The checkpoint appeared like a scar on the road.
Metal barricades. Floodlights. Armed silhouettes moving with bored precision.
The moment Raghav saw it, Aditya's words—let her sleep—vanished from his mind.
Malisha's warning replaced them.
He slowed the bus.
"Mal," he said quietly.
She woke instantly. No confusion. No grogginess. Just awareness snapping into place.
"What happened?" she asked, glancing at the road. Then she saw it.
"Oh. Have I been asleep that long?"
"OG checkpoint," Raghav said. "What do we do?"
"Nothing different," Malisha replied calmly. "I'll brief the mission. Official captain protocol still applies."
She paused, fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the seat.
"But that's not the problem," she added. "Aditya will want to inform them. Everything."
Raghav looked at her sideways.
"So this is about you, then? Afraid what they'll do if they know?"
"No." She shook her head. "They can't do anything to me."
Her voice dropped.
"But they can to you."
Silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable.
"What does that mean?" Raghav asked. "Don't do this halfway. Tell me the truth."
Malisha exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the checkpoint drawing closer.
"OG isn't just an organization," she said. "You already know that. It's under my guarantee. I helped build it. My condition—always—was that my siblings stayed unaware. Safe. Separate."
She finally looked at him.
"You all knowing me, traveling with me, moving through safe zones… that breaks the balance. Not for me. For you. If they see you as a threat, I won't be able to stop everything."
Raghav absorbed that quietly.
"So if we act normal," he said, "you can manage it."
"Yes."
He nodded once. Then: "Tell Aditya."
Malisha let out a short, humorless laugh.
"He won't hear it," she said. "And even if he does, he'll misunderstand it. That's how he is."
"He'll understand," Raghav said firmly. "If you explain. Not impose. Not surprise him like before."
He hesitated.
"Still… I don't think he'll let you lead."
Malisha didn't argue.
Raghav picked up the radio.
"Captain," he called.
Footsteps. Aditya appeared at the cabin door, eyes heavy with sleep, instinct already alert.
"We've got an OG checkpoint," Raghav said. Then glanced at Malisha. "And she wants to tell you something."
Aditya turned to her.
"Yes?" he said.
Malisha looked everywhere except at him.
At the road. The barricades. The armed men waiting ahead.
Then, finally—
She met his eyes.
And the bus rolled forward.
"I—"
Malisha hesitated, then forced the words out.
"I think I should give the status check at the checkpoint."
Aditya stiffened.
"You remember," he said carefully, "the crew doesn't do that."
Raghav glanced at Malisha, exhaled sharply.
"You want to give the status check because…?"
He gestured for her to finish.
"I don't want you to mention me," Malisha said quietly. "And I'm still the official captain."
"Malisha," Raghav warned.
Aditya let out a dry laugh.
"So now you're worried about your reputation? Classic."
"No," she said quickly. "You can do whatever you want. But it'll create problems—for everyone. My siblings might find out."
She swallowed.
"I'll pretend to be injured. You can take the lead. Just—please."
Raghav flinched.
Malisha didn't look at him once.
Aditya stared at her for a long moment. Then his jaw tightened.
"Fine," he said coldly. "Be injured. I'll see what I can do."
He turned and stormed out of the cabin.
The silence he left behind was heavier than his anger.
Raghav broke first.
"This," he said flatly, "is manipulation. Not explanation."
He turned to her fully.
"What are you doing? Do you actually want us all dead?"
"This will work," Malisha said, too quickly. "I know him. He won't take the truth normally. Trust me."
She stopped herself, then added in a smaller voice,
"If I tell him everything, he'll… hate me more."
Raghav's expression hardened.
"You used your siblings," he said. "Of course it'll work."
"No, I didn't," she said immediately. "That is the truth."
"The truth you shaped to control the outcome," Raghav replied.
"That's still manipulation, Malisha."
She looked down.
The word landed deeper than she expected.
She'd been accused of many things before—by Aditya most of all—but this was different. This time, she didn't dismiss it. Didn't defend herself.
For the first time, she wondered if it was true.
And if it was…
whether guilt was something she was allowed to feel.
