# CHAPTER 14:- WAR DECLARED
A few days ago…
The Central Conference Hall stretched wide, its walls painted in muted shades of brown that gave the space a solemn air.
Rows of seats—maybe a hundred or so—curved upward in ascending tiers, like a silent amphitheater waiting for its audience.
At the front, a long table stood poised for authority, flanked by five high-backed chairs that waited for those who would command the room.
All around, the hall buzzed with movement. Workers scurried across the polished floor, hauling cables, connecting wires, and adjusting microphones. The sharp click of stands locking into place mingled with the soft hum of speakers being tested. The air smelled faintly of fresh paint and static, as if the very walls were bracing for the weight of what was about to come.
Within a few hours, the hall transformed into a hive of urgency. Reporters poured in through the tall double doors, badges swinging from their necks, voices buzzing with anticipation. Each one scrambled to claim their allotted seat, the soft thud of hurried footsteps echoing against the marble floor.
This wasn't just another press briefing. This was the moment—an opportunity to demand answers, to pry open the truth that the world was desperate to hear.
What happened to Kavya Chandan?
And why had the government remained silent for so long?
After some time, the stage doors opened with a soft creak, and Professor Harish Soni stepped into the hall—his presence alone commanding attention.
Following closely behind him were Rakesh and Ananya, their expressions sharp, almost unreadable.
And then—
the atmosphere shifted.
The President, accompanied by the Head of the Black Hole Mission, entered the hall.
Instantly, the bustling chaos died.
Conversations cut mid-sentence.
Chairs stopped creaking.
Every reporter straightened their back, eyes locked forward in complete silence.
The weight of expectation settled like a stone over the room.
An anchor strode onto the stage, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. She paused at the center, standing before the microphone mounted on a sleek silver stand.
Her voice rang clear, carrying authority and anticipation:
"Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the official conference on Mission Black Hole."
She let the words hang for a second, the weight of the name echoing across the silent hall.
"Today, we open the floor to questions—anything you want to know about the mission, its progress… and about Kavya Chandan."
Cameras clicked. Reporters leaned forward, pens poised.
The storm was about to begin.
"First, let me introduce the representatives to you all."
The anchor gestured toward the man seated at the center.
"This is Professor Harish Soni."
He sat upright in a tailored gray suit over a crisp white shirt, his calm demeanor masking the weight of the moment.
Her hand moved to the next two figures.
"Here are the astronauts who accompanied Kavya Chandan—Rakesh and Ananya."
Both of them wore matching black suits over white shirts, their faces tight with the strain of the last few days.
Finally, the anchor's hand swept toward the far end of the table.
"And here," she said with deliberate emphasis,
"is the President and head of the mission, Sir Rom Shaurya."
The man with flowing black hair leaned slightly forward, clad in a black suit over a jet-black shirt, his presence commanding the room without a word.
The atmosphere thickened. Cameras clicked louder. Every reporter sharpened their gaze.
This was the moment they had been waiting for.
"You may begin now."
The anchor stepped aside, leaving the mic and quietly taking a seat beside Ananya.
A heavy silence stretched for a second—then shattered as one of the male reporters shot up from his chair, voice sharp with urgency.
"As we know, a black hole is one of the most dangerous phenomena in the universe. So my question is to the head of this mission—why was this mission even initiated?"
All eyes shifted to Rom Shaurya.
The man didn't rush. He sat back in his chair, posture relaxed, eyes calm, almost unreadable. Then, in a voice steady as steel, he replied:
"This question exists in the mind of anyone who's ever been curious about space. What's on the other side of a black hole?"
He paused briefly, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"But let me make this clear—we never planned to enter the black hole. Our objective was to approach, observe, and collect data from a safe distance. Unfortunately, the gravitational pull proved stronger than anticipated. Kavya's spacecraft… was dragged in."
The first reporter lowered himself back into his seat. Almost immediately, a woman in the second row shot up, voice cutting through the tense silence.
"So… is Kavya dead?"
The hall seemed to freeze at her blunt question. Cameras clicked in rapid succession, microphones craned forward.
Rom didn't flinch. He kept his hands folded neatly on the table, his tone calm, steady—almost unnervingly composed.
"The gravitational pull of a black hole is… absolute. According to every scientific principle we know, nothing that crosses the event horizon can survive. Matter is torn apart at the subatomic level."
He paused, his eyes flicking briefly toward the cameras before returning to the crowd.
"If Kavya entered that zone… then yes, the probability of survival is near zero."
A ripple of murmurs swept through the hall. Some reporters exchanged glances, others scribbled furiously on their notepads.
The same reporter didn't sit down. His voice rose, sharp and accusing this time:
"So… will you all take the blame for this? For her death?"
A hush fell over the hall. Dozens of cameras clicked, flashes sparking like lightning.
Professor Harish Soni leaned toward the mic, his voice calm—measured, but firm.
"If you recall the terms we made public before the mission began, it was clearly stated—participation was voluntary. We did not, at any point, force Kavya to go."
He took a breath, his eyes softening slightly.
"What happened… is deeply tragic. Kavya was one of the most talented astronauts we've ever worked with. Her courage was extraordinary. We extend our deepest condolences to her family, and to everyone who admired her."
His tone shifted, quiet but resolute.
"But even at the last stage—when the pull of the black hole was impossible to resist—she fought. She tried. That was her spirit."
Murmurs filled the hall again, the tension thicker than before.
A male reporter in the back row stood up.
"So… did you do all this just to get famous?"
Professor Harish Soni's fist clenched under the table—but before he could speak, Rom placed a steady hand over his and leaned toward the mic.
"If that were true," Rom said calmly, "why didn't we announce prize money? Why didn't we tempt more people to risk their lives, hmm?"
The reporter's gaze dropped. He sank back into his seat without another word.
As the conference continued, a barrage of questions filled the hall—most of them centered on the spacecraft's design and the specifications of Kavya's astronaut suit.
Meanwhile…
Maxi's team tore through the sky, boosters roaring as they pursued the two Peace operatives carrying Kavya. The chase was relentless, the wind howling past their ears.
Up ahead, Hanza suddenly tilted his head toward the road below, signaling Kavy with a quick gesture. Without hesitation, both men angled downward, leaning sharply as their boosters hissed with raw thrust.
Maxi caught the move and mirrored it instantly, his group diving in pursuit. The gap closed fast, the city lights streaking beneath them like rivers of fire.
Then—Hanza made his move.
With a flick of his wrist, a small metallic orb slipped from his fingers, plummeting toward the asphalt. The moment it struck—
BOOM!
A thick cloud of smoke erupted, engulfing the street in an impenetrable shroud. Maxi's eyes widened, his teeth clenched as his boosters cut hard, halting his momentum.
His gaze darted left.
Then right.
Shapes flickered in the haze. Shadows danced.
But when the smoke finally began to clear, reality hit like a blade—
They were gone.
Hanza. Kavy. Kavya.
Vanished without a trace.
Maxi swung his arm, slicing through the smoke.
His glowing blue eyes glared into the empty street.
"Damn it…" he muttered, voice low and lethal.
Maxi's jaw tightened as the smoke thinned. He ground the canister beneath his boot with a sharp crunch.
"They're playing games with me…"
Sliding a hand into his coat pocket, he pulled out a sleek comm device. The faint blue glow lit up his face as he spoke—calm, controlled… lethal.
His eyes hardened, a glint of fire in their blue glow.
"Tell HQ…"
A slow smirk tugged at his lips as his voice cut cold.
"PEACE just declared war."