The smell of bleach. That was the first thing that hit Xavier's senses. It was sharp, clinical, and it burnt the inside of his nose. He tried to move his hands, but the cold leather straps held his wrists tight against the metal arms of the chair. His head felt like someone had driven a rusted nail through his skull. The last thing he remembered was the fire, the heat, and Silas's gray eyes—those eyes that had sold him out for a briefcase full of money.
He slowly opened his eyes. The room was blindingly white. No shadows, no dust, just pure, artificial light that made his brain ache.
"Don't struggle, Arjun. It only makes the anesthesia wear off faster, and believe me, you want to be numb for this," a voice said.
Xavier's head snapped toward the sound. Meera. She was standing by a tray of surgical instruments, her fingers tracing the edge of a scalpel. She wasn't the broken girl from the docks anymore. The fear was gone. The tears were gone. In their place was a woman who looked like she had been born in a lab, cold and calculating.
"Meera?" Xavier rasped, his voice sounding like someone had poured sand down his throat. "What... what the hell is this? You were with them? All this time?"
Meera turned, a thin, cruel smile playing on her lips. "All this time, Arjun. Did you really think a billionaire's son could just 'befriend' a girl like me? I was on your father's payroll since we were teenagers. And when the Phoenix took over, I just... transitioned. I'm not just your girlfriend, Arjun. I'm a neuro-specialist. I helped Silas design your new brain. I know every nerve in your body. I know where you feel pain, and I know where you hide your secrets."
Xavier felt a cold dread sink into his stomach. Every memory, every kiss, every word Meera had ever said to him was a lie. He had been a project since the day he was born.
"Where is my mother?" Xavier growled, trying to rip his arms free. The leather bit into his skin, drawing blood.
"She's safe. For now," a new voice entered the room. Silas.
He walked in with the same slow, predatory grace. He wasn't wearing his trench coat anymore. He was in a black tactical suit. He looked at Xavier not with regret, but with the cold pride of an artist looking at a finished painting.
"You're a masterpiece, Xavier," Silas said, leaning over him. "I didn't just rebuild your face. I rebuilt your instinct. The way you escaped that mill... the way you grabbed the locket... that was all me. I programmed that survival instinct into you. You think you made those choices? No. I made them for you."
"Why the hell did you sell me to the Raichands?" Xavier spat, his eyes burning with a rage that felt like it could melt the steel straps.
Silas laughed, a dry, grating sound. "Vikram Raichand Senior is the one who funded your surgery. He paid for the lab, the doctors, the training. Silas doesn't work for free, and he doesn't work for losers. You were the weapon he wanted to destroy the Vardhans from the inside. And you did it. You destroyed Vikram Vardhan. You did exactly what we designed you to do."
Xavier looked at Silas, then at Meera. He was surrounded by the architects of his misery. "So what now? You've won. You have the company. You have my father in jail. Why keep me alive?"
"Because," Meera said, picking up a syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid, "the Phoenix doesn't just want the company. He wants the Raichand bloodline to be 'perfect.' Your mother refused to cooperate. But you? With the right... adjustments... you will become the ultimate enforcer for the Raichand empire. We're going to erase Arjun, Xavier. We're going to erase the memories of the rain, the keechad, and the pain. You will be a clean slate. A god among men. Our god."
Meera approached him with the syringe. The blue liquid looked like bottled lightning. Xavier knew that once that needle touched his skin, the man who remembered his mother's lullabies would be gone forever. He would become a puppet, a hollow soldier for the man who destroyed his family.
"Look at me, Arjun," Meera whispered, her hand touching his cheek. It was a soft touch, but it felt like a snake crawling on his skin. "This is a gift. No more pain. No more revenge. Just power."
Xavier closed his eyes. He didn't think about the revenge. He didn't think about the money. He thought about the locket. The microchip inside. He remembered Silas's training—The mind is a cage, but the body is a key.
In his training, Silas had taught him how to dislocate his thumb to escape handcuffs. But these weren't handcuffs. They were heavy-duty industrial straps. Xavier breathed in, slow and deep. He focused all his energy on his right wrist. He didn't pull away. He twisted.
SNAP.
