"Aaaaaggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
The roar tore through the air — a scream so loud and raw it burst past the walls of its origin, pierced the sky, and shook the very earth. The man — now a demon — writhed in agony, thrashing and clutching his mangled face as he rolled across the ground, as if begging for mercy.
Unfortunately for him, the man responsible for his broken state was all out of mercy.
"Ever heard the phrase, 'Do not inflict what you cannot endure?'" Akshar asked, unfazed.
Akshar Nayak was many things — but a monster was not one of them.
He was hopeful enough to believe in the good in people, but not naive enough to believe that everyone was capable of it.
He wasn't a monster. But he knew they existed.
One of them had killed his brother — and that was why he became an ACE: to hunt monsters.
"How dare you scream in pain," he said coldly, stepping closer. "When you've inflicted so much of it on the innocent? No... I won't allow it. You don't get to scream. Not after everything you've done."
Akshar braced for another punch—this time, he wouldn't miss, and the demon knew it. He saw it in the Ace's blazing eyes. Now, at point-blank range, there was no time to dodge. This blow would end it. Defense was useless. The only move left was to strike.
"FUCK YOU!!!!" screamed the demon as it lunged and chomped into Akshar's waist. His jagged teeth tearing through armor and flesh with a wet crunch.
Akshar shrieked as blood sprayed in hot arcs, misting the air in crimson.
The demon swung him like a flail, teeth still buried in his side, then hurled him with monstrous force. Akshar hit the far wall headfirst—hard enough to shake the ground.
The demon didn't stop. In a blur of motion, he lunged forward, fists flying in a storm of fury. It was like being struck by a hundred arms at once.
"All that talk of power… of pain," he roared, every blow shattering brick, summoning clouds of dust. "And this is it? This is all you've got?"
"Bullshit! That's all you have. People like you don't even see us—until we're a threat."
Akshar's body was lost in the rubble. The wall behind him trembled, webbed with cracks, on the verge of giving way.
"Just like her. She never cared who I was—until I did what I did. Now, she'll never forget me. She'll be mine. And if not…" His voice dipped. "I'll kill her too."
A shockwave slammed into his face. The gust hit like a sledgehammer, flinging him backward. He crashed to the ground, bounced once, then again—each time weaker—until he finally skidded to a halt, limbs slack in a haze of settling dust.
Every muscle in his enormous body throbbed with searing pain, his arms and legs barely able to hold the weight of his trembling frame. His mind spiraled in confusion, his vision blurred and unfocused. "What… was that?!" he gasped, blood spurting from his mouth, his thoughts still unable to piece together what had just happened.
As the blur in his eyes began to clear, terror was all he could feel — enough to paralyze him to his core. The air around him thickened with rage, and he could swear he smelled death.
"How are you still standing? What the fuck are you?!" he gasped, his intended scream reduced to a trembling whisper.
Akshar Nayak, the man he had clobbered endlessly, stood before him. Bruises covered him, his armored vest was soaked in blood, and his face was swollen purple — yet his stance was stern and tall, his eyes glistening red.
"You'll kill her? That's what you said, right?" Akshar clenched his fists. "Over my dead body."
In a flash, Akshar's raging form closed the distance. Air rushed into his arms, jetted into his legs, and with a fierce release, his kick shot into the demon's jaw.
The demon rocketed upward, the force so immense it blasted the ground apart beneath them. Hundreds of feet above, the demon floated for a brief, stunned second — his jaw broken, arms and legs flailing. His wide eyes caught the starry night… until he blinked and saw the Ace looming above him.
Once again, Akshar drew in air from all around and, with a fierce blast from his back, shot straight down — slamming deep into the demon's stomach.
Like a shooting star, they plummeted, smashing into the ground with a devastating crash that shattered the surface into rubble.
"Did he die?" Bose asked, flicking the ash off his cigarette.
"No... he survived." Akshar nodded, his voice low. "In Dr Hassan's words, his reaction somehow cushioned him from taking the full force of the attack. That's why he turned normal right after."
Bose took a slow drag from his cigarette, dreading the next question. He could see how much recalling this was unsettling Akshar — but it had to come out. The kid had to let it all out.
"So... what happened next?" Bose asked, doing his best to mask his hesitation.
Akshar sighed deeply, pausing before answering. "Next, the sergeant arrived with backup. He chewed me out for being so reckless."
"Obviously." Bose smirked.
