The rain drummed against the large windows of Varun's office, a relentless reminder of the time slipping through his fingers. Three months had passed, and still, he had found nothing. Alia, one of the 15 targets standing in his way to consolidate absolute control, remained a complete enigma. No documents, no sightings, not even a trace of her existence beyond a name. It infuriated him.
Varun sat at his desk, which had become an organized chaos of files, tablets, and maps. His fingers tapped rapidly against a virtual interface, flicking through the hundreds of documents he had already combed through. His focus was intense, but even he could feel the pressure building within. For someone with the ability to bypass the very laws of nature, this fruitless search was a personal affront.
"Alia… Where are you hiding?" he muttered, his voice low but dripping with frustration. He hadn't slept properly in weeks. The dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled state of his office were evidence of his deteriorating mental state.
The exhaustion was starting to show in his behavior too. His advisors had learned to tread lightly around him, lest they become the outlet for his growing frustration. And still, no one dared question him—after all, this was Varun, the man who had split India into two regions with a mere flex of his power. But even power, it seemed, had limits when it came to knowledge.
Three Months Ago: The Beginning of the Search
Varun's mission to track Alia began just after his defeat of Kunal Khandelwal, the ruthless businessman who controlled MerryWeather Private Limited. With Kunal's death, the private military company had fallen into Varun's hands. But as powerful as MerryWeather once was, it had lost all purpose. Without Kunal, the organization had no leader, no direction.
Varun found some grim satisfaction in shutting it down, though. It was symbolic—a closure of one chapter of his campaign. The dismantling of MerryWeather was swift, yet even the company's extensive intelligence networks provided nothing on Alia. No records, no files. It was as though she never existed. Varun tore through the former organization's data like a man possessed, deleting everything that didn't serve him.
Present Day: Unraveling
As the days ticked by, Varun's obsession with Alia began to affect his routine. His workouts became longer and more intense, as if by exhausting his body, he could push the mounting pressure out of his mind. But the harder he worked, the more fruitless it felt.
"Varun, you need to slow down," his advisor, Raj, cautiously approached him one morning. Varun was doing an aggressive set of pull-ups, sweat pouring down his face, muscles strained. "It's been three months. You've destroyed everything and everyone in your path. Maybe this one requires a different approach."
Varun dropped from the bar, his breathing heavy, and shot Raj a glare. "Do you think I haven't tried everything? There's nothing on Alia. Not a whisper. It's impossible. Nobody can be that invisible."
Raj held his ground, knowing Varun's temper could flare in an instant. "Maybe she's not someone you can track through the usual channels. You've killed powerful people, dismantled organizations. Perhaps Alia is hidden for a reason that goes beyond the usual."
Varun wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. "I've done everything. Checked every last lead." His voice was quieter now, but the tension in his muscles remained. "Alia… she's a ghost. But I'll find her. She's one of the 15, and that means she'll make a mistake. And when she does…"
Raj stayed silent, knowing better than to offer more advice. The Varun of today wasn't the same as three months ago. This Varun was more driven, but also more fragile, more human in his frustration.
World War III: The Bigger Picture
Amid Varun's obsession, the world was still on fire. World War III had escalated in the background, but for Varun, it was just another stage for his power. Nations had begun taking notice of his growing influence, though many dared not challenge him directly. After splitting India, Varun's domination had expanded, though not without consequence. Alliances were formed, some hostile to his cause, others merely cautious.
Reports from his intel came in daily—military movements, secret alliances, betrayals. The chaos of war was like a storm outside his window, but Varun remained indifferent. As long as nothing threatened his immediate goals, the war was just another factor to manipulate. He was still one step ahead of the world's most powerful governments.
The Breaking Point
The frustration boiled over one late evening. Varun, who had spent yet another night fruitlessly searching through data, grabbed a tablet in frustration and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor. The noise echoed through the empty corridors of his base.
"Enough!" he shouted into the darkness. "I will find you, Alia."
But even in his rage, something inside him shifted. The sleepless nights, the endless search—it wasn't sustainable. Varun knew he couldn't keep going like this. He had to regroup, recalibrate. Maybe Raj was right. Maybe Alia wasn't someone who could be found through normal means. She had to be hiding behind something deeper, more complex.
As he stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the shattered pieces of technology on the floor, a strange calm washed over him. He would find her. Of that, he was certain. But not like this.
"Tomorrow," he muttered to himself, "Tomorrow, I'll approach this differently."
And with that, Varun finally allowed himself a few hours of rest.
The Closing of MerryWeather
The final days of MerryWeather Private Limited had come and gone. Varun had absorbed what was useful and discarded the rest. The company was nothing more than a memory now, another casualty of his relentless drive. Kunal's death had left a power vacuum, but no one dared step in. Varun's reputation preceded him.
Even the remnants of MerryWeather's private army had scattered, knowing better than to challenge their new master. But Varun didn't care about them. All that mattered now was Alia, and the ticking clock in his head that told him time was running out.
He stared out the window as the rain poured harder, his mind already planning his next move. The world was his, but not yet in the way he wanted.
Not until he found Alia.