The morning of the eclipse arrived. The sky was a dull, heavy gray, the sun hidden behind thick clouds.
By noon, the streets of South Mumbai were filled with a tense silence.
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the police barricade on Mahatma Gandhi Road. A truck loaded with scrap metal had crashed through the concrete barriers, followed by dozens of Dharavi youths throwing petrol bombs.
"Go! Go!" Rohan screamed, firing his rifle from the back of the truck.
The Malhotra enforcers scrambled, their Aetheric weapons firing blue bolts into the smoke. The street became a warzone. The sounds of shouting, gunfire, and metal clashing echoed through the colonial arches of Colaba.
Vikram moved through the alleys, his shadow-fold active. He was a silent, invisible shadow, slipping past the distracted soldiers.
Behind him, the street kids were holding the line, using their knowledge of the alleys to ambush the corporate forces.
"We're drawing them out!" Rahul reported over the radio, his voice panting as he ran. "The main plaza is thinning. Vikram, make your move!"
Vikram accelerated, his boots pounding the wet pavement as he headed toward the Gateway.