The atmosphere in the compartment grew thick with tension. The moment the leader spoke, Vikram froze. The fear that gripped him was palpable, not just his own but an ancient, primal fear—something that hadn't been felt by humanity in eons. His instincts screamed to run, but his body obeyed, sitting next to the figure without a word.
The leader's eyes glowed a menacing red, his tall frame casting an intimidating shadow. He stood six feet tall, his long, dark hair falling to his shoulders. A red-black mask covered half his face, his glowing eyes peering through. In each hand, he gripped a strange weapon, resembling drumsticks, their tips glowing with a bright red diamond light.
"You can say I am the leader of the Uncanny Valley agents," the leader said, his voice cold, mechanical—like the hum of a machine.
Vikram, his heart pounding, finally found his voice. "What do you want from me?"
The leader raised a finger to his lips, a quiet 'shh' escaping him. His gaze never wavered, as if reading every thought in Vikram's mind. "Shh… Please, swallow slowly. We are discussing something important."
Beside them, a woman, drenched in sweat, nodded her head quickly, eyes wide with fear. She didn't speak, merely trembling in her seat.
The leader turned back to Vikram. "Vikram Ananta, isn't it? Are you not feeling ashamed right now?"
Vikram blinked, his confusion clear. "Huh? Me? Why?"
The leader closed his eyes briefly, as if reflecting on something, before opening them again, the red gleam in his gaze sharp enough to cut through the air. "I ordered Nightmare to protect you. He kept you safe until you turned eighteen, saved you from kidnappings, stopped bullies from terrorizing you, even protected you from a girl in your neighborhood who was... touching you. Do you understand what he did for you?"
Vikram's breath caught in his throat. "And you think I should feel guilty for that?"
The leader's eyes narrowed as his voice grew colder, each word piercing the air like a blade. "Yes. Nightmare did all of that to keep you alive. He treated you like something valuable to protect, and yet, you killed him. He killed your grandmother, didn't he? And for that reason, you killed him. Revenge. But now, when the roles are reversed, when it's your turn to face the consequences of your actions, you refuse to take responsibility. Why?"
Vikram stood up suddenly, his fists clenched, his voice trembling but fierce. "No! He should've come after me if he wanted revenge. Not my grandmother!"
The leader's gaze hardened. "Hmm, understandable. So, he killed your grandmother. That's the reason you killed him. But you know... Nayan wanted to confront you. I stopped him. If it were up to him, he would have killed you the moment he had the chance—emotionally driven, sure, but still effective. We need you alive, Vikram. But if we look at it from Nayan's perspective, he would've been justified in killing you. You killed Nightmare because he killed your grandmother. By the same logic, Nayan would be justified in killing someone precious to you."
Vikram's eyes widened as the words struck him like a blow. His chest tightened, a mix of anger and confusion rising within him. "What... What are you saying? You think I deserve to die too?"
The leader's voice was colder than ever, like ice scraping across metal. "I'm saying that in the end, you will have to face the consequences of your actions. Your choices matter, Vikram. And those who want revenge, who have been wronged, will act on it. Even if it means taking someone precious from you."
Vikram's breath hitched, but his eyes hardened with resolve. "I'm not afraid of that. You think you can manipulate me with guilt? That won't work."
The leader smirked, unfazed. "It's not about manipulation. It's about reality. Now, let's see if you can survive the consequences of your own decisions."
Before Vikram could respond, the leader moved with lightning speed, punching him in the face. Vikram stumbled back, but before he could regain his footing, the leader tackled him, pinning him effortlessly to the ground. Vikram struggled, but it was no use.
The leader's voice was a low growl. "Are you really the one who defeated my strongest agent? Let's see if you're truly that powerful." vikram closed his eyes, muttering a strange incantation under his breath. "Triṁśat-siṁhāsanaṁ māṁ parīkṣya varaṁ dadātu."
Vikram's body erupted with golden light, a shimmering aura radiating from him. He gripped the leader's hands, overpowering him with a force that stunned them both. The entire compartment of the train seemed to glow with his power, the golden light illuminating the entire space.
Vikram's aura intensified, and with a powerful kick, he sent the leader flying. The leader's body crashed against the train wall, his form leaving an imprint on the metal surface. Vikram's eyes glowed with an almost divine light, a golden ring around his pupils as he stared down at the fallen leader.
Vikram's heart raced as he stared at the leader, a strange sense of clarity washing over him. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about survival. His own strength, his powers, they were all coming to the surface now. The leader was right about one thing—he had been protected like a valuable asset, but now, he was no longer that helpless boy. He was something more.
"I'm not just a boy," Vikram said, his voice steady and filled with newfound determination. "I'm the one who will stop you."
The leader, now on his feet again, grabbed his weapons. "The stronger the opponent, the easier it is to defeat them," he said with a grim smile, his voice as cold as ever.