her silence... it's more terrifying than their threat.
"Non sprecare il vantaggio. è solo una donna fragile e sola. Non è una minaccia per noi." the other man scoffs, gesturing them forward without looking back.
|Don't waste the lead. She's just a fragile, lone woman. Not a threat.|
The other two let out an insulting chuckle.
The sound itself claws at Aashika's pride.
Before the laughter can even leave their throats, Aashika's leg shoots out. A high, whiplash arc, her heel slam against the lead man's wrist. Bone-shattering.
The force is so absolute that the gun is wrenched from his grip before his brain can even register the pain, clattering across the marble like a discarded toy.
Their smirks vanish.
"Puttana..." one of them spits, eyes burning with a humiliated rage.
|Bitch|
They don't just move.
They lunge at her with bare hands.
But Aashika?
In a flash of movement.
Her palm slams into the first man's chin. Snapping his head back.
Dazing him just enough for her to seize the nape of his neck-
Her knee smashes onto his nose.
A brutal explosion.
Crack!
His vision tunnels, breath choking with the jerk before he crumples.
She doesn't even wait.
Pivoting on one foot, Aashika drives the needle-sharp stiletto of her sandal into the other man's thigh.
A scream rips through his throat.
He twists violently against her grip and crashes his fist into her left knee.
Pain sparks up Aashika's leg.
Her step falters... knee nearly giving out.
But he buckles first.
She grabs the chance.
Her other knee rams into his temple.
A heavy thud that sends him spiraling back until he crashes into the mirror wall.
Standing at the mouth of the corridor, Aashika's eyes drop to the blood staining her knuckles. Her breathing is heavy. Eyes dark as she steadies herself.
The third brute-the one who had labelled her fragile, lone woman-stays paralyzed.
A whimpering sound escapes his throat as he backs away.
Desperate and clumsy, he tries to crouch back toward the gun lying on the floor.
Aashika doesn't bother stopping him.
She cracks her blood-slicked knuckles.
Then, lets her eyes linger on his terrified form, bored. "Trembling before a fragile-lone woman, Hmm?"
A few steps away, a figure stands perfectly still. Not hiding. Just simply there. A faint glint of amusement dances in his eyes.
An unmistakable admiration.
The air around him doesn't just settle. It commands.
The second Arsh notices that man's fingers nearing the cold steel of the gun, aiming to target Aashika in a cowardly act of defiance, he reacts.
In one seamless motion, he draws his weapon from his waistband and bridges the distance.
But he doesn't shoot.
Sensing the presence, Aashika's eyes flick to him.
"AJ?" She murmurs, brows pulling together.
Without a word, Arsh turns the weapon in his hand, offering the grip of his gun to Aashika. "Finish this coward."
Aashika's eyes lower to the gun, a cold flicker of disdain crossing her features, before settling back on Arsh.
She doesn't reach for the weapon.
With a chillingly calm motion, she reaches down. Her fingers hook into the silk strap of her remaining sandal, sliding it off her foot without breaking eye contact with Arsh.
Thick blood slicking her bare feet.
Then-
A flick of her wrist that's both practiced and sickening, she hurls the sandal at the man.
The shoe slices through the air like a blade.
A wet crack splits.
The man, scrambling for his gun on the floor, can barely look up before the needle-sharp, metallic heel buries itself deep into the hollow of his throat.
Even fear didn't get time to inhale.
His hand thrashes, gun slips once again.
A gurgling sound escapes his lips as he clutches at the heel jutting from his neck, his eyes wide with horror.
Silence.
Aashika doesn't even look at his dying form. She keeps her gaze fixed on Arsh, her chin tilted up, standing barefoot on the cold marble amidst the blood of three men.
Chandelier light cascades over them.
"Brain is the deadliest weapon anyone can carry" she finally says, her voice low, absolute.
Arsh doesn't move, amused, tasting the sheer audacity of her words.
But before he can holster his weapon, Aashika's hand snaps around his forearm, pulling him toward her with a sudden jerk.
Arsh doesn't fight the momentum. He crashes into her space, his gaze sharpening as he hears the shriek of glass behind him.
A heavy shard from the mirrored pillar shears off, slamming into the exact spot where he had been standing.
If she had not pulled him, the glass would have buried itself in his skull.
Arsh doesn't look at the wreckage.
He looks down at Aashika's fingers around his tricep.
"Your brother," He murmurs, a smirk twitching his lips. "He wouldn't like you holding me like this." He tucks his gun back without breaking eye-contact.
Something in Aashika's expression shifts.
She rips her hand away, her voice turning urgent.
