Aanchal pressed her forehead against the cool glass of her room's window, staring at the Delhi traffic rushing below. The horns, the smoke, the vendors shouting for customers, it all felt maddeningly normal. Normal in a way she could no longer believe in.
"God, what even is normal anymore?" she muttered, pulling her knees up against her chest.
A laugh escaped her, sharp and bitter, surprising even herself. Just a few years ago, she was the girl everyone in class remembered for cracking jokes at the worst times. The one who doodled in margins, sang out of tune on purpose, and somehow got away with handing in assignments at the last second. Bubbly, careless, untouchable, that was her mask.
But that mask had cracked the day she and her friends had been dragged into that place, into Adhivita's world. They had fought, bled, nearly died, and then… they were spat back into Delhi, as if nothing had happened. No one around them even knew. The world had turned the page like their struggle was just a misprint.
And now? Now a billion-dollar company was watching them like insects under glass. SynerTech, smooth suits, polite smiles, and something far uglier behind their glass towers. They had marked her. They knew she was part of something.
She hugged her knees tighter.
"And I'm just supposed to… sit? Hide? Let them watch us?"
Her voice broke in frustration, echoing in the small room.
The others had been carrying the weight, Shivam especially. Always serious, always planning, always bracing for the next hit. She admired him, but it cut her too, seeing him hollow-eyed with tension. And Bhumika, sweet, strange Bhumika, looked frailer every time Aanchal saw her.
…And what about her? She was the "bubbly one." The comic relief. The one they didn't need to worry about.
But late at night, when her house's roof was empty, she still took out the practice blade. Hours of slashing drills, footwork, control of breath, things no one in her class ever imagined she cared about. Everyone saw jokes and smiles, but under it all, she was steady. Steel, hidden in cloth.
She dug her nails into her palms until her hands trembled. "No. Not anymore. I'm not staying in the corner while everyone else drowns."
…Her reflection in the window didn't look bubbly anymore. It looked sharp, wary, dangerous. Like the blade she had practiced with a thousand times, waiting for the right cut.
"No. Not anymore. I'm not staying in the corner while everyone else drowns."
She got up abruptly, pacing the room. Her slippers slapped against the tiled floor. She needed a way in, some way to fight back. Not with fists, she wasn't Shivam. Not with visions, she wasn't Bhumika. But she could think. She could pretend. She could slip into places where fists and visions couldn't go.
As if on cue, the muted TV mounted on the wall flickered to a corporate jingle. She glanced at it absently and froze.
On the screen, a glossy commercial showed well-dressed young men and women walking confidently through a glass-and-steel office building. The SynerTech logo spun on the bottom corner.
A voice-over spoke in its smooth baritone: "SynerTech: empowering the future, together. Apply today for our internship program at the Delhi Head Office, Chanakyapuri. Shape tomorrow, with us."
Aanchal's lips parted. A wild, reckless thought slammed into her head.
"…An internship?"
Her first instinct was to scoff. What kind of suicide mission was that? Walking straight into the lion's den?
But the thought didn't go away. It sharpened instead, taking shape. If she could get in, even as just a name in their system, she could see. Hear things. Steal glimpses of what they were hiding. No one would expect the laughing, scatterbrained girl to pull off something like that.
Her reflection in the window stared back at her, hair tied up messily, oversized hoodie slipping off her shoulder, eyes shadowed by sleepless nights.
She muttered at her reflection, almost as if daring it: "Yeah. You're going to walk right into their building."
Her heart thudded, both in fear and in exhilaration.
But how? She wasn't stupid, SynerTech would have her real name flagged. No chance they'd let Aanchal through their doors.
Her mind raced, searching, until a single face surfaced: Mansi. Rathod's girl. A hacker, fixer, document-forger, whatever term you wanted to slap on her. They had connected quietly weeks ago, exchanging numbers in case things ever got too dangerous.
Aanchal pulled out her Burner phone and opened their last chat. She typed: "Mansi… I need an identity. A new one. Something they can't trace. Can you do it?"
The typing dots blinked back at her. Seconds dragged like hours. Then the reply came, sharp and unhesitating:
"Tell me the name you want to use."
Aanchal's lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. The name came to her instantly, heavy with irony, like a dare to fate.
"Adhivita," she whispered. The world they had left behind. The name of her friend in the place that had nearly killed them and changed them forever.
Her reflection in the glass didn't look bubbly anymore. It looked sharp, wary, dangerous.
"Alright, SynerTech," she breathed, a tremor of both fear and defiance in her chest. "Let's see what you're hiding."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she typed it in. The three dots blinked, then vanished. A minute later, a reply came:
"It's done. Check your email in two hours."
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Two hours stretched like eternity. She spent most of it pacing her cramped hostel room, her fingers twitching as if gripping a sword hilt. That was the thing training had taught her: patience. Waiting for the right opening, not rushing into a swing that would leave her exposed. She remembered her trainer's voice during practice: "A blade is nothing without balance, Aanchal. You don't win with wild cuts; you win when you know exactly when to strike."
This was her strike.
When the email finally arrived, she scrolled through the attachments. Documents crisp enough to fool any clerk. ID cards, a fabricated college enrollment letter, even a forged student transcript. Everything branded with her new name: Adhivita Vyer.
She whispered the name to herself, tasting it like steel between her teeth.