Kadambur, 2002:

  A lone woodcutter trudged along the dirt path skirting the village of Kadambur. As nightfall claimed the horizon, the weight of his two heavy luggage bags and the looming shadows of the forest forced him to seek shelter in the nearest village. He approached a small, dimly lit lodge and asked the woman at the reception for a room.

  With a fixed, eerie smile, the receptionist picked up the telephone and began pressing random digits. The phone didn't ring. There was no dial tone. Yet, she spoke into the receiver: "Hello? We have a visitor."

  The woodcutter frowned, his skin crawling. "Ma'am... the phone didn't even ring."

  Ignoring him, the woman continued to smile, her eyes wide and unblinking. She dialed again, her fingers dancing over the keypad in a nonsensical pattern. "Hello? We have a visitor," she repeated in the same hollow tone.

  "Check the number! Use the manual!" the man urged, pointing to the directory on the desk.

  She followed his gaze, dialed once more, and whispered for the third time: "Hello... we have a visitor."

  Panic flared in the woodcutter's chest. Realizing the village was gripped by something unnatural, he grabbed his bags and bolted. But as he stepped outside, the village had transformed. Every light in every house had been extinguished. The silence was absolute—until he heard the synchronized rhythm of multiple footsteps following him.

  He spun around, heart hammering. "Who's there?"

  No answer. He began to run, the footsteps behind him accelerating. In his blind terror, he tripped over a heavy object and crashed to the ground. Shaking, he flicked on his torch. The beam landed on a desiccated corpse, its skin pale and shriveled, every drop of blood sucked from its veins.

  Bright, predatory eyes ignited in the darkness around him. The footsteps closed in from all sides. The last sound to echo through the Kadambur forest was the woodcutter's scream, abruptly cut short.

  Munnar, The Next Morning:

  The morning air was thick with the weight of departure. Pedro and Subha had finalized their travel arrangements, preparing to head to other Sections of the BLINK Association. Their mission was critical: to trace the goblin infiltrators who might have slipped into the association's higher ranks. Subha, with her heightened sensory capabilities, had memorized the unique, erratic heartbeat pattern of Raksha—a blueprint she could now use to sniff out any mimicry in other cells.

  As the members of Section D gathered to say their goodbyes, Subha turned to Surya with a sharp, instructional gaze. "Rohan will practice according to the schedule I’ve set. His stasis training is progressing, but it needs a watchful eye. You monitor him, Surya."

  "Alright," Surya nodded, but a thought crossed his mind. "What if Chandru insists I abandon that to continue my own training under him?"

  Subha snorted, adjusting her travel bag. "That guy won’t be stepping onto a battleground for at least two weeks. His ribs are cracked from the last encounter. You don’t have to worry about your 'stupid mentor' for a while."

  "Okay... done, Ms. Verge," Surya replied with a smirk.

  As Subha and Pedro disappeared toward the railway station, the remaining students began the trek back to the Section D Headquarters.

  Surya walked alongside Pari, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "Pari, have you noticed? Subha always seems to have this specific hatred toward Chandru. Every time his name comes up, she’s spitting fire."

  Pari sighed, looking at the ground. "Seriously? I didn't notice anything like that..."

  "Come on, Pari. Don't play dumb. Tell me what happened. I promise I won't tell a soul."

  Pari looked at Surya for a long moment before giving in. "I know your promises are worth about as much as a broken sword, but as a friend... I’ll tell you. In addition to myself, Chandru, and Subha, there was another student: Vaishnavi. She is a Devotee Vessel, just like Subha—an Urdhva Pundra—and the granddaughter of Master Jayant."

  "Wait, Guru Pedro’s teacher?" Surya asked, impressed.

  "The same," Pari continued. "She and Chandru joined BLINK together and appeared as a powerful duo. Usually, Urdhva Pundras and Tri-Pundras have been rivals for centuries, but Subha and Vaishnavi were like sisters. Everything was nice... until Vaishnavi suddenly stopped talking to Chandru. She became lonely and withdrawn. One day, she told Guru Pedro she was moving from Section D. Her send-off was heartbreaking for Subha and me, but Chandru didn't even bid her farewell. That happened a year ago."

