Time seemed to freeze.
Rudra. Anvi. Bhairav. Exhausted. Injured. Trapped in an elevator.
Malhotra. Fresh. Confident. Blocking their only exit.
The security guards stepped forward. Large men. Ex-military, by their bearing. Not campus security. Something worse.
"I have to admit," Malhotra said, "you've exceeded every expectation. Most subjects break within hours. You've lasted all night. Impressive."
"We're not subjects," Rudra said flatly. "We're people."
"People are subjects. All of us. Variables in the grand experiment of existence." Malhotra gestured to the guards. "Take them back to—"
Anvi moved.
Fast. Precise.
She grabbed the fire extinguisher from the elevator wall and sprayed it directly at the nearest guard's face.
He stumbled back, blinded.
Anvi didn't stop. She swung the extinguisher like a bat, connecting with the second guard's knee.
He went down hard.
"RUN!" she shouted.
Rudra and Bhairav didn't hesitate. They bolted past Malhotra, who reached for Rudra but missed.
Anvi threw the extinguisher at Malhotra, forcing him to dodge, then followed.
They ran through corridors. Past empty offices. Past locked doors.
Behind them, alarms blared. Footsteps pounded. Voices shouted.
"This way!" Bhairav gasped, pointing to a side exit.
They burst through the door.
Into the night air.
They were outside. The main compound. Buildings silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky.
"The dorms," Rudra said. "We need witnesses. People. Safety in numbers."
They ran across the quad. Past the banyan trees. Past the mess hall.
And straight into more security.
Three guards. Blocking the path to the dorms.
"Dead end," Bhairav panted.
"No," Anvi said, eyes hard. "End of running."
She stepped forward, fists clenched.
One guard laughed. "Little girl thinks she can fight—"
Anvi didn't let him finish.
She moved like water. Fluid. Controlled. Martial arts training evident in every motion.
A strike to the solar plexus. The guard doubled over.
A knee to the face. He went down.
The second guard rushed her. She sidestepped, grabbed his arm, used his momentum against him. Judo throw. He hit the ground hard.
The third guard pulled out a baton.
Rudra tackled him from the side.
They hit the ground together. Wrestling. Grappling.
The guard was stronger. But Rudra was desperate.
He found pressure points. Struck nerve clusters. Used every dirty trick he'd ever learned.
The guard's grip loosened.
Rudra grabbed the baton, twisted it free, and swung.
Connected with the guard's temple.
He went limp.
Rudra stood, breathing hard.
Anvi was already pulling Bhairav toward the dorms. "Move!"
They ran the last stretch.
Burst through the dorm entrance.
Into chaos.
Students everywhere. Awake. Confused. Teachers trying to restore order.
The alarms had woken everyone.
"What's happening?"
"Is there a fire?"
"Where's Sneha?"
Rudra pushed through the crowd, heading for the common room. He needed people. Witnesses. Evidence.
He pulled out his phone. Still had battery. Still had the photos from the archive room.
He connected to the dorm Wi-Fi. Started uploading.
Everything. Every photo. Every piece of evidence.
To cloud storage. To email. To every platform he could think of.
Anvi grabbed a teacher—Professor Desai, the geology instructor. Kind. Reasonable.
"Professor, you need to listen. Dr. Malhotra—he's been experimenting on students. There's a facility under the old wing. He's holding Sneha there. We have proof—"
"Slow down," Desai said, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
"Project Rekha," Rudra said, showing him the phone. "Look. Files. Recordings. Missing students. He's been doing this for years."
Desai's eyes widened as he scrolled through the photos. "This... this can't be real."
"It is," Bhairav said. "We were there. He tried to—"
The lights went out.
Complete blackness.
Emergency lighting kicked in. Red. Dim.
And through the speakers—every speaker in the building—Malhotra's voice.
"Attention, students and faculty. There's been a security breach. Three students have broken into restricted areas and are now spreading false information. For your safety, please remain in your rooms. Do not engage with them. Security is en route."
"He's lying!" Anvi shouted. "He's trying to—"
But students were already backing away. Scared. Confused. Following authority.
Desai looked torn. "I... I need to verify this. Contact the principal—"
"The principal's part of it," Rudra said. "They all are. Anyone who's been here long enough."
"That's absurd—"
The door burst open.
Malhotra. More security guards. And behind them, the principal.
Looking grim.
"There they are," Malhotra said calmly. "Apprehend them. Carefully. They're clearly experiencing a psychological break."
The guards moved forward.
Rudra's mind raced. They were outnumbered. Outmaneuvered.
But he still had one card to play.
"EVERYONE STOP!" Rudra shouted, holding up his phone. "This is live streaming. Right now. To the internet. Everyone's watching."
Malhotra froze.
"You shut off the Wi-Fi," Rudra continued, bluffing. "But I already uploaded everything. Photos. Documents. Proof of what you've been doing. It's out there. And if anything happens to us—if we disappear—everyone will know why."
It was a lie. The upload hadn't finished. The Wi-Fi had cut off too soon.
But Malhotra didn't know that.
His calm facade cracked. Just slightly.
"You're bluffing," Malhotra said.
"Am I?" Rudra met his eyes. "Are you willing to bet your entire operation on that?"
Silence.
Every student watching. Every teacher waiting.
Then a new voice. From the back of the crowd.
"He's not bluffing."
Everyone turned.
A girl stepped forward. Local student. Rudra had seen her before but didn't know her name.
She held up her own phone. "I received the files. Twenty minutes ago. I've been uploading them to social media. They're already going viral."
Another student raised their hand. "I got them too."
"Me too."
"Same here."
Karan, Rudra realized. The ghost in the machine. He'd sent the files to multiple students.
Created redundancy.
Ensured the truth would spread.
Malhotra's face went pale.
The principal stepped forward. "This is... there must be some misunderstanding—"
"There's no misunderstanding," Anvi said coldly. "You knew. You've always known. You helped him cover it up."
"That's not—"
"My sister," Anvi continued, voice breaking. "Meera Rao. You told my parents she ran away. But she didn't. She was murdered. Here. By him."
She pointed at Malhotra.
"And you helped hide it."
The room erupted. Students shouting. Teachers arguing. Chaos.
Malhotra tried to leave.
But Rudra grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere."
"Let go of me," Malhotra hissed.
"No."
Security moved to intervene.
But Professor Desai stepped between them. "Wait. Everyone wait. If there's even a chance this is true... we need to investigate. Properly."
Another teacher nodded. "Agreed. No one leaves until we sort this out."
The tide was turning.
Malhotra saw it. The loss of control. The collapse of his decade-long operation.
And he snapped.
He pulled a syringe from his pocket—filled with something clear—and lunged at Rudra.
Anvi intercepted.
The syringe caught her arm instead.
She gasped. Stumbled.
Rudra caught her. "ANVI!"
Malhotra tried to run.
But Bhairav, recovered enough to act, tripped him.
Malhotra hit the ground.
Security finally moved. But this time, to restrain him.
Not the students.
Him.
Rudra held Anvi as she slumped against him. "Stay with me. What was in that syringe?"
"D-don't know," Anvi slurred. "Feels... cold..."
"Someone call an ambulance!" Rudra shouted.
Students were already on their phones. Emergency services. Police. Parents.
The story was out.
And there was no putting it back.
As Anvi's eyes fluttered closed, she whispered, "Did we... win?"
Rudra held her tighter. "Yeah. We won."
But it didn't feel like victory.
It felt like survival.
Barely.