"Yeah... so I briefed the sergeant on everything. And as soon as I mentioned the Daimon reaction, he knew exactly who was behind it. That's when he said the name — Manni Khoba."
"Oh god, no. That fucking bastard! I should've guessed." Bose's voice cracked, his irritation spilling over.
"You know him too?" Akshar asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
"Everybody at Panaha WDA knows about him." Bose let out a sharp breath, puffing his cigarette like a man chasing calm. "The guy was an official catalyst at the lab until he got canned, long before you were stationed here. Hassan hated his guts — hell, we all did."
"Sounds about right. The sergeant was furious just mentioning his name," Akshar muttered.
"Manni was never right in the head, even from day one. But after his wife disappeared, he just... broke." Bose took a final drag, flicked the cigarette to the ground, and was already lighting another. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Akshar's face fell. His eyes clouded with sorrow, and a dark horror flickered across his expression.
"His wife didn't go missing," Akshar murmured.
"What are you talking about?"
Akshar didn't answer. His gaze dropped to his hands, fingers twisting tightly together, as if holding himself by sheer will.
"Kid, talk." Bose leaned forward, his voice sharpening. "What the hell happened?"
It took Akshar some time to pull himself back to his senses. When he did, he told Bose that he wanted Manni Khoba brought in for questioning — no, arrested at once. But the sergeant denied his request, even though the doubt in his own voice betrayed him.
Akshar pleaded with him. Innocent people had been massacred. A young girl had lost her entire family, all because of one man's madness. The guilty had to be brought to justice.
But the sergeant shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Akshar. I understand how you feel — in fact, I agree with you. But we have a bigger fish to fry. If we don't, tragedies like this will only keep happening."
That was all the sergeant had to say.
Akshar stood there, in the middle of an open field stained with blood, his body aching and bruised. Around him, WDA officials moved carefully, picking up what little was left of the victims, placing the pieces into black bags. Pain throbbed through every part of him, but it was nothing compared to the rage simmering in his chest.
He turned, eyes falling on the girl being carried away on a stretcher — unconscious, but with dried tears still clinging to her cheeks. A sharp pang twisted in his heart, a mix of sorrow for her and bitter disappointment in himself.
Soon after, Akshar was examined by Dr. Hassan, head of Panaha's WDA lab, who, much like the sergeant, scolded him before placing him on three days of medical leave. For the first two days, Akshar could barely move a muscle. But on the third, as soon as he regained some strength, he rushed to check on the girl.
"Excuse me, do you know which room Kavita Pradhan is in? I'm Akshar Nayak, an ACE of the WDA — here's my badge," he said politely at the hospital reception, holding a bouquet of daisies with a Get Well Soon card tied to them.
"Uh, sure… that's room 15 on the first floor. Sir, are you okay? You look like you need a room yourself," the receptionist said, eyeing his face wrapped in bandages, only his eyes and smiling mouth visible.
"Ha, no, no. I'm perfectly fine. In fact, I'm excellent."
"Sir, you're bleeding through your bandages," the receptionist pointed out.
"It's but a scratch. Don't worry about it — I'll be on my way now." Akshar laughed it off and walked away, feeling like a complete idiot.
Since it was just one floor up, Akshar took the stairs. On the way, he pulled up the hood of his light green hoodie, using it to dab at the streaks of blood seeping through his bandages. Off duty, he was dressed in civilian clothes — sneakers, blue jeans, and the hoodie — a sharp contrast to the uniformed image people were used to.
Room 15 was only three doors down from the staircase. The closer Akshar got, the more his smile faded. He had a good idea of what he was about to walk into — but still, a part of him hoped to be wrong. As an ACE, he was trained to handle grieving victims. But dead silence? There was no training manual for that.
Inside, the nurse was gently brushing the girl's hair as she sat on the bed, shoulders slumped. Kavita's legs lay motionless beneath a thin white blanket, arms resting limply on top. Her eyes were hollow, fixed on some distant point, replaying the tragedy over and over in her mind.
Akshar's eyes caught on the bandage around her wrist. His brow furrowed. That hadn't been there before. He remembered clearly — she'd been the only one unharmed during the massacre. So… where had that come from?
"Are you a relative of hers, sir?" the nurse asked softly, glancing over.
"Uh, no," Akshar said, adjusting his grip on the bouquet. "I was the first responding officer at the scene." He forced a small, awkward smile as he stepped toward the bed. "Hey… these are for you. Are you… feeling any better?" The words came out barely above a whisper, brittle and thin.