  "So there were four of you," Surya mused. "Where did she move?"

  "To Section A (Arya)," Pari replied. "Subha believes that Chandru's rejection is what strained their relationship and drove her away. That’s why she has such a specific hatred toward him."

  Surya went silent, processing the information. "I'm sure Chandru is hard. But behind his actions, I believe there is always a meaningful reason."

  Their heavy conversation was interrupted by Rohan, who came running up while clutching a piece of paper. "I’ve done it! I prepared a list of 'Tag Names' for you, Surya. Read them and pick the coolest one!"

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Surya took the list, his face twitching as he scanned the entries. "They are... nice, Rohan. But maybe we can choose later," Surya said, politely trying to dodge the "horrible" options.

  "Why can't you just read them, Rohan?" Pari intervened, a mischievous glint in his eye.

  Rohan cleared his throat and began:

  1.Sun's Son

  2.Solar Tank

  3.Rock Fire

  4.Bad Secret Keeper

  5.Dumb Fist

  6.One Hand Puncher

  7.Camel Poser (A jab at the Ustrasana yoga pose Chandru forced Surya to master)

  "Bad Secret Keeper?" Pari laughed. "Is that even a name?"

  "If it's bad, I'll cross it out!" Rohan said earnestly. Pari pointed at the fifth option, stifling a laugh. "Dumb Fist sounds pretty accurate for you, Surya."

  Surya looked at the paper, then at Rohan’s hopeful, innocent face. He couldn't bring himself to hurt the boy's feelings. "Look, Rohan... I like all of them, but I can't use the whole list. So, I’ll take 'Fire' from Rock Fire and 'Fist' from Dumb Fist, as recommended by our 'leader' here."

  Rohan’s eyes lit up. "Fire... Fist. That’s it! From now on, you are Firefist Surya!"

  Pari grinned, clapping Surya on the back. "That actually sounds decent. We'll start calling you that."

  Just as the laughter settled, they saw Vaishu running toward them, breathless. "Sorry I came late! Did Subha and Guru Pedro leave already?" she asked.

  "They left half an hour ago," Surya replied.

  Vaishu slumped her shoulders. "Oh... I missed saying goodbye."

  "Why were you so late, Vaishu?" Rohan asked, tilting his head.

  "I slept too much," she admitted sheepishly.

  "Maybe you should change your tag name from Wrap to Sleepy," Rohan teased.

  Vaishu's eyes narrowed as she shouted back, "Last night, just for the sake of asking those few questions to Sona, you guys kept me awake all night!"

  Surya and Pari shared a look, struggling to control their smiles. The weight of the morning’s departures seemed to lift, if only for a moment, in the face of their shared exhaustion.

  Back at the Section D Headquarters, the telephone shattered the morning silence. Surya picked up the receiver. "Yes, Section D HQ... When? How often? Understood. Can you confirm the location?...okay..oh...a fax ..noted. we'll be there".

  He hung up and turned to the team, his expression grim. "It’s an emergency. Over the past two weeks, fourteen people have vanished in the forest area between Kadambur and Mettur village. The locals suspect mythic activity and have requested a BLINK sweep. The information about the missing people will be shared in Fax."

  Pari spread a topographical map across the command table. "It’s an eighteen-kilometer stretch of dense forest between those two points. There are no established vehicle paths; we’ll have to go in on foot to check the mythic activity"

  "Let’s go. Why are we waiting?" Chandru said, moving toward the equipment locker.

  Pari stepped in his way, arm extended. "We’re going, Chandru. You’re staying here. Master Pedro explicitly grounded you."

  Chandru glared at him, his jaw set. "It’s a minor injury. I can manage."

  "I know you think you’re invincible, Chandru," Pari countered firmly. "But you have a broken rib. You can barely stand for ten minutes without wincing; you won't survive an eighteen-kilometer trek through rough terrain. Don’t worry—Surya is with us."Surya stepped forward, trying to ease the tension. "Yes, Chandru. I’ll handle everything."

