9:15 PM — Athavan's Mansion, Metropore City
The night air was heavy.
A velvet sky blanketed the hills of Metro City as Kathirvan arrived at his son's estate, flanked by an armored escort and carrying a greater weight his aged mother, silent and observant in the back seat.
He hadn't come for pleasantries.
Not after the blood-slick battle in Lahang.
Not after ten mercenaries were left marked like trophies.
The war drums had sounded.
Kathirvan understood it was time.
Time to regroup.
Time to plan.
Time to stand beside his son not as father and child, but as warriors. Strategists.
Athavan had anticipated this.
From the moment he received news of the Lahang outcome, he knew:
Department Zero had crossed a threshold.
He welcomed his father and grandmother with silent reverence.
Now, in the quiet warmth of his study room, lined with maps, monitors, and tactical logs, father and son sat across from each other.
A fire burned quietly in the grate.
"Appa," Athavan began, his voice low but precise,
"You made the right call.
The next 48 hours… Walaysia's borders will lock down."
He leaned forward, eyes reflecting the flames.
"If I'm right, more mercenaries will slip in.
Naraka's underlings will move. But that's not what I fear.
The real threat… is if they activate the Dark Support System."
Kathirvan furrowed his brow.
"Dark Support System?
I've never heard that term before."
Athavan tapped into a secure tablet and pulled up a classified schematic layered networks, coded agencies, shifting icons.
"I told you once, remember?
About the group behind Naraka. The ones even Naraka answers to.
This system Dark Support was built by them."
He exhaled.
"It's not just a weapons channel.
It's an auction house of darkness.
A brokered platform where anything can be bought for a price:
A ballistic missile.
A nation's collapse.
An assassination order for presidents, prime ministers… even monarchs
Or Nuke."
Kathirvan leaned back slowly.
"That dangerous? And… such system exists unchecked?"
"It links 90% of the world's dark organizations.
Every syndicate. Every rogue cell.
They don't communicate traditionally they use this system like command nodes or bartering system."
He zoomed into a highlighted region.
"If Naraka submitted a support request
If they've acknowledged their failure at Lahang…
They'll call on someone to finish the job."
"Who?" Kathirvan asked quietly.
Athavan looked up, his voice sharpening.
"Most likely?
WOME.
The Wolves of the Middle East. Most nearest organization which could rival Naraka under their banner"
Kathirvan's jaw tightened.
"I thought WOME operated independently?
They were mercenary. Freelance.
I've never seen them interact with Naraka."
He paused.
"Has our intel… missed something?"
Athavan nodded.
"They are rivals.
Each group is vying to become the P.I.C. the primary interface for Asia under the parent conglomerate."
He continued.
"WOME will not let Naraka's failure go unchallenged.
They'll step in mock Naraka and Naraka will allowed this.
Knowing that old women that method, She will wanted to test our bottom line."
Kathirvan sat in thought.
He had heard of WOME.
A name whispered alongside terrorist cells and state-level chaos.
Violence was their greeting.
Annihilation, their signature.
Knock. Knock.
The discussion snapped short.
A soft knock echoed against the study's polished wooden door.
Athavan straightened slightly.
"Yes? Come in."
The study door creaked open. Dhiviya stepped in with a smile, her presence softening the dense energy lingering in the room.
"Mama, dear… come join us. Appa brought satay."
Athavan blinked.
"Satay?"
Dhiviya chuckled.
"Walaysian-style chicken skewers. Roasted, spiced… sticky with peanut sauce.
I missed this so much."
Kathirvan smiled for the first time that night and stood up.
"Come, Athavaa. I'm starving too."
At the dinner table, the air was warm with laughter and the rich aroma of grilled meat. Skewers clinked gently against plates, and glasses filled with fresh lime water sat untouched. Smiles passed around but beneath it all, Dhiviya felt the tension.
The war may have paused at the gate, but inside her husband and father-in-law, it still raged.
She knew.
She'd learned.
She was no longer the oblivious wife lost in wedding bliss. She understood the weight Athavan carried the silent hours, the encrypted calls, the burden of command.
"Where's Grandma?" Athavan asked gently.
"She was tired. I let her rest in the guest room," Dhiviya replied.
"Do you want to see her?"
Athavan breathed in. Held it.
"No. Let her sleep.
But I have something important to say."
He turned to the table.
"For the next few days, I want everyone to stay at home.
Walaysia… may not be safe."
Guna, the youngest, looked up.
"Wait, what's going on, mama? I've got a ton of work at the office"
Before he could finish, Dhiviya's voice cut in.
"Guna! Sit down.
If your mama says it's not safe, you listen."
The room fell silent.
Until
Beep… Beep.
A phone rang.
Vasathan glanced at the screen.
It was an unknown number.
From India.
The formatting… marked as VIP.
A chill ran up his spine.
He looked at Athavan. Athavan gave a subtle nod.
Answer it.
Vasathan's fingers trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
No answer.
Only the sound of breathing.
Heavy. Human.
The kind that speaks of venom.
Vasathan hesitated.
"Hello… hmn… Stepmother?
Is that you?"
A voice cold and sharp as rusted steel cut through the line.
"So. You knew I'd call."
"For what you've done to my son,
Prepare to pay."
Vasathan gripped the table's edge.
"What are you talking about?
It was him. It was you."
The woman laughed a sound more animal than human.
"You dare speak to me like that, insect?
You were born a slave.
And I will never let you or your descendants walk this earth.
I'll strip your soul from your bodytear it apart until you beg for death."
Vasathan's chest tightened.
"What did I do to deserve this?
You witch!
You want a fight?
You'll get one."
This was the first time in thirty years he spoke to the woman who had once ruled his life with fists and fear.
The voice sharpened.
"Do you think backing makes you safe?
Don't forget who I am."
Vasathan's hand shook.
Everyone at the table could see his face drain of color.
Athavan stood.
Calmly walked to his father-in-law.
And took the phone from his hand.
"Neelambari.
Queen of Naraka.
I know exactly who you are."
A pause.
Then came her voice.
"So you are the reason behind my slave courage, little boy.
You dare play tricks on me?"
Athavan didn't flinch.
"You think you're invincible because you lead a parasite colony dressed up as empire.
You...
Your syndicate...
You're all trash.
Cancer pretending to be royalty."
He stepped forward, voice colder now.
"Stay where you are, old bitch.
After I finish sweeping the filth you sent here…
I'm coming for your head."
"And when I arrive, I'll deliver your son's head as a gift."