…
…
…
No reply. Not even a flicker of movement.
"She's been like this since she arrived," the nurse said quietly, brushing back a lock of Kavita's hair. "She won't eat or drink. Not even the medicines. We've had to switch to IV fluids to keep her stable."
Akshar felt the air leave his lungs in a slow, heavy exhale. His fingers tightened around the bouquet until the paper crinkled in his hand. A deep ache settled in his chest — sorrow for the girl and a raw, gnawing frustration at his own helplessness.
"Actually, sir," the nurse added gently, "it's good you're here. The doctor needs to speak with you about something."
Akshar's head lifted, his heart picking up pace. "About what?"
"It's better if the doctor explains, sir. I'll go find her," the nurse said softly, then turned and walked away, leaving Akshar standing there, bouquet trembling slightly in his hands.
"I'll just put these here," Akshar said softly as he placed the bouquet on the small table beside her bed. The silence in the room was heavy, pressing down on both of them. Akshar searched for words he couldn't seem to find, while Kavita heard nothing but the echo of loss.
"I… I'm really so—"
"There was an officer here," she interrupted, her voice thin and hollow, almost merging with the silence. "He said I was the sole survivor. Is that really true? Everyone else… is gone?"
Akshar's throat tightened. How do you tell someone they now have to live in a world stripped of everyone they love? There's no right way — only the most honest, most gentle one you can manage.
"… No," he whispered.
Kavita went still again, retreating into silence, her eyes blank, staring past him.
Akshar swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his side. He wanted to sit, to reach out — but stayed frozen.
"Listen, it pains me to ask this," he began hesitantly, his voice rough, "but can you tell me anything about the guy who did this? We haven't been able to get anything useful from him so far."
She didn't move. Didn't blink.
Akshar rubbed the back of his neck. "When I confronted him… he said something about you being taken away from him. Was he an ex-boyfriend or… someone you knew?" The words felt jagged in his mouth, cutting both ways.
For a moment, Kavita was silent, and Akshar felt the air stretch tight between them.
"I've been torturing… my brain," she finally murmured, voice trembling, "trying to remember anything significant about him… since I woke up. And I can't. I… can't. He used to come to the bank where I work. Always checking his balance at the counter next to mine. Never at mine. I didn't even know his name. Barely remembered his face. And now… now I can't forget it."
Each word pulled her apart a little more, tearing her from the inside. And with every word, Akshar felt himself sinking deeper into the cold, brutal weight of what had been done to her.
It was all in his head, Akshar thought, a hard shiver creeping up his spine. Manni Khoba conducted such a deadly reaction on an absolute lunatic.
"I don't know if it's any consolation," Akshar said quietly, gathering what little resolve he had left, "but the guy responsible… the WDA will make sure — I will make sure — that he regrets every moment of this."
He wasn't sure if he was promising it to her or to himself.
"I don't care," she whispered.
And just like that, something inside Akshar cracked, splintering into pieces he couldn't put back together.
"Excuse me, Mr. Nayak," called the doctor at the door. "I'm the attending doctor for Ms. Pradhan. May I speak with you for a moment?"
"Yeah… sure."
Akshar, startled by the sudden call, stepped away, his eyes flicking away from Kavita though his mind stayed with her.
The doctor led him down the hallway, all the way back to the staircase — far enough that Kavita wouldn't overhear. Akshar's chest tightened; the distance alone made him uneasy.
"Mr. Nayak," the doctor said, her expression tight with concern, "we've already submitted a formal request to the WDA, but I'd appreciate it if you could help expedite it. We need a trauma therapist and a WDA officer here as soon as possible."
Akshar frowned. "I understand the therapist… but why the officer?"
The doctor hesitated, drawing in a breath. "After she woke up the first time… she began screaming uncontrollably. We had to sedate her. And last night, after speaking with the officer who confirmed… what happened, she tried to take her own life." The doctor's voice lowered. "A nurse found her in time — they were able to close the wound on her wrist before she lost too much blood."
For a moment, Akshar couldn't speak. He felt it then — a cold, sharp thing twisting inside him, pushing past his grief, his sorrow, straight into rage. His fists clenched, his jaw tightened.
"I'll make sure someone's here within the hour," he said, his voice like steel.
As he turned to leave, the doctor called softly, "Aren't you going to say goodbye to her?"
Akshar paused on the stairs, his back to her. "I don't deserve to," he said quietly. "Not until I've done what's necessary."
Without looking back, he walked away — ready to do what he had to do.