The attendant entered the room, carrying an additional chair, and carefully placed it beside Rathore's seat. Ayaan and Rohit exchanged puzzled glances—why was there a need for another chair? Neither of them voiced their confusion, but the unspoken question hung between them.
Rathore leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk before his gaze settled on them. His earlier irritation seemed to fade slightly as he spoke in a firm yet composed tone. "Congratulations," he said, his eyes sharp. "You both have met our expectations."
Ayaan and Rohit remained silent, their confusion deepening. The words sounded like praise, but coming from Rathore, there was always more beneath the surface.
Rathore leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze shifting between Ayaan and Rohit. "Once again, you both have met our expectations," he stated, his tone measured yet firm. There was no hint of praise in his voice—just a simple acknowledgment, as if meeting expectations was the bare minimum required.
He pulled a file from the stack on his desk, flipping it open with a calculated glance. "Out of 150 trainees, only 15 received awards," he continued. "And among them, only three truly met our expectations." His fingers tapped lightly against the desk before his gaze settled on them again. "You two are among them." Closing the file with a soft thud, he added, "But don't let it get to your heads. This is just the beginning."
Rathore leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze flickering between Ayaan and Rohit. "Congratulations to both of you. You've once again met expectations for Project M," he said, his voice steady but devoid of any real praise. "However, Ayaan, I'm sorry to inform you that you won't be part of Project M. Don't ask why, and don't question the decision."
Ayaan, unwavering, simply nodded. "Understood," he responded in a tone that was almost too calm, as if the news had little effect on him.
After a brief silence, Ayaan broke it with another question. "What exactly is Project M? How is it different from the missions we've been involved with?"
Rathore opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a calm, almost serene voice interrupted, "He can tell you about Project M, but he doesn't want to."
All heads turned toward the door, where Aditya Rajan, the president, stood, his posture regal and composed. Behind him, the bodyguard—slightly chubby but imposing in his own way—kept his gaze fixed forward, his presence adding extra weight to the room.
Aditya the president entered the room, his calm presence filling the space. His bodyguard followed closely, and as they walked in, both Rathore and Ayaan immediately stood in respect. The atmosphere shifted, the quiet authority of Aditya palpable in every step he took.
Rohit, however, remained seated, his arrogance still evident as he leaned back in his chair. The bodyguard, standing near the door, turned his cold, murderous gaze toward Rohit. The tension in the room escalated, the unspoken threat clear in his eyes. Rohit, sensing the shift, finally stood up, his previous arrogance giving way to a hint of unease.
Rathore gestured toward the chair and invited Aditya to sit. Aditya took his seat with grace, his demeanor unruffled by the tension in the room. He glanced at the others and calmly instructed, "Everyone, take a seat." As the others complied, he turned to his bodyguard. "Rudra ,Go and close the door. Guard it from the outside." The bodyguard nodded and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
As everyone settled into their seats, Aditya's calm voice filled the room, but there was a certain weight to his words. "Congratulations to all of you for your efforts," he said, his eyes scanning each of them with measured intensity.
When his gaze landed on Ayaan, his tone subtly shifted. "Ayaan, I regret to inform you that we will not be taking you into Project M. You see, the decision isn't solely based on your performance. To bring anyone into Project M, we require the approval of four pivotal figures. If even one of them rejects, it's final. There's no negotiation."
A heavy silence fell, the tension palpable as his words sank in. Aditya continued, his voice unwavering. "Now, as for Project M, let me give you two answers. First—yes, it is unlike any mission or operation you've ever faced. It's more dangerous than anything you could imagine. But second—forget about it. Don't ask. Don't dwell on it. The more you think about Project M, the more it will weigh on your mind and stress you. It's not something you need to know, and it's certainly not something you want to know."
After a couple of minutes, Aditya's voice was calm, but there was a subtle authority in it. "Ayaan, please, would you step outside? I need to have a word with Rohit and Rathore in private."
Ayaan nodded, his expression neutral as he stood up and quietly exited the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, he was greeted by the sight of Isha, who was standing by the hallway, holding her phone up as she took a selfie. Her laughter echoed lightly through the corridor as she playfully teased the bodyguard, who was stationed nearby, clearly annoyed.
Isha noticed Ayaan standing in the doorway and flashed a mischievous grin. "Took you long enough," she remarked with a smirk. "I was starting to think you and Rohit were in there for the last day celebration, but it looks like I'll be waiting for both of you at the campfire tonight. You coming, or should I expect another long delay?"
----
As Ayaan stepped out of the room, the bodyguard silently closed the door behind him, his expression stoic and unchanging. The silence that followed felt suffocating, like the air itself had thickened in anticipation of what was to come.
Inside, the tension was palpable. Aditya the president, calm and unbothered, sat in his chair, his posture straight and composed as if the weight of the situation didn't faze him in the least. Rathore, sitting across from him, was a stone, unreadable and neutral, observing everything without comment. Rohit, however, was a different story. His anger was a storm waiting to erupt, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at Aditya.
Finally, the pressure built to a breaking point, and Rohit's fury poured out. "Stop your damn safe game, you old geezer!" he snapped, voice dripping with rage as he shot an accusatory glare at Aditya. "You're toying with us like we're nothing!" His words sliced through the silence, but Aditya remained unfazed.
Aditya, with a slight, almost imperceptible sigh, spoke in a calm, even tone. "I know exactly why you're angry, Rohit," he said, his voice carrying an unsettling assurance. The tension in the room deepened, the weight of his words settling over them, before the chapter ended with an air of finality.