  Chandru looked at Surya, his gaze intense and unreadable. Finally, he exhaled a sharp breath. "Just... don't die."

  Without another word, Chandru turned and walked back toward the infirmary. With the team set, Vaishu, Rohan, Pari, and Firefist Surya gathered their gear and set out for Kadambur to uncover the mystery of the vanishing travelers.

  Chandru stood by the window, his hand instinctively clutching his side where the sharp ache of his fractured rib reminded him of his limitations.

  A rhythmic, metallic clanging suddenly echoed from the sub-levels of the building.

  Chandru descended the stairs to the basement holding a bowl of steaming oatmeal. He approached the reinforced silver-mesh cage where Raksha was currently being held. She was rattling the bars with her shackled hands, her green eyes glowing with restless energy.

  "What's wrong with you?" Chandru asked, his voice echoing in the cold stone room. "Why are you shaking this cage? It’s annoying."

  "Then I’ve succeeded," Raksha replied, her voice a jagged whisper.

  Chandru tightened his grip on the bowl, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. Raksha’s eyes locked onto the ceramic. "What is that in your hand?" she spat. "Another truth serum? A sedative to keep the beast quiet?"

  "It’s oatmeal," Chandru replied simply. "Eat it."

  Raksha curled her lip in disgust, leaning back into the shadows. "You thought I would eat that tasteless human mush? I am a child of the night, Hunter. I crave life—the pulse of blood—not grains and water."

  Chandru didn't argue. He gave a sharp shrug and turned toward the stairs. "Fine. Starve, then."

  "Wait."

  The word stopped him at the first step. The bravado in her voice had wavered, replaced by a raw, hollow hunger she couldn't hide. "Perhaps..." she murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Let me taste it. Just to see how pathetic your fuel is."

  Chandru walked back and slid the bowl through the small feeding slot at the base of the cage. Raksha lunged for it, her long fingers—tipped with darkened, claw-like nails—clutching the warm ceramic with trembling hands. She began to eat, the heat of the food seemingly startling her senses.

  "It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted human food," she muttered between bites.

  "And?" Chandru watched her, his expression unreadable. "How is it?"

  Raksha looked up, a strange, fleeting expression crossing her face. "Better than rotten rats," she shrugged, regaining her edge. She looked him up and down, mocking his posture. "Your suit is nice. When was the last time you washed it? You smell like a hospital."

  "It’s better if you don't speak," Chandru countered.

  "Whatever you say, Mr. Broken Rib," she cackled.

  Chandru’s gaze hardened. "I hit your boss, Heera, to his very core. He was lucky to escape that day. Don't mistake my injury for weakness."

  Raksha let out a dry, mocking laugh. "Ah... you are quite the storyteller, Hunter. You're very good at bluffing."

  Chandru stepped closer to the mesh, his shadow looming over her. "Master Pedro wants you alive for information about the Vamp clan. But understand this: if that decision proves to be a mistake—if you even think about attacking my friends or my people again—your death will be on my hands. And there will be no mercy."

  Raksha opened her mouth to retort, but the words died in her throat. The sheer weight of his conviction hit her like a physical blow. She turned away, her eyes glistening, stubbornly willing back the tears that threatened to fall.

  Chandru turned and ascended the stairs without another word. Raksha watched his silhouette disappear, the distant clatter of the empty bowl the only sound left in the tomb-like basement.

  As the scent of the oats and honey lingered in the cold air, a violent surge of memory struck her.

  She was back in a moonlit garden in Neyveli, years before the tragedy had twisted her soul. She remembered a kind-hearted boy named Aadhi sitting beside her. Back then, she had been disguised as a lost, frightened girl. He had shared his own meal with her—the very same scent of honeyed grains—never suspecting that the girl he was comforting was a goblin spy.

  The weight of the secret pressed against her chest like lead. To the world, and to the man who just left, she was a monster in a cage. But to her, he was the only human who had ever treated her like she was real.