"Aayansh," she slithers, the name escaping her lips like a warning. "He's been caged somewhere in this hellhole. I have to get to him."
Arsh's amusement vanishes. "You know your brother better than anyone," he says, his voice firm now. "And you believe anyone can cage him?"
"Not anyone, but-" Aashika cuts in.
"Your grandfather, I know." Arsh interrupts.
Aashika's gaze hardens into a blade.
But there's no space left for interrogation.
Arsh continues, "It was all Aayansh's plan. I don't know everything. But one thing is clear, he's playing a dangerous game."
The air leaves Aashika's lungs.
The realisation hits.
Her brother... wasn't caged?
The man imprisoned by Hriday, the one she believed was Aayansh, had been nothing but his double.
"So..." she murmurs under her breath, suddenly alert. "the man at the party... That was Aayansh? But Tara-"
Arsh's gaze turns ice-cold. "Tara-what?"
Aashika lifts her eyes to his, "She's the target, AJ.
This isn't just about a trap. He (Hriday) wants to slaughter her and me right in front of Aayansh's eyes.
And she's..." Her voice fractures. "She's missing.
"
"So clever... warrior Princess.
"
The words bleed through the mirrored walls, distorted, chillingly close.
The movement is instinctive.
Aashika and Arsh's heads whip toward the echo.
..
Hriday's shadow stretches across the marble long before he does.
Hands behind his back. Eyes on the bodies with a thin, creepy smile.
Aashika's eyes darken.
Arsh, however, remains calm.
Hriday slowly lowers his gaze, trailing off red to Aashika's bare feet, the blood between her toes, then back at the body with the metal heel in its throat.
"A Warrior Princess indeed," he muses, his tone dripping with mock reverence.
His eyes settle on hers, "You guessed the game.
But-Too late. Too wrong."
Aashika remains motionless, though her blood thrums with a violence she can barely contain.
"Your sister-in-law, that innocent little girl?
"
Hriday takes another step forward, his voice resounding.
"She chased the illusion of Love I spun.
And innocent hearts... always find their way to my cage," His creepy smile stretches.
"Just like your mother, my daughter once did.
"
Aashika's jaw pulsates so hard it hurts.
Control.
"And my grandson?"
He stops, his pale, aged eyes glinting with a cruel mirth. "He's indeed a king. He hijacked the double I made. Met me as his own shadow. Won small battles."
The chandelier light turns his grey hair into a halo of cold ash.
While Aashika?
She isn't surprised. She's vindicated. His words don't reveal the truth.
They just... finalize it.
Hriday exhales, the sound almost gentle, as if this is the part he's been waiting for.
"I built the double. Your brother rewrote the hunt." He pauses, his gaze drifting through the blood-stained mirrors. "He sent that innocent girl (Tara), but himself never appeared."
"Cowardly, isn't it?"
"Cowards hide and run," Aashika shoots back, her eyes boring into Hriday's. "Like you."
Hriday remains silent, the same creepy calm settling deeper into his features.
But then-
The air turns suffocating.
Not with the smell of blood.
But disbelief.
Betrayal.
Aashika's mind spirals as Hriday's previous words echo inside her head.
'Himself never appeared'.
Then, who was present at the party as Aayansh?
And Tara? She's caged.
Where is Aayansh?
If he planned this... why is Tara the one trapped?
Hundreds of questions.
For the first time, her trust in Aayansh doesn't just bend. It almost breaks. Almost.
A part of her whispers to give in.
The rest demands blood... Justice for her mother.
Even if she stands alone in the slaughter.
Even if Aayansh never comes, leaves her there to bleed.
For one fragile second, even the mirrors hold their breath.
But this war?
It's not meant to end like this.
"Now," Hriday's voice cuts through the silence, sadistically calm. "It's time to end this hide seek."
"Your life, and the life of his Queen... They are the final prices to be paid."
Aashika meets Hriday's gaze like a lone, starving tigress. No fear left, only hunger. Whatever hurt he caused has already burned away.
To save Tara, she would have to do the unthinkable... walk willingly into Hriday's cage.
Slowly, Aashika tilts her head toward Arsh. He says nothing. The storm in his eyes speaks enough... lethal, unreadable, devastatingly calm. Their gazes lock, a silent understanding passing between them like two predators recognising the hunt.
Carnage is inevitable.
The victims aren't.
?
Aaryan Oberoi.
Rithvik Oberoi.
Vidyut Dhanrajgir.
Aaryan's eyes scan the maze like a wolf reading the herd. "Indeed a hellhole-" He rasps, glancing at Vidyut, "I won't be playing second after this bloodshed. The throne is mine."