The bus rolled closer.
Floodlights cut through the dark.
The OG checkpoint waited.
The checkpoint was finally here.
The bus slowed to a crawl, tyres crunching over gravel, and the unease inside it thickened instantly.
Whispers rose.
"Why are we stopping now?"
"What is it?"
"Did she do something?"
Ishitha's voice cut through the murmurs, sharp with fear.
"Why here? Why now?"
Malisha stepped into the aisle.
She looked bored — arms loose, expression flat — the kind of bored she always wore in situations like this.
But this time, it was an act.
For the first time, her pulse was loud in her ears.
"Oh please," she said lightly, waving a hand. "It's just an OG checkpoint. Nothing else. And do you seriously think I'd pull something now?"
Her tone was dismissive, almost lazy.
The survivors hesitated.
Then Ram spoke.
"Good," he said. "Then you won't mind if we turn her in."
The air snapped.
Malisha's head turned slowly.
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't move.
She only looked at him.
The cold in her gaze froze the bus.
No one breathed.
"No," Aditya said firmly, not looking at her.
"We're not doing that. And even if we did, it wouldn't matter here. They can't take action — all they'll do is spread rumours."
Malisha's jaw tightened for half a second.
Then she lifted her hand — subtle, almost invisible — and gestured to Siya.
Siya understood immediately.
She knew the truth.
She knew Raj's warning.
She knew what Aditya didn't.
If Aditya slipped — even once — Siya would catch it.
Malisha's eyes flicked to Aditya, then back to Siya.
Go.
Siya moved to stand beside Aditya without a word.
The bus idled.
Outside, boots approached.
The checkpoint had noticed them.
The checkpoint was finally here.
The bus slowed to a crawl, tyres crunching over gravel, and the unease inside it thickened instantly.
Whispers rose.
"Why are we stopping now?"
"What is it?"
"Did she do something?"
Ishitha's voice cut through the murmurs, sharp with fear.
"Why here? Why now?"
Malisha stepped into the aisle.
She looked bored — arms loose, expression flat — the kind of bored she always wore in situations like this.
But this time, it was an act.
For the first time, her pulse was loud in her ears.
"Oh please," she said lightly, waving a hand. "It's just an OG checkpoint. Nothing else. And do you seriously think I'd pull something now?"
Her tone was dismissive, almost lazy.
The survivors hesitated.
Then Ram spoke.
"Good," he said. "Then you won't mind if we turn her in."
The air snapped.
Malisha's head turned slowly.
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't move.
She only looked at him.
The cold in her gaze froze the bus.
No one breathed.
"No," Aditya said firmly, not looking at her.
"We're not doing that. And even if we did, it wouldn't matter here. They can't take action — all they'll do is spread rumours."
Malisha's jaw tightened for half a second.
Then she lifted her hand — subtle, almost invisible — and gestured to Siya.
Siya understood immediately.
She knew the truth.
She knew Raj's warning.
She knew what Aditya didn't.
If Aditya slipped — even once — Siya would catch it.
Malisha's eyes flicked to Aditya, then back to Siya.
Go.
Siya moved to stand beside Aditya without a word.
The bus idled.
Outside, boots approached.
The checkpoint had noticed them.
Aditya and Siya stepped off the bus.
Malisha slipped back into the driver's cabin, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, unmoving.
The bus doors hissed open.
Two guards climbed inside.
Outside, an officer stopped in front of Aditya and Siya, his gaze already assessing, already suspicious.
"You're the captain?" he asked.
Aditya didn't hesitate.
"No. First mate. The captain is… injured."
The officer nodded slowly.
One of the guards glanced toward the bus, then down at the register in his hands.
"Hm," he muttered. "Bus number eight."
He ran his finger down the page.
"The captain would be Malisha."
The name landed heavier than a weapon.
The guard looked up.
Straight at the bus.
"Very young captain," the officer said, eyes narrowing slightly.
"High clearance level too. So—how did she get injured?"
For a fraction of a second, Aditya had nothing.
But he didn't drop the act.
Before the silence could betray him, Siya stepped forward.
