Chapter 30: The Live Counter-Attack
The heavy wooden door of the main computer lab clicked shut behind them, sealing the four of them in a world of humming servers and the faint, sterile scent of electronics. The vast room was empty, the rows of computers standing like silent, sleeping soldiers. For a moment, the gravity of what they were about to do settled over them. This was their war room.
Without a word, Pooja strode to the central administrator's terminal, her movements filled with a newfound purpose. She sat down, and her fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of motion. Code cascaded down the screen in green and white text. It was a language Aarav and Ayushi couldn't comprehend, but they understood the intent behind it. This was Pooja's battlefield, and she was a warrior.
Aarav, Ayushi, and Akash stood behind her, a silent, anxious council of war. The minutes stretched into an eternity. The only sounds were the clicking of the keys and the frantic thumping of their own hearts.
"I'm bypassing the outer firewall," Pooja murmured, her eyes locked on the screen. "The campus network uses a pretty standard encryption protocol. Child's play."
Another few minutes passed. "Okay, I'm in the main server. Accessing the upload logs for the campus social feed… they've tried to mask the IP, routing it through a couple of internal proxies. Cute."
A flicker of a smile touched Pooja's lips. It was the look of a grandmaster seeing a novice's clumsy opening move. Her fingers danced across the keyboard again, opening and closing windows with dizzying speed. Aarav felt a profound sense of gratitude for this quiet, unassuming girl who held their entire fate in her hands.
"Got it," she said suddenly.
Three heads leaned in closer. On the screen was an IP address, a timestamp, and a student ID number linked to the device that had uploaded the photograph.
"Lucky," Ayushi read the name aloud, her voice laced with confusion. "I know him. He's in our marketing elective. He… he's one of Rajat's guys."
"Of course, he is," Akash spat, his hands clenching into fists. "That snake doesn't have the guts to do his own dirty work."
"Wait, there's more," Pooja said, her voice tight. She typed another series of commands, her expression hardening. A new window popped up, showing a log of messages from the campus network's messaging system. "I've cross-referenced the device's MAC address. The same device that uploaded the photo also sent the first twenty messages spreading the initial rumor. All within five minutes of the upload. This was a coordinated attack."
Pooja hit one final key. A chat log appeared on the screen. It was a short, brutal conversation between Lucky and another user.
Lucky: The photo is up. Messages are sent.
User_R: Good. Make sure it spreads. I want everyone talking by evening.
Pooja traced the ID of 'User_R'. The result flashed onto the screen, undeniable and damning.
Rajat Singh.
A heavy silence descended upon the group. The confirmation was like a physical blow. They had suspected it, but seeing the proof, the cold, hard digital trail leading directly back to him, was different.
Aarav felt a chill run down his spine. This wasn't the Rajat he knew. The Rajat he remembered from his past life was an arrogant, entitled bully who confronted his problems head-on with threats and brute force. This new Rajat was different. He was a schemer, a manipulator who operated from the shadows. He had become a silent killer, and that was infinitely more terrifying.
"How?" Ayushi whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I thought he was just… jealous. Arrogant. I never thought he would sink this low, using these kinds of underhanded methods to ruin someone's reputation."
Akash's face was a mask of pure fury. The veins in his neck stood out, and his knuckles were white. "That's it," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I don't care what happens. I am going to find that idiot right now, and I swear I will bash his face in right in the middle of the campus square. He'll be eating his dinner out of the gutter tonight!"
He turned to leave, his entire body radiating rage.
"Akash, wait!"
Ayushi's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through his anger. He stopped, his hand on the door, and turned to face her.
She looked at him, her expression calm and measured, a stark contrast to his boiling rage. "And what will that solve?" she asked quietly. "You'll punch him. Maybe you'll win the fight. And what then? You'll get suspended, maybe even expelled. And we will look like violent thugs who can't control their tempers. We'll prove his rumors right for him. Is that what you want?"
Her words hit Akash like a bucket of ice water. He deflated, the righteous fury draining out of him, replaced by frustrated helplessness. She was right. A physical fight was exactly the kind of trap Rajat would want them to fall into.
"So what do we do?" he asked, his voice strained. "We just let him get away with this?"
