Vihan’s breath caught in his throat. The grainy video looped on the screen, his mother’s figure bound to a chair, her face pale and bruised, but unmistakably alive.

  His pulse roared in his ears.

  She wasn’t gone. She had never been gone.

  Zara’s voice was the first to cut through the suffocating silence. “Is this real?”

  The man in the suit—the Council’s puppet master—folded his hands behind his back. “It’s as real as the book you’re carrying.”

  Vihan barely registered his words. His vision blurred, every muscle in his body locked in place as he stared at the screen.

  “Asha…” His voice cracked. “Did you know?”

  Asha swallowed hard. “I suspected. But I didn’t know until now.”

  Vihan turned sharply to the man. “Where is she?”

  The man exhaled slowly, as if speaking to a stubborn child. “She’s safe. And she will remain safe—if you make the right choice.”

  Vihan’s fingers curled into fists. “And what exactly is the ‘right choice’?”

  The man gestured toward the bag slung over Vihan’s shoulder. “You already know.”

  Vihan’s grip tightened. “The book.”

  The man nodded. “Hand it over. Give up this ridiculous pursuit of truth, and she lives.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Vihan’s heart pounded. Every part of him screamed that this was a trick. That the Council never made clean deals. That the second he handed them the Bhagavad Gita, his mother’s fate would be sealed.

  But she was alive.

  That changed everything.

  Zara took a slow step forward, her voice low. “Vihan. Think. If your mother had the book and never gave it up, why would you?”

  Vihan’s mind was a hurricane of emotion. His mother had died—no, she had survived—protecting the Bhagavad Gita. If she had believed it was worth that sacrifice, could he really betray her now?

  But if she was still alive, he could save her.

  The man’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Your mother carried that book across continents. She hid it, ran from us, fought to protect it. And for what? A prophecy that spells the end of the world?” He shook his head. “She made the wrong choice, Vihan. You don’t have to.”

  Vihan’s breath was shallow. His fingers twitched toward the bag’s zipper.

  And then—

  The screen flickered.

  Static crackled across the image.

  Zara turned sharply. “What’s happening?”

  The man’s expression darkened as he gestured for one of his agents to check the monitor.

  Then the screen stabilized, and the grainy video resumed.

  Only this time—

  His mother moved.

  Her head lifted slightly, her eyes locking onto the camera.

  And then, she spoke.

  “Vihan… don’t trust them.”

  Vihan’s body went cold.

  The man’s face twisted into a scowl. “Shut it down.”

  But before his agents could react, his mother’s voice came through again, louder, stronger.

  “Run.”

  The screen cut to black.

  For a split second, the world stood still.

  Then Vihan moved.

  Before the Council’s agents could react, he ripped the Bhagavad Gita from his bag and swung it like a weapon, slamming it into the closest guard’s face.

  Zara was already a step ahead, flipping a knife from her belt and driving it into another attacker’s leg.

  Asha hesitated for only a moment before she grabbed a chair and smashed it against the control panel, plunging the room into darkness.

  The man in the suit’s voice rang out through the chaos. “Stop them!”

  Vihan grabbed Asha’s wrist. “We have to go—now!”

  Zara was already at the door, taking down another agent with a swift elbow to the throat. “You finally made a good decision, genius. Let’s move!”

  The alarms blared. Red lights flooded the corridor as the facility locked down.

  But Vihan didn’t care.

  His mother was alive.

  And he was going to get her back.