Aythijhya rips the knife free from his throat.
His body snapped backward as her kick slammed into him.
"Aghh" the sound choked off in his throat.
He collapsed to the floor, coughing as blood spilled from his mouth.
She crouched down to his level, fingers tangling into his hair, yanking his head back with brutal force.
"What happened now, hmm?” she murmured, her voice laced with venom. “That mouth of yours wouldn’t stop running a few minutes ago.”
His eyes shimmered, not with defiance, but with raw, helpless pain.
She lifts the knife, her grip steady despite the tremor in her breath.
“Wait for me in hell.” The blade comes down.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Her breathing turns uneven, ragged with rage.
“What the hell have you done?” A roar cuts through the room, anger dripping from every word.
Aythijhya stills.
Slowly, she lifts her gaze.
Blood stains her hands. The knife rests loosely in her grip.
At the entrance a masked man stands frozen,eyes locked on the body at her feet.
For a second, neither of them moves.
The mask is made of gold with a slightly rough, hammered surface that catches the light unevenly. A small sun with a human face is carved at the center of the forehead, while a curved crescent shape runs across one side, partly framing one eye. Sharp, uneven rays extend outward from both sides like a crown. The eye holes are dark and empty, hiding whatever is behind them.
Silence stretches—thick, suffocating.
The man steps forward.
Measured.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
She stands, her eyes sharp as they lock onto the man a few feet away.
“Who are you?” she asks.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” he snaps, stepping closer, closing the distance.
The mask glints in the dark, golden strips carved into its surface. Beneath it, his brown eyes burn with fury.
“Who do you work for?”he asks.
Aythijhya doesn’t answer.
Instead a shot cracks through the air.
The bullet slams into the wall beside the masked man’s head.
Zenith.
He steps from behind gun raised, expression cold.
“Conversation’s over" he says.
The masked man doesn’t flinch.
He moves.
Fast.
He grabs the nearest metal crate and kicks it forward hard.
It slams into Aythijhya, forcing her back a step.
Another shot.
He twists aside.
The bullet grazes his shoulder.
No hesitation.
He lunges forward, closing the distance with Zenith. Too close for clean aim.
Zenith reacts instantly, swinging the gun.
The masked man catches his wrist mid-motion, shoving it upward.
The shot fires into the ceiling.
They collide.
A brutal clash force, against force.
Zenith drives his elbow toward his jaw—
Blocked.
The masked man counters, slamming his shoulder into Zenith’s chest, forcing him back.
Aythijhya recovers in the meantime gripping her knife she moves in from the side.
The masked man sees it too late.
The blade slices across his arm.
Blood.
He doesn’t stop.
Instead, he pivots grabbing Zenith and shoving him straight into her path.
She halts just in time.
A second of chaos.
That’s all he needs.
He reaches into his coat, A small cylindrical object hits the ground.
Smoke erupts.
Thick.
Blinding.
Zenith curses, stepping back, trying to regain sight.
“Don’t let him—”
Too late.
Through the haze, the man moves fast and precise.
A door slams somewhere in the distance
The smoke begins to thin.
Zenith lowers his gun slightly, jaw tight.
Aythijhya scans the space, breathing uneven.
Gone.
Only the faint echo of footsteps remains.
Zenith exhales sharply, wiping blood from his lip.
“…He planned that.”
Aythijhya’s grip tightens around her knife.
“No” she says quietly.
Her eyes flick toward the exit.
“He adapted.”
“He’s Indian, Zen. We need to find him.”
“I know,but not now. The crowd’s breaking, and the police are already moving in.” he said .
“Where’s Sera?”
“Gone quiet. She told me to leave the moment we were done.”
A beat.
“So we move?”
Zenith nods once.
“We move "
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Stay tuned for further chapters 🍷
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