The heat outside D-17 pulsed faintly through the stone walls. Inside, tension hovered like smoke.
Aarvansh stepped closer to Bhalla and leaned in.
Aarvansh (whispers):
"I think he's not mad at you after all."
Bhalla (murmuring back):
"Shush! His silence scares me more than his lectures. I swear it's my last day on earth."
Albert stood with his back turned—unmoving. The silence grew heavier by the second.
Then, without turning, he spoke.
Albert:
"I'll deal with you later, Bhalla. But right now... we've got bigger problems."
He finally turned to face them—eyes cold, jaw clenched.
Albert (continuing):
"I reached the village two weeks ago. Didn't speak to anyone. Didn't have to. Everything I needed to know, I found on my own. And I know exactly what Aryan is planning."
Aarvansh:
"We just came from the village and we…"
He faltered. Albert's sharp stare froze him mid-sentence.
Aarvansh (recovering):
"…we didn't learn much. The villagers kept their mouths shut. But we found your message in the cell—'D-17.' That's how we found you."
"All we know is that Aryan keeps them alive with weekly capsules. Beyond that… they didn't care to say more."
Bhalla looked surprised—his mouth opened, but Aarvansh gave a subtle hand gesture behind his back. Bhalla paused, catching the cue.
Bhalla:
"So… what did you find, sir?"
Albert:
"Aryan does have an army. But not the kind we expected."
"He didn't weaken the doses—he rewrote them. He altered the serum to boost cognitive output instead of brute strength. They're not brawlers. They're tacticians."
"The villagers were discarded because the formula failed on them. Aryan saw them as useless. If they talk—he'll kill them all."
A beat.
Aarvansh (carefully):
"Do you know 'why' he's doing this?"
His tone hinted at something deeper—an accusation beneath the question.
Albert's eyes narrowed, but he answered coldly.
Albert:
"He always wanted to be the best. Couldn't handle not being in control. So he built his own empire. He's not just planning an uprising—he's targeting India's digital backbone."
"Bank networks. Defense systems. Nuclear protocols. You give him the backdoor, and he won't just open it—he'll burn the house down."
"And remember—each of his men is still physically strong. One of them equals five of us."
Aarvansh:
"Maybe… maybe I can talk to him. Reason with him."
Albert (sharp):
"This isn't a debate hall. It's war. He's crossed lines that can't be erased."
Aarvansh looked at him—longer this time. In his mind, the villager's words echoed. Something about Albert wasn't sitting right anymore.
Aarvansh (measured):
"Sir… whatever happened in the past, it's done. But what we do now still matters. There might be a way to end this without more blood."
Albert (cold):
"If you're serious about this mission, leave your emotions behind. We're not here to play therapists to a war criminal. You want to save him? Go home. This isn't for kids with bleeding hearts."
Bhalla stepped in—his tone somewhere between support and realism.
Bhalla:
"Sir… he's not entirely wrong. But even if we did want to confront Aryan—we can't."
"His base is in Pokhran. That place hasn't healed since the nuclear tests in the '70s. The radiation there could cripple anyone without enhancement."
"If we step in without being modified like him or his soldiers, our bodies won't last a day. Aryan's army can survive it. We can't."
Albert's jaw tightened. His eyes, for the first time, flickered with something unreadable.
Albert (calmly, but razor-sharp):
"Bhalla… kid… there's something you're not telling me."
He took a step closer.
"You know something I don't."
Bhalla froze mid-breath. Aarvansh's jaw tightened ever so slightly.
Albert's eyes flicked from one to the other—reading microexpressions like a trained sniper.
Albert (colder):
"You're hiding something."
Aarvansh swallowed. Just once. It was enough.
Albert saw it. Felt it. The shift in the room. A crack in the unity.
His voice dropped lower—just above a whisper, but sharper than ever.
Albert:
"You both went to that village. You looked those people in the eye. And now you're looking at me... like I'm the enemy."
Aarvansh's fingers curled into fists behind his back.
Bhalla opened his mouth—then closed it.
Albert stared at them in silence, letting the weight of his suspicion press down like gravity.
Albert (final, flat):
"You heard something. Didn't you?"
No one answered.
But silence—can be louder than truth.