Miraal Khanna didn't pick up on the first ring. Or the second.
By the third, Elian had already prepared three versions of how this conversation might go. He chose the shortest one.
Finally, her voice crackled through the call. "I assume this is about Arya."
"She's in," Elian said.
Pause. Just a breath of disbelief.
"She told me she'd think about it," Miraal replied.
"She thought fast."
Another pause — longer this time.
Then, "All right. I'll start drafting the paperwork and confirm our platform leads. We need to secure pre-sales while the buzz is cold. Arya's name gives us one shot at traction. We use it."
"I understand," Elian said. "I'll get you a finalized script by the end of the week."
"Elian."
He paused.
"She's not a trophy. She's a fuse. Use her wrong, and this whole thing explodes."
Click.
Elian stared at his blank screen for a second longer than necessary. Miraal was right. Arya wasn't a cheat code; she was a spotlight — and under it, everything either sharpened or fell apart.
---
The next three days were a blur.
Elian locked himself into his workspace — not the apartment, but a rented desk in a shared co-working studio where the coffee was free and no one knew who he was.
He opened the SceneForge interface and poured through every major scene of the script.
Not rewriting.
Reweaving.
He adjusted transitions between acts. Strengthened Veena's unraveling without making her melodramatic. Brought clarity to a subplot involving the antagonist's shadow network. Removed a minor character entirely — too weak, too cliché.
Each change was precise.
And each adjustment rippled through the system's analytics:
[ Tension Curve Consistency: 89% → 94%
Emotional Arc Clarity (Veena Mehra):
80% → 91%
Performance Synergy Forecast (Arya Rane): 92% ]
That number was what he wanted to see.
---
On the fourth day, Elian emailed Miraal the final draft.
She didn't reply immediately. But a few hours later, he got a voice note:
[ "Pacing's tight. Dialogue's sharp. Veena reads like someone real. Good work.
I've sent it to the platform scouts. Don't get comfortable — meetings are next." ]
---
[POV: Miraal Khanna]
The man in the mirrored conference room leaned forward. "A debut director. A dark detective drama. No franchise hooks. What am I missing here?"
Miraal didn't blink. "You're missing Arya Rane."
He leaned back. "She's done thrillers before."
"Never like this. This isn't glam-shot violence. This is tension in the inhalation. It's prestige content — stripped, raw, character-driven."
The platform scout, a middle-aged executive from NexScreen, tapped his pen.
"Do you have a previsualization?"
Miraal smirked. "We have something better. A SceneForge demo. Watch this."
She played the thirty-second sequence: Veena in the alley. The line. The silence.
By the end, he was sitting upright.
"Who's directing this again?" he asked.
"Elian Verma. New face. But he writes like a veteran and thinks like a cinematographer."
"Still a risk."
"Which is why we're asking for a mid-tier slot, not headlining. Let the numbers build on merit."
He rubbed his jaw. "If you get Arya to co-promote—"
"She's already agreed to. Quietly. She wants it seen, not sold."
He nodded. "Fine. Send us a preliminary schedule. If we like the pilot footage, we'll bump distribution."
---
[POV: Elian Verma]
By the time Miraal called again, Elian had already anticipated the next hurdle.
"We're greenlit for a limited online release," she said. "But they want a pilot scene shot before signing the full backing. One scene. High fidelity. Something with impact."
"Same alley scene?"
"No. Something longer. They want performance and mood."
Elian already had one in mind. "The confrontation in the interrogation room. Scene twenty-three."
Veena breaking a suspect without ever raising her voice. The one where the camera would stay on her for most of the scene — eyes, hands, the tremble behind stillness.
"Ambitious," Miraal replied.
"Perfect."
She hesitated. "We'll need a cinematographer and editor fast. Budget's tight."
"I'll handle the editor."
"Elian—"
"I have someone."
---
He did. Someone from his previous life.
Not someone famous. But a collaborator.
Shaan Varma.
A post-production specialist, smart with mood toning, who'd once said: "A cut isn't about where you stop. It's about what breath you leave out."
In this world, Shaan wasn't in film. He worked in visual branding. But Elian had tracked him down, watched his reel, and confirmed the skill was still there.
He sent a message:
{ "I'm working on a debut project. I remember what you said about breath and cuts. Still true?" }
Shaan replied a few minutes later:
{ "Always. What's the gig?" }
Elian smiled.