Rohit's frustration boiled over as he glared at Aditya Rajan. "Oh, you know why I'm angry? Then why the hell did you waste our nine months? Why did you put us in these training groups? And why the hell did you involve her with Project M?" His voice trembled with raw emotion, the bitterness in his words unmistakable.
The room seemed to grow colder, the tension thickening with every passing second. Rathore's stoic neutrality did little to ease the palpable unease. Aditya Rajan, however, remained calm, his expression unchanged as he quietly regarded Rohit, fully aware of the underlying conflict.
Rohit's outburst hung in the air, unanswered, but the silence that followed was deafening. The weight of his words lingered, and for a moment, it felt as if the entire room was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the silence. The stillness was suffocating, adding to the intensity of the standoff.
Finally, Rohit's voice broke through the heavy silence again, more pointed and full of restrained anger. "You're right. I admit it," he said, his gaze fixed on Aditya Rajan. "Both of us—me and her—took your help to stay out of the public eye. We had no choice but to let you shield us from the fallout of that tragedy. We were forced into the shadows just to avoid the nuisance and the pain that would've come with facing the truth of what happened at Nu…" His words were biting, but his underlying helplessness seeped through.
Rohit's anger, already simmering beneath the surface, erupted once again. His fist slammed down hard onto the table, making the surface rattle with the force of his frustration. "Why did you involve her in Project M?" he demanded, his voice rising in a sharp, almost desperate tone. The room seemed to grow heavier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on the group, tightening with every word.
Rathore, already on edge from the tension in the room, shot to his feet in a flash. His hand rose, ready to strike, his expression a mixture of rage and disbelief. But before he could act, Aditya Rajan raised a hand, signaling Rathore to stop. His voice was calm, almost eerily so, as he spoke, "It's her decision." The words, simple yet decisive, cut through the air, and for a brief moment, the room fell silent.
Rohit, caught off guard by Aditya Rajan's response, found himself rendered speechless for a split second. He had expected more—an explanation, perhaps even some justification for what was happening. But the response was clear and unwavering. Slowly, Rohit's anger began to give way to a different emotion: confusion.
Breaking the silence, Rohit's voice was now tinged with bitterness. "I hate to admit it," he said, his eyes darkening, "but I'm just as talented as Ayaan. That's why maybe I was selected for Project M, right?" His gaze flickered toward Aditya Rajan, then to Rathore, before settling back on the table. "But what about her? She didn't even meet the expectations of this training. So why the hell was she chosen?" Rohit's face, once filled with fiery anger, now bore a hint of sadness, a vulnerability that he wasn't used to showing. "Once again," he admitted, his voice softer but still laced with frustration, "I admit your help. But why are you playing this safe game by selecting her instead of Ayaan?"
Aditya Rajan's voice remained steady, calm as ever. "I already told you rohit, it's her decision," he replied. "Training is just one aspect of selecting individuals for Project M. There are other factors involved, but I am not at liberty to disclose them at this time. The training you've been undergoing is not just to keep you physically ready—it is meant to prepare you mentally as well. If you want to understand why she's involved with Project M, perhaps you should ask her directly."
He glanced at Rohit, his tone becoming more assertive. "And now, Rohit, please leave. I don't wish to discuss this any further. If you think I'm playing a safe game with you, then you are wrong. Now, leave."
Rohit's fingers tightened into a fist, frustration and confusion seeping through his clenched jaw. His gaze hardened, but after a few moments of tense silence, he turned sharply and left the room
. As the door clicked shut behind him, the bodyguard, with his usual impassive expression, locked it once again.
------
The room settled into an almost suffocating quiet, as the weight of the conversation lingered in the air.
After a prolonged silence, Rathore's voice broke the stillness. "Why did you come to his ceremony? Why did you remain silent when Rohit was blaming you? And why, after all of that, did you choose to disqualify Ayaan from Project M at the last minute?" His words were pointed, a mix of confusion and frustration, directed at Aditya Rajan, the president.
Aditya Rajan did not respond immediately. Instead, he moved toward the window, his gaze drifting outside. He watched as Isha and Ayaan walked toward the campsite, with Rohit trailing behind them.
His face softened as he gazed at the scene before him, his thoughts far removed from the present.
Finally, he spoke, his voice calm, though there was a hint of sorrow in his tone. "What Rohit said is true. I am playing a safe game, but it's not with Rohit or Ayaan. It's with fate." His eyes lingered on the moon, a faraway sadness in his expression. "In my life, I've made countless mistakes—some intentional, others not—and they have led to failure. The outbreak of that war, the clash between them, the fall of the shield, and the tragedy at Numn University… These are the failures that haunt me."
The words seemed to weigh heavily on him. "I'm just a normal, Ordinary human being. I wanted to give up, but I couldn't. And now, I'm doing everything I can to avoid making those mistakes again."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the moon as he continued, lost in his own thoughts. "To keep my promise, to maintain the stalemate in that contract… I will definitely play a safe game with fate." He took a deep breath, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "For the sake of my promise, for the sake of Slatemate in that contract and for the sake of stopping same mistakes, I will definitely avoid Ayaan in Project M."
Rathore's eyes fell, his expression unreadable, as he shifted his gaze toward the moon. Aditya Rajan stood in silence for a few moments longer, then added, "Ayaan Ranade—no, Ayaan Veerendra… please, don't involve yourself with Project M. If you do, you will definitely regret it. For now, enjoy the remaining happy days you have."
With that the weight of Aditya Rajan's words hanging in the air.