The sound of his bone cracking was loud in the silent room. He didn't scream. He used the sudden slack in the strap to slide his mangled hand out.
Before Meera could react, Xavier's bloody hand reached out and grabbed her throat. He pulled her close, the syringe still in her hand.
"A gift, Meera?" Xavier's voice was a deathly growl. "Then you should be the one to have it."
He grabbed her wrist and forced the needle into her own arm. Meera's eyes widened in terror. She tried to scream, but Xavier's grip was like an iron vise. He pushed the plunger down. All of it.
Meera collapsed, her body twitching as the blue liquid began to rewrite her neural pathways. Silas, who had been watching from the computer console, finally moved. He pulled out a combat knife, his face showing a hint of genuine surprise.
"Impressive, Xavier. You broke your own arm just to get a grip. Maybe I built you too well."
Xavier stood up, his right hand hanging uselessly at his side. He used his left hand to unbuckle the rest of the straps. He was weak, his vision was swimming, but the adrenaline was keeping him upright.
"You didn't build me, Silas," Xavier said, spitting blood on the white floor. "You just gave me a new face. The monster inside? That was always mine. And tonight, I'm letting him out."
Silas didn't waste time talking. He lunged. The knife was a silver blur. Xavier moved, his instincts taking over. He didn't fight like a man anymore; he fought like a wounded animal. He used the metal chair as a shield, swinging it with his one good arm.
The room became a battlefield of broken glass and blood. Silas was faster, more skilled, but Xavier was desperate. And a desperate man is the most dangerous thing in the world.
Xavier managed to grab a surgical tray and smashed it into Silas's face. As Silas stumbled back, Xavier saw his chance. He didn't go for the door. He went for the computer.
"The microchip," he hissed, his fingers flying over the keys even as his vision blurred.
The locket was plugged into the system. Xavier saw the files. Not just about his mother, but about the Phoenix's entire network. The politicians, the judges, the black money—everything was there.
"Copying... 10%... 20%..." the screen blinked.
Silas recovered and tackled Xavier to the ground. They rolled over the shattered glass, punching and clawing. Silas's knife grazed Xavier's neck.
"You're not leaving here, boy!" Silas growled.
"I don't have to leave," Xavier gasped, reaching for a heavy glass beaker on the floor and smashing it over Silas's head. "I just have to send the data."
90%... 95%... Complete.
Xavier hit the 'SEND' button. The destination? Every major news outlet, the International Police, and a secret encrypted server belonging to a man Silas feared—The Architect's old rival.
The room's sirens began to wail. Red lights flashed. The self-destruct sequence Silas had put in place for 'emergencies' had been triggered by the data breach.
Silas looked at the screen, then at Xavier. For the first time, Silas looked afraid. "You've ruined everything. Do you have any idea what you've done? You've started a world war."
"No," Xavier said, leaning against the desk, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I've started a cleanup. And you're the first piece of trash."
Xavier grabbed the locket back. He looked at Meera, who was now staring at the ceiling with empty, mindless eyes. The blue liquid had done its job. She was no longer a scientist. She was a vegetable.
Xavier staggered toward the exit. The building was shaking. Explosions were happening in the lower levels.
He burst through the final door into the cold night air. He was in the middle of a forest—a hidden laboratory in the mountains. He saw a black helicopter warming up on a nearby helipad. Vikram Raichand Senior was standing by the door, his face pale with fury.
"Arjun!" Vikram Senior screamed over the roar of the blades. "You've killed us all!"
Xavier didn't answer. He pulled out a small remote he had snatched from Silas's belt during the fight. He pressed the button.
The lab behind him vanished in a roar of orange and yellow fire. The shockwave knocked him forward, but he stayed on his feet.
The helicopter took off, Vikram Senior staring down at Xavier with a promise of death in his eyes. Xavier watched it disappear into the clouds. He was alone, bleeding, and his right arm was shattered. But he had the chip. He walked into the dark woods, the locket tight in his hand. "I'm coming, Ma," he whispered. Suddenly, a flashlight beam cut through the trees. A voice called out. "Xavier? Is that you?" It was a woman's voice. Not Meera's. Someone he hadn't seen in years. Someone Silas had said was dead. His sister.