"We were only five when the zone collapsed," she said evenly. "The red zone worsened faster than expected. The rescue turned volatile."
She paused—just enough to make it sound practiced.
"One of us got seriously injured."
The officer's gaze shifted to her.
She met it without flinching.
"I'm the nurse."
The guard studied her face, weighing the lie.
The guard began asking for identities, ranks, assignments—routine questions delivered with practiced boredom.
Inside the bus, two guards moved through the aisle, assisted by Dweep.
"So these are the survivors," the younger guard said, counting quietly. "Five."
He glanced at them again, curious rather than hostile.
"Man… how did you manage all these years in the red zone?"
"They were under Rank Eighty," Dweep cut in smoothly.
The bearded guard snorted.
"Yeah. Most of them didn't make it past the Rank Massacre. Brutal incident."
He shook his head. "They said the Queen Conqueror wiped them out."
The crew exchanged quick glances.
Too quick.
The bearded guard noticed.
"Well," he continued casually, leaning against a seat, "must've been hard on all of you. So—how's the journey been so far?"
A pause.
"Like the crew?"
"We… we're fine," Saurabh began, then hesitated. "But—"
"They're still in shock," Dweep interrupted again, a little too quickly this time.
The older guard's eyes narrowed—just slightly.
"Thanks," he said to Dweep, voice polite but firm.
"But we asked them."
Silence.
Dweep didn't speak this time.
He didn't look away either.
"Yes?" the guard pressed, turning back to Saurabh. "Any problems?"
Ram cleared his throat, sensing the shift.
"No. We're fine," he said carefully. "The captain though… she's not doing very well."
"Oh, yes," the bearded guard chuckled. "Malisha Ramaniya."
He smiled like someone recalling a familiar storm.
"Arrogant. Bossy. Impossible."
The smile faded just a little.
"But the best in the field. Always has been."
A pause.
"I wonder what happened to her."
With that, he turned and walked toward the driver's cabin.
"I'm asleep," Malisha whispered, eyes already closed, head resting against the window.
Raghav stiffened.
"What—what am I supposed to tell them?" he whispered back, panic threading his voice.
"Tell them I'm sedated," she murmured calmly. "Anaesthesia. Siya administered it hours ago. Might wear off, might not. That way they won't question why I'm out cold—or why I don't respond."
She didn't open her eyes.
"And you," she added, almost casually, "are just the driver. Don't think. Don't explain. Play dumb. This ends faster that way."
Raghav's throat went dry.
It was a lie—clean, layered, terrifyingly convincing.
And now it sat entirely on his shoulders.
He wasn't sure what unsettled him more: the risk, the ease with which she'd constructed it, or the fact that part of him admired it.
Fear, anger, irritation, awe—everything tangled at once.
Before he could decide which emotion won, footsteps reached the cabin.
The bearded guard stepped inside.
"What happened to her?" the guard asked, his eyes never leaving Malisha.
Raghav cleared his throat.
"Oh—she's asleep. Anaesthesia. The nurse administered it earlier. It was a while ago—she might wake up soon."
The guard's gaze hardened.
"No. I mean—how and where is she injured?"
Raghav's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"Internal injuries," he said after a brief pause. "The red zone was worse than expected. There was a collapse during extraction. She insisted on completing the mission before getting treatment."
The guard leaned closer, close enough to hear Malisha's breathing—slow, even, controlled.
"Well," he said quietly, "do you know what exactly happened in that red zone mission?"
Raghav let out a small, almost nervous laugh.
"Come on, man. I'm just the driver. I don't get briefed on those things."
"Hm," the guard replied, unconvinced. "Right."
Before the silence could stretch further, the cabin door burst open.
"There are dogs on this bus," the younger guard said, visibly shaken.
The older guard finally shifted his attention to Raghav.
"Yes," Raghav said calmly. "Three dogs. They belong to Malisha. Mission-trained. They won't harm anyone—as long as they aren't provoked."
The older guard nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said. "I know she has three dogs."
His eyes flicked back to Malisha—measuring, remembering.
"And any higher-rank encounters?" the guard asked outside—casual tone, sharp eyes.
