Episode -------40
Iron bars smell like rust and regret.
Raian sat on a narrow cot in the lock‑up, wrists bruised from cuffs too tight, breath misting in cold air. The world outside felt distant — as if he'd slipped from life into some half‑remembered nightmare.
Yet every time he closed his eyes, Aria's tear‑stained face burned behind his eyelids.
---
The guard threw stale bread onto the floor. "Eat," he barked, voice flat.
Raian didn't move. Shadows stretched long across cracked concrete; chains clinked somewhere down the hall.
Time blurred — broken only by distant footsteps and the metallic scrape of doors.
Memory filled the silence: Rajveer's last breath, Aria's sob, Lina's trembling fear, and Ayan's promise: "We'll find a way to free you."
---
For the first time in years, Raian felt something rawer than guilt.
Hope.
Fragile. Dangerous.
And terrifying.
---
Somewhere across Kolkata…
Rain still dripped from guttered roofs, turning alleys to rivers.
In a cramped apartment above a shuttered tea shop, Aria sat on the floor, knees hugged to her chest. Her hospital coat lay folded beside her — a ghost of the life that felt years away.
Ayan leaned against the window, bruised knuckles wrapped in cloth. Lina paced, steps sharp on cracked tiles.
"We can't just wait," Lina hissed, voice raw.
"And do what?" Ayan shot back, jaw tight. "We're outnumbered, outgunned, and half the city wants Raian's head."
---
Aria's voice, hoarse from crying, cut through the argument: "Then we don't fight with guns."
Lina paused. "Then how?"
"With truth," Aria whispered. "They say he killed Rajveer to seize power — but Rajveer came to kill us first."
"And who'll listen to a doctor on the run and a traitor's girl?" Ayan asked, softer now, guilt flickering in his eyes.
"Someone will," Aria breathed. "Someone must."
---
Ayan sank onto a broken chair. "And if no one does?"
Aria swallowed, voice trembling: "Then we keep trying. Because he fought his worst self for us. We can't let that be wasted."
---
Night fell.
In the cell, Raian's breath fogged in cold air. Across the iron bars, Rajveer's ghost lingered in silence.
"You're not made for cages," memory‑Rajveer whispered, voice cruel and calm. "You're made for knives and blood."
Raian pressed bruised knuckles to his forehead. "No," he rasped into the dark.
---
"You think love saves you?" the ghost mocked. "It only makes you bleed slower."
"And still," Raian whispered, voice breaking, "I chose it."
---
Footsteps outside. A guard stopped by the bars, keys clinking.
"Visitor," he grunted.
---
A narrow hallway. Flickering bulbs. Raian's wrists shackled tight.
Then: a wire‑glass window, scratched and yellowed.
Aria on the other side — hair damp, eyes rimmed red but fierce with stubborn fire.
---
She lifted the phone. Her fingers trembled, but her voice was clear.
"I don't care what they call you," she whispered. "I know who you are."
Raian's breath shuddered. "And who is that?"
"The man who stepped into bullets to save strangers," she breathed. "The man who let himself hope — even if it hurt."
---
His knuckles whitened around the receiver. "They'll bury me for Rajveer," he rasped. "Even if the truth lives, I might not."
"Then let the truth outlive you," she whispered, voice shaking. "But don't give up on yourself."
---
His eyes closed, lashes damp. "You're stubborn," he murmured, voice soft, raw.
"And you love me for it," she whispered, a tear sliding down.
His lips twitched — the faintest ghost of a smile. "Even now," he rasped.
---
Behind Aria, Lina and Ayan watched from shadow. Lina's hand clutched Ayan's sleeve, silent promise passing between them.
Ayan's jaw set. "We'll find the proof," he murmured.
"And if we can't?" Lina whispered.
"Then we keep him alive long enough to try," he breathed.
---
Later, back in the cell:
Raian sat in darkness, Aria's words echoing in every breath.
The floor was cold stone; the walls smelled of iron and old sorrow.
Yet something shifted inside him — not hope, exactly. But refusal.
He whispered into the dark: "Fail forward."
---
In the apartment:
Aria spread papers across the floor — old police reports, hospital records, maps.
Lina knelt beside her. "Where do we start?"
"Rajveer's men," Aria murmured. "Someone saw who struck first."
"And if they won't talk?" Lina asked.
"Then we find someone who will," Ayan said, stepping closer, resolve sharpening in bruised eyes.
---
Outside, dawn crept over Kolkata.
Smokestacks sent grey spirals into pale sky. The city woke, indifferent to guilt, love, or vengeance.
Yet somewhere in those waking streets, three hunted souls chased a single fragile chance:
To save a man who had finally chosen to be saved.
---
In the cell, Raian lifted bruised hands to his face, breath trembling.
And for the first time, he prayed — not for mercy.
But for time.
---
Teaser for Episode 41:
Aria, Ayan, and Lina dive into Kolkata's criminal underworld for proof — but every answer uncovers new danger. Meanwhile, Raian faces an offer that could free him… at a price darker than death.