Rithvik's head dips slightly, a cold, knowing darkness glinting in his eyes.
While Vidyut?
His gaze remains lost.
Twenty-four hours ago...
Unveiling the past to Aashika, nudging Aaryan and Rithvik exactly where Hriday wanted them...
Vidyut, thinking he's finished his role, was going to fly to Rome.
In a private casino, he was sipping whiskey like this wasn't his last night in India.
Too much alcohol.
His heartbeat grew uneven.
The background sounds blurred.
He looked up...
And froze.
Someone was seated opposite him. Dark eyes. Head slightly tilted. Broad frame relaxed against the sofa, face emotionless as he watched Vidyut's terrified demeanor.
Vidyut blinked. Once. Twice.
The blur cleared just slightly-
The face became clear.
Blood drained from Vidyut's features.
The glass shook.
Slipped.
And fell.
Aayansh Oberoi.
Then-nothing.
Everything after that moment was gone from Vidyut's memory.
He was meant to board a flight to Rome. Instead, he hung from the ceiling of Aayansh's jet, face hidden, limbs immobilized, suspended in cruel precision. Alive. Breathing. Frozen.
A human form contorted into dark art.
In that condition, electric jolts raked through him. Again. Again. His heart almost faltered under the assault.
Aayansh wanted it.
The pain.
His. Anyone's.
Hours later, Vidyut awoke in a hotel in Rome. His body felt hollow, drained of life, barely his own.
He still doesn't know anything...
No clue what's yet to come, either.
As Vidyut descends the stairs, his limbs are heavy. Even now, his skin crawls with the ghost of those electric jolts from the jet ceiling.
Somewhere inside his skull, lingering a mouth organ's notes. Haunting. Chilling.
Aaryan and Rithvik, however, are composed, patient and dangerous.
And then?
Their phones vibrate at once.
A single notification.
Aaryan and Rithvik exchange a sharp glance, then their eyes drop to their phones. Vidyut does the same.
The text: Don't keep the carnage waiting. Turn left at the chandelier. Follow the red glow. Someone's starving for blood, remember.
Air thickens around them.
The blood to be spilled... must be Hriday's.
Yet the message is a chain they cannot break. They step forward, each movement echoing in the glassy abyss.
?
The corridor doesn't echo.
It listens.
Dark-mirrored walls stretch endlessly on either side.
Aashika walks first.
Barefoot.
Each step leaves a faint red imprint against the marble. Not dragged. Not forced.
But she isn't alone.
Six guns press into the air around them. Two at her spine. One at Arsh's temple. The rest are angled with surgical precision by Hriday's men.
Both Arsh and Aashika don't resist.
They don't raise their hands either.
Walking like a tigress and the storm behind her, while Hriday's men escort them toward the cage where Tara is.
Hriday isn't here. Not yet.
Minutes later, the red glow thickens ahead. Aashika and Arsh walk in step, not touching, yet impossibly aligned.
Slowly-very carefully-Aashika's hand drifts back.
Arsh instantly recognises the movement. He doesn't interfere.
Her fingers slip beneath the edge of his waistband, closing around cold steel.
In one smooth motion, she draws Arsh's gun free, keeping it shielded between their bodies.
He lets her take it.
The men around them don't notice.
Yet.
Aashika keeps her eyes forward, voice low enough that only he can hear.
"Inside," she mutters, "you take Tara. You don't wait for me."
The gun rests concealed along her thigh now.
"An order?" Arsh murmurs, his eyes dropping to her profile.
A beat.
"If you heard it as one-" Aashika's gaze stays unmoving. "you heard right."
"I don't take orders."
Arsh's gaze sharpens. "Tara will walk out of here safe."
A quieter pause.
"And so will you."
Her jaw tightens.
Another step ahead.
"Don't. Step. In my path."
Her voice drops to something lethal.
Arsh stays calm.
"Your revenge is yours. I won't interfere, but-"
"Silenzio. La gabbia vi aspetta."
(Silence. The cage is waiting for you.)
A man spits between them.
They all halt.
Aashika's gaze finds Arsh.
His mouth tilts.
Finally.
And the next second-
Arsh slams his skull back into the nose of the man behind.
Cartilage crunches.
Barking curses, others instantly lunge with their guns-
Aashika takes the chance, drops low. Lower than the guns can aim.
Gunfire rains above her head. Relentless. Routine.
She slides across the marble, palm skidding hard against the cold surface, body flattening beneath the line of fire.
Her arm snaps upward mid-slide.
Thud.
One precise shot.
The bullet punches clean through a wrist.
Bone splinters.
A gun clatters.
Arsh catches the falling weapon mid-air without looking.