Siya stiffened beside Aditya.
"No," she answered evenly—too evenly, too fast.
Aditya stepped in immediately.
"No direct encounters. Just the usual—scavengers, a few lower ranks. And we passed through Davila Pearl, so—"
"The Player," the guard interrupted, studying him closely. "You met him."
"Yes," Aditya said without hesitation. "Unplanned. He was outside the club—celebrating something. Loud enough to wake the dead. Malisha contacted him. He cleared the way."
The guard held his gaze for a long moment.
Then he exhaled.
"Of course," he said. "The Player is an ally. And Malisha has a way of convincing people."
Siya finally breathed.
Aditya inclined his head slightly.
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else?"
"No," the guard said at last, closing the register with a decisive snap. "We'll conduct a full inspection. And we'll see the captain as well. You've crossed the red zone, after all."
Siya's gaze flicked to Aditya—quick, worried.
"I'm sorry," Aditya said, stepping forward. His voice was steady, but rigid. "I can't allow that."
The guard stopped. Slowly turned toward him.
"And may I ask why?"
"Because this is my bus," Aditya replied evenly. "And my captain is injured. I won't permit further interference."
The guard took a step closer.
"You can't stop us."
"Yes, I can, sir," Aditya said, unflinching. "Your guards have already completed the standard check. Anything beyond that violates protocol. I won't risk delays—my crew is exhausted, and the survivors are still in shock."
The two guards exiting the bus exchanged a glance.
The officer studied Aditya for a long moment.
"Hm," he murmured. "No first mate has ever spoken to me like that."
A faint, almost amused smile appeared.
"I suppose that's what happens when you serve under that arrogant girl. She hasn't caused you trouble, has she?"
Every problem he had right now had her name on it.
But Aditya didn't blink.
"Nothing beyond the usual annoyance, sir," he said calmly. "You'd understand—if you knew her."
The officer let out a quiet laugh.
"Yes," he said. "That is her."
He closed the register fully and stepped back.
"I won't extend your delay," he said. Then, after a pause, he added, "You're good, young man. Good enough to wear the captain's insignia someday."
He gestured to the guards.
"Clear the checkpoint."
But just then, the low hum at the checkpoint deepened.
More engines.
Not one. Not two.
Many.
Around twenty—maybe twenty-five—caravan buses rolled in, massive and armored, dwarfing the OG vehicles like predators among strays.
Malisha heard them before she saw them.
She stirred, lifting her head slowly, eyes drifting to the side mirror.
The moment she saw the insignia, her expression changed completely.
Gone was the boredom.
Gone was the calm.
Those caravans belonged to only one person.
Rank Eight. The Hero.
Fresh from the Davila Pearl meeting.
An official ally of the OGs—but ranks followed rules only until rules became inconvenient.
And he had seen Aditya today.
If he hadn't been able to kill him inside Davila Pearl, then here—at an OG checkpoint, surrounded by his own forces—the odds were far worse.
Malisha swore under her breath.
"Shit."
Raghav turned sharply. "What—what are you doing? Sit back down. You're supposed to be asleep. Drugged. Injured."
Malisha was already on her feet.
"I'm going out," she said flatly.
Raghav grabbed her arm. "Malisha—no. If they question you now—"
"Aditya needs to come inside," she cut in, voice low but absolute. "Now."
She met Raghav's eyes for the first time—sharp, urgent.
"If he stays out there," she said, "he might not be able to come back at all."
And with that, she stepped out of the cabin.
Malisha grabbed a pistol and stepped off the bus.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Dweep and the survivors shifted instinctively, forming a loose cover behind her—not ordered, not planned. Just felt.
Outside, Aditya was bent over a clipboard, finishing clearance forms. He looked up mid-signature.
And froze.
Malisha was already walking past him.
"Get inside," she said, voice low and firm. "I'll take it from here."
Before he could argue, she was gone.
She stopped a few meters ahead, straightened despite the fire burning through her side, and lifted her chin.
"General Kumar," Malisha said calmly. "Long time."
Aditya swore under his breath and followed. Siya trailed after him, confused but alert.
