It wasn't just the system Rudra didn't get. It was the absurdity of who built it.
An Asura supposed to be some ash smeared mystic, eating out of skulls and meditating beside funeral pyres had wired a metaphysical operating system into his damn soul?
A HUD in his brain, memory packets like downloadables, a cursor that moved with a thought?
It didn't sit right.
Something doesn't add up here, he noted silently.
But before he could unravel the logic or the magic of it, the memory pulled him under again.
Laughter. Not his. Kanika's.
The kind of laugh that could uncoil your spine sharp, radiant, unapologetically alive. Danny Rudra was back inside the stream. In Danny's skin. Amit groaned beside him, defeated by her wit yet again.
"And Grandpa, you're paying for the Mango Frooti," she teased, elbowing Amit with a grin.
"Huh... Me?" he pointed at himself like she'd insulted his lineage.
"I don't see any other grandpa here," Danny smirked.
They burst out laughing. Amit just muttered curses as the trio strolled down the buzzing lane of Scaredford like they owned it.
This was the moment before the storm. It felt too easy. Too warm. Too... alive.
They ducked into Ramu Chat Bhandar, a glorified tin box sweating cumin, oil, and nostalgia. The scent was thick. The heat worse.
"Three special poha," Danny called out, tapping the warped wood of the stall counter. "Extra onions, lemon, and bhujia."
"Patience, beta. I've just arrived," Ramu Kaka grunted, squinting as he rearranged steel containers, kerosene stove, and steel plates like sacred relics.
"How long, Kaka?" Amit groaned.
"Ten minutes. Or go pester Bhola."(For some reason, Ramu Kaka always seemed extra irritated around Amit.)
"No loyalty in this world," Amit sighed, flopping onto a plastic stool.
Kanika leaned casually against the wall, her peacock blue dupatta catching streaks of light like a flag mid flight.
"So you're really from Mumbai?" Amit asked, toeing a pebble.
"Born and raised. Dad's transfer brought us back here last week. "She gestured to the old bazaar. "This is technically my hometown though. Irony, huh?"
"You seemed a bit extra nervous back at Rajat Uncle café. May I ask why?" Danny chimed in.
"I want to do MBBS and become a doctor, Danny. And becoming a doctor isn't easy, as you know."
"MBBS, huh? But why medicine? There are a lot of career opportunities."
She nodded. Smile faded slightly.
"Yeah."
Her voice lowered, honest now.
"When I was ten, my mum died. She had a hole in her heart. A congenital heart defect. We went from hospital to hospital in search of a good heart surgeon... but none had a specialist on call. And those who did were too expensive."
"Dad kept reassuring us, 'Wait, dear. We'll find someone.' And while we waited... she died."
No theatrics. Just clean, sharp pain.
"So I promised myself I'd be the doctor no one has to wait for. A heart surgeon that saves people like my mum."
Danny didn't say anything. Neither did Amit. It wasn't the silence of awkwardness it was respect.
"That's heavy," Amit finally whispered. "I mean... wow."
"So what about you two?" she asked, pulling the mood back up. "What's the big plan for you guys?"
Danny coughed and straightened his shoulders.
"SSC CGL. Ministry of External Affairs."
"Diplomat?" she raised an eyebrow. "Big ambition. Let's turn the table or as Gen Z calls it, UNO reverse. Why MEA, Mr. Danny?"
"I have big reasons, just like you do."
"Like?"
"Like getting my mother out of hell. "His tone was flat, final. "She deserves better than Mayapuri chawl. After Dad passed, everything fell on me."
There was a strange pain on Danny's face Kanika couldn't quite read. She changed the topic to spare him further agony.
Amit leaned forward, patting Danny's shoulder with mock pride.
"He's emotional because he thinks he's James Bond. One posting in Russia and he'll be freezing in some embassy with a stolen blanket."
Kanika laughed. But it was kind.
"So what's your plan, Grandpa?"
Amit puffed up like a toad.
"I want to be a GST Inspector. See, every crook in this country respects two people police and politicians. And those two fear only one: an honest income tax officer. I'll be that guy."
"He says he'll start with raiding your future clinic," Danny added.
"Only if she overcharges patients," Amit grinned.
"Looking forward to your visit then, Officer Uncle," Kanika said, laughing so hard she nearly tipped off her stool.
Ramu Kaka dropped three steaming plates on their table like they owed him rent.
"Poha. Extra everything."
"Danny, don't stand there like a jerk and help me!" Amit yelped. "I only have two hands, and there are three plates!"
Danny stood to help And that's when he noticed Kanika stiffen.
She crouched slightly behind them, hiding her face.
"Easy, what's wrong?"
"Police jeep," she muttered.
"What? You are not thief right?"
"No. They'll tell my dad they saw me with boys."
"So? Is your dad some big guy?"
"My dad's SP Rajveer Sharma."
Danny choked.
"The SUPERINTENDENT OF POLICE?! SP of Scaredford?!"
"Unfortunately, yes."
Amit looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Oh, we're screwed."
The jeep rolled to a stop. Window down. A voice thundered.
"Kanika! What are you doing here?"
She didn't flinch. Just straightened, grabbed her plate, and turned to them.
"Come to Officer Lane. Bungalow No. 5. Evening. Momo party. My treat."
"But your poha "
"Give it to me. Bye!"
Grabbing the plate, she rushed to the jeep and disappeared inside.
The SP's cold stare hovered over Danny and Amit like a guillotine. Then the jeep vanished, swallowing her in its dust.
"Lemon?" Amit said softly.
"Yeah," Danny replied, passing it without looking up.
They ate in silence.
"So… her place?" Danny asked.
"Have you gone insane?" Amit asked.
"She invited us."
"She's the daughter of the SP! We'll die before dessert."
"She's good people, Amit. And we need friends. More than just us."
Amit shook his head.
"You have Hero Syndrome. That momo will come with a side of handcuffs. Bye, Danny. I'm out."
He left, muttering.
As soon as he disappeared, Ramu Kaka leaned across the counter.
"Danny beta… that Amit boy. You know what caste he is, right? You shouldn't be seen with such boys."
Danny froze.
"He's my friend, Kaka."
"Modern thinking. But remember low caste, low values. Our ancestors "
"Our ancestors are dead. And if they thought like you, good riddance."
He dropped cash on the counter.
"Tell your ancestors I paid extra for the poison."
There was an air of confidence around Danny. He didn't look wealthy. But he walked like someone people admired. Someone people followed.
The streets of Scaredford didn't change. Not for people like Danny or Amit. But Danny had something else in mind.
He walked through the crowd, the 98.29% still buzzing in his head, the smile of Kanika burned into the back of his mind, and the ache of his mother's bruises still pounding in his chest.
One day, Maa. Just hang on. I'll get you out. No one will ever touch you again.
His burner phone buzzed.
One message. From Amit.
"Don't go there. SP is not a good guy. He'll spank your ass so hard even your grandchildren will bear the mark."
Danny laughed out loud, nearly tripping on a pebble.
The phone buzzed again. A second message.
From Maa.
"Come home."
****************************************************
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