Not a second wasted.
Gunfire fills the corridor. Bodies' drop.
Blood spreads slow and dark.
Both Aashika and Arsh-
They're fluent in carnage.
A man charges Aashika instead of firing. Smart. Too close for aim.
He crouches to fist his hand in her hair and wrench her back.
Big mistake.
She never tolerates anyone's hands getting on her-not until she allows it.
The moment he dips within reach, Aashika's forehead slams into his chin.
His teeth snap shut on tongue.
Before the pain can register-
Her knee drives up.
Straight into his groin.
Air leaves him in a broken gasp.
As he folds, she traps his arm mid-fall, pivots on her heel-
Twists.
A sickening crack.
His scream never fully forms.
She lets him drop.
Satisfied. Maybe.
Arsh ducks as bullets whistle past him.
His eyes track Aashika for a heartbeat longer than necessary. A silent confirmation. She's alright.
He closes distance instead of retreating.
Elbow to throat.
Gun jammed under ribcage.
Muted shot.
Aashika rises just as a shadow barrels toward her from the left.
She doesn't fire.
Grip tightening on the barrel.
Waiting.
Last second.
She sidesteps.
The man crashes into the mirrored wall.
Arsh shoots the reflection.
And surprisingly-the real one falls.
For a split second, silence.
Then-
Click.
Empty chamber.
Aashika's gun is dry.
One of the remaining men notices.
A wicked smile.
He raises his weapon.
Aiming straight at her-
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Four rapid shots.
Arsh sees it-too far.
And smirks.
Because he knows her.
In that same heartbeat-
Aashika's hand fists into the collar of the half-conscious man at her feet, yanking him upright with brutal force. The bullets slam into him instead.
Impact after impact.
His body jerks violently in her grip as rounds tear through his chest. Warm blood splashes across her face.
She doesn't blink.
The night feeds its own.
When the firing stops, the man in her hands is nothing but weight.
The corpse drops.
She doesn't run.
She hurls the empty gun.
It hits his temple hard enough to stagger him- the man who aimed at her.
Arsh reaches him in two strides-
Grabs his collar.
Smashes his face into the marble.
Once.
Twice.
Doesn't need a third.
Breathing faint.
Broken glass crunches under their boots.
Aashika straightens slowly.
Her muscles ache. Her hunger-just sharpens.
Blood streaks her jaw-hot-too hot against the deadly chill of the marble beneath her feet, the only thing reminding her she's still breathing.
Her bare feet leave red crescents.
One last man remains.
He's shaking.
Gun wavering between them.
The man fires.
Arsh shoves Aashika aside.
The bullet grazes his arm.
Her head snaps toward him- Eyes wide.
Arsh doesn't even hiss.
He raises the gun.
One shot.
Dead center.
Silence drops like a curtain.
Smoke curls.
Aashika's gaze stays at the thin line of blood sliding down his arm.
"You need to cover it."
Arsh's gaze finds hers.
"Concerned. Are you?"
Aashika shakes her head.
No words. No hesitation
Only forward-into the maze.
Arsh watches her walk away.
Cold gaze. Slower breath.
Then he follows.
Not for revenge.
Not for anything.
Only for Tara.
Within seconds, they vanish inside.
Moments later. Three more predators enter the maze. Vidyut. Aaryan. Rithvik.
In the heart of all, Tara stands.
Quiet. Unreadable.
Like the calm before someone decides who dies tonight.
The mirrored walls reflect her form into infinity. The red glow drips over her like war paint.
That's when the sound of leather soles against marble announces him before he does.
Footsteps. Slow. Dangerous.
She doesn't move.
The silence around her thickens.
And then-
She only lifts her chin slightly.
The shadow stops.
Hriday's gaze drops to the body lying near Tara's feet. The man she had followed-unknowingly-into this maze.
Lucifer Kael.
Aayansh's double.
Hriday's bait.
Tara's fingers still.
Just enough for him to wonder if she will surrender.
Deliberately, she bends. Slow. Measured.
Her fingers close around the strap of her sandal. She pulls. The gun slides into her palm.
Hriday's gaze shifts.
From the gun in Tara's hand.
To Lucifer's body.
Chest torn open.
Blood and shattered flesh spreading across.
A knowing smile curves Tara's lips.
Hriday had expected fear.
Trembling hands. The broken softness he had crushed in Aaina.
...In her last moments.
But Tara?
She isn't a princess tonight.
What stands before him is ruin. Reckoning. Damnation made flesh.
"Hmm."
Hriday's voice drops softer. "I expected fear." His smile barely reaches his eyes. "But... you disappointed."
Before another second can breathe-
a mirror explodes.