He caught Malisha's wrist. "What do you think you're doing, Captain?"
She didn't look at him. "Finishing it."
"I heard you were injured," one of the guards said, staring openly now.
"Go. Inside. Now," Malisha snapped at Aditya—sharp enough to end the discussion. She didn't even acknowledge the general.
Then—
The air changed.
A caravan door slid open.
Rank 8 stepped out.
Massive. Broad-shouldered. Flanked by no less than fifty armed men. He looked like a hero carved from stone—long hair tied back, light beard, a body built for legends.
Nothing about his eyes belonged to one.
Malisha moved without thinking, stepping half a pace in front of Aditya.
That single movement was enough.
Rank 8's gaze snapped to them.
Aditya felt it like pressure on his lungs. He swallowed.
"This is stupid," he whispered urgently. "The lie's gone. He sees me. We've lost control."
"If you'd followed orders," Malisha murmured back, eyes forward, "this wouldn't be happening."
She exhaled once, steadying herself.
"Get back. And remember—you carry Queen Conquera's guarantee. Use it if you have to."
That was the last thing she said to him.
Rank 8 stopped directly in front of her.
Up close, the power was worse. Effortless. Practiced. A man who had never needed permission.
He smiled.
And the smile promised nothing good.
He didn't look at Malisha.
His eyes stayed on Aditya.
"Well," he said mildly, amused. "Do I know you?"
He tilted his head. "I think I do. Casino boy, right?"
"Hero," General Kumar cut in stiffly, "he's under OG jurisdiction. You can't approach him like this. You're forgetting this is OG territory."
Rank 8 didn't even glance at him.
"And I think," he said calmly, "you're forgetting that I'm Rank 8."
He finally looked at the general.
"Wherever I stand is my territory."
Aditya forced his voice steady. "The OGs are guaranteed by Rank 2. So am I. I hope you remember that."
For a split second—
Rank 8 flinched.
Then his smile widened.
He raised his pistol.
Bang.
The shot came without warning. Without drama. Without even a glance.
General Kumar collapsed where he stood, his body hitting the ground a heartbeat after the sound.
Siya screamed.
Weapons rose instantly—OGs on one side, Rank 8's men on the other. More soldiers poured out of the caravans.
They were outnumbered.
Malisha didn't move.
Rank 8 lowered his gun, amused.
"Oops," he said lightly. "Queen-guaranteed personnel."
He scanned the checkpoint lazily. "Where is she, by the way? Still hiding in her club with her little boy toy?"
He smiled again. "Already took care of that."
Aditya's blood went cold.
Rank 8 looked back at him. "Six million on your head, right? Mine's twenty-seven."
He shrugged. "Adding six more sounds worth it."
Silence.
Then—
"You should ask your men to stop moving."
Rank 8 stilled.
Not because of the words.
Because of the voice.
It dragged at memory—command, certainty, something that had once stood across from him and survived.
Slowly, he turned.
Malisha stood beside Aditya, gun lowered, posture relaxed.
Too relaxed.
Recognition flickered in his eyes.
"Well," he said carefully, studying her, "you're awfully calm for someone standing in a killing zone."
Malisha met his gaze.
Didn't blink.
"I'm the OG captain," she said evenly. "And this boy is under my command."
Rank 8 hummed. "Just your command?"
His eyes sharpened. "Nothing like a guarantee?"
She smiled faintly. "Careful. You might regret asking questions you can't undo."
Rank 8 laughed softly.
"Oh, about the land mines?" He glanced at one of his men.
The man gave a thumbs-up.
"They're under my control," Rank 8 said pleasantly. "So you watch your step."
"I hope," Malisha replied calmly, "you don't do something you won't live long enough to regret."
Rank 8 sighed theatrically. "Such confidence."
He gestured.
Men moved instantly.
Some surrounded them. Others stormed the bus. Black cloth bags were pulled out.
One by one, they were shoved over heads.
Malisha heard shouting. Struggling. Screams.
Her hands were bound.
Something leaned close to her left ear.
A whisper.
"Checkmate, my Queen."
The caravans began to move.
Malisha went silently.
Calmly.
Already counting moves.