The echoing footsteps sent a chill down Satya's spine. The walls of the forgotten room seemed to close in around them, trapping them in history's grip.
"We have to move—now," Virendra whispered harshly, already reaching for the door.
Aryan held up a hand, motioning for silence. He pressed his ear against the wooden frame, his breathing slow and measured. "They're close. Too close."
Satya's grip tightened on the bag holding Veer Meghawal's letters. The past was finally revealing its secrets, but would they live long enough to uncover them?
Saanvi's fingers curled around his wrist. "We can't go back the way we came."
"Then we find another way," Satya said, his voice firm despite the fear clawing at his chest.
Virendra exhaled sharply. "I know a passage—it leads outside, but we have to be fast."
Without hesitation, they followed him. The narrow hallway was suffocating, the flickering torchlight barely illuminating the ancient stone walls. Every step felt like an eternity, their ears straining for the inevitable sound of pursuit.
Then—shouting. The intruders had found the room.
A voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air. "Find them. They can't have gone far."
Satya's pulse pounded. The walls seemed to tremble as the heavy boots of their pursuers filled the corridor behind them.
"There," Virendra hissed, pointing at a small archway at the end of the passage. The stone frame was cracked with age, barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through.
Aryan went first, pushing through into the dark beyond. Saanvi followed, then Virendra. Satya was the last, his heart hammering as he turned back for a final glance—just as the pursuers rounded the corner.
Their eyes locked.
A man at the front—a broad-shouldered figure with an expression of cold authority—raised a gun. Devashish Arora's men.
Satya dove into the passage just as the gun fired. The bullet grazed the stone wall beside him, sending dust and shards flying.
"Go! GO!" Virendra pulled him forward as the echo of gunfire filled the tunnel behind them.
They ran blindly through the passage, the weight of the letters in Satya's bag pressing against his back. The walls curved, the air growing damp. Then, suddenly—the ground beneath them gave way.
Satya's breath caught as his feet slipped. The passage had collapsed further ahead.
Virendra cursed. "We're trapped."
Their only exit was now a pit of rubble and darkness. And behind them—the footsteps grew louder.
Saanvi turned to Satya. "We have to fight."
His fingers curled around the strap of his bag. They had risked too much to let the truth die in this suffocating corridor.
If Devashish Arora wanted to bury the past—
They would make sure it rose again.