Glass detonates outward in a brutal bloom.
...and through the shattered reflection, three figures are thrown.
Aaryan. Rithvik. Vidyut.
Aaryan crawls in.
Writhing.
Dragging himself through his own coughed blood.
His collar is soaked black.
His arm hangs wrong.
Rithvik crashes in after him. He doesn't even land on his feet. He hits shoulder-first, bone snapping audibly as he rolls.
A choked scream splinters against a hundred mirrored walls.
Vidyut collapses last.
Still conscious.
Barely breathing.
Trembling.
Tara's gaze remains on them.
No sympathy.
No horror.
Beside her, Hriday's expression darkens.
Alert now. Sharp.
Because he understands something.
Dead silence falls.
But then-
Footsteps.
Not heels.
Bare feet.
Aashika.
Blood pools across the marble, flowing toward her feet.
Closer.
And closer to her blood-slicked feet.
Her eyes go straight to the three men.
She freezes.
Not at anything.
But at Tara.
At the gun resting steadily in her hand.
As if she is looking at a stranger.
Her eyes don't move to Lucifer's body.
Arsh stands behind her.
Equally stunned. Equally silent.
Even when Tara's eyes fall on Arsh, she does not move.
But Arsh moves, straight toward his sister.
Aashika's hand closes around his wrist before he can reach Tara.
Her gaze remains fixed on Tara.
Not fear.
Warning.
As if she has sensed something darker approaching.
Everything stills for a long moment.
Aaryan. Rithvik. Vidyut's choking breaths.
And at that moment-Aashika looks at Hriday.
The only monster worth killing.
The one who had torn her mother apart.
Mind.
Body.
And everything she had been.
There are no weapons here.
No guns.
Just mirrors.
Just breathing bodies pretending they are still human.
The memories still bleeding inside her. The nightmare that has never ended.
Her mother's blood. Long dried. Never forgotten by her skin.
"You made her life hell."
She steps closer.
Voice dry. Hollow.
"You ruined her. Broke her."
Another step, blood drips her knuckles.
"She bled tears."
A pause.
"Before me. I couldn't save her. I was a child."
She tilts her head. That predatory, inhuman tilt- the way one does when asking a monster to remember its sins.
"Haina, Nanu?"
'Nanu.'
The word lingers like a curse.
Aashika doesn't stop. "She was innocent."
Hriday does not respond.
His lips curve.
The smile does not reach his eyes.
His pupils do not move.
And his next words chills the air itself.
"You're innocent too, my child." He tucks his hands behind his back, remembering all his sins. "You will learn what it means to be ruined soon enough."
Aashika stops.
A sadistic calm replaces whatever humanity was left in her eyes.
"I will."
"with your blood."
With this, she walks toward Tara.
Stands beside her.
Like something equally dangerous.
Hriday's gaze narrows.
Aaryan gasps Aashika's name.
Arsh stays still.
And Tara?
She holds Aashika's hand.
Not gently.
Not warmly.
But with certainty.
And then-
Something happens.
The air chills.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
The red glow shifts.
Slowly.
Hriday's eyes snag on the reflections in every mirror.
His head turns.
Once.
Twice.
Trying to decide if he is facing reality.
Or death wearing someone's face.
Something inside him goes very quiet.
In every reflection-He sees him.
Aayansh Oberoi.
Sitting there. Watching. Head tilted. Legs slightly parted. Eyes colder than death itself. Face emotionless.
He is everywhere.
And nowhere.
His fingers toying with the gun in his hand. His presence detached from humanity.
Only then-
Hriday realizes.
The maze was never his.
It was always Aayansh's hunting ground.
No one breathes.
Aaryan. Rithvik. Vidyut.
Still.
Broken.
Alive only in their breathing.
Arsh stands with an expression that gives nothing away.
Hriday is disoriented.
For the first time in his life, control slips.
But his face remains carved from stone.
Even as fear begins to whisper inside him.
In the reflections, Aayansh moves.
Unhurried.
Without standing, without even looking at the weapon, his wrist flicks.
No one understands which reflection is real.
Then, a metallic clink breaks the silence.
The gun slides across the blood-slicked marble. Spinning. Hissing until the grip knocks against Hriday's shoe.
No one moves.
Even time feels hesitant.
Aayansh leans back, tilted head, eyes patiently fixed on Hriday, like he has all the time in the world to watch Hriday understand what is coming.
"You wanted to kill them before my eyes."
| Them = Tara and Aashika |
His voice echoes from the glass.
A whisper so calm, so chilling it suffocates the air itself.
"I'm here. They're here."
Silence.
"Go ahead."