"No," Ayushi said, a steely glint in her eyes. "We don't let him get away with it. We just handle this a different way."
She turned her gaze from Akash to the girl sitting at the computer. "Pooja."
Pooja looked up, her fingers still resting on the keyboard.
"Can you bypass the campus broadcast system?" Ayushi asked, her voice steady. "I don't mean just the social network. I mean everything. The digital notice boards in the hallways, the computer screens in the library, the projectors in the lecture halls. Everything."
Pooja's eyes widened for a second before a slow, impressed grin spread across her face. "It's a bit more complex, but… yes. I can create a master override. Why?"
Aarav and Akash looked at Ayushi, a sense of dawning awe on their faces. They were starting to understand.
"I want to go live," Ayushi announced, her voice ringing with unshakable conviction. "To the entire campus. Right now. Everyone should see my face and hear my voice."
Aarav's heart swelled with a fierce pride. This was her counter-attack. Not with fists, but with courage. Not with violence, but with truth.
"Are you sure?" he asked gently, though he already knew the answer.
She met his gaze and gave a firm, resolute nod. "I'm sure."
"Give me two minutes," Pooja said, already typing furiously.
Two minutes later, she leaned back. "Done. The moment I hit this key, your phone's camera feed will be broadcast on every single screen connected to the campus network. They won't be able to turn it off until I end the stream."
Ayushi took a deep breath, pulled out her phone, and propped it up on the desk. She looked at Aarav, at Akash, at Pooja, a silent thank you passing between them. Then, she looked into the camera lens.
"Now, Pooja."
Across the campus, the world stopped. In the crowded library, students' research was replaced by a girl's determined face. On the massive digital billboards in the main square, the daily announcements vanished. In the canteen, the cricket match on the TV was interrupted. Rajat and his cronies, who were laughing and celebrating in the middle of a crowded hallway, stopped dead as the screen in front of them flickered to life. It was Ayushi.
She looked directly into the camera, her expression calm, her gaze unwavering.
"Good evening, Christ University," she began, her voice clear and steady, amplified across hundreds of speakers. "I know what you've all been talking about today. You saw a picture. You heard a story. And you passed your judgment."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.
"Let me tell you what you really saw. You saw a picture of a friend helping another friend after a clumsy accident. You saw a moment of simple human kindness. But that's not the story you were told, is it? You were fed a narrative of deceit and impropriety, a story crafted to damage not just my reputation, but my character."
Her eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, looking into every corner of the campus.
"This university is supposed to be a place of enlightenment, a place where we learn to look for facts and question narratives. Yet, today, so many of you chose to believe the whispers of cowards. You chose to believe those who hide in the shadows, who lack the courage to show their faces, who use anonymous posts and twisted truths as their weapons because they are too small to stand in the light."
In the hallway, Rajat's triumphant smirk had vanished, replaced by a pale, slack-jawed shock.
Ayushi continued, her voice rising with passion. "I am being judged for my 'culture' and my 'character'. Well, let me tell you about my culture. I come from a place where character is not defined by the money in your pocket or the brand of your clothes. It's defined by your integrity, your honesty, and your willingness to stand up for what is right, especially when it's hard. My culture teaches me to face my accusers, not to hide behind a keyboard. My character is the strength my parents instilled in me, a strength that will not be broken by the pathetic, venomous games of a child who mistakes cruelty for power."
Every word was a perfectly aimed arrow. The campus was dead silent, every student mesmerized, their phones forgotten.
Rajat's face was turning from pale white to a blotchy, furious red. His underlings looked at him nervously, their celebratory mood evaporating into pure fear.
Ayushi leaned a little closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a serious, intense tone. "So, to the person behind this, the one who is too afraid to face me, I have a message for you: You have failed. You wanted to humiliate me, but you have only revealed your own pathetic nature. You wanted to make me a victim, but you have only made me a fighter."
She straightened up, her expression one of finality and power.
"To the rest of you, I will say this only once. Judge me. Please. But do not judge me by the whispers of cowards. Judge me by my work. Judge me by my actions. Judge me by the person I am, right here, in front of all of you. My name is Ayushi, and I will not be silenced."
The screen went black.
A collective gasp seemed to ripple through the campus, followed by an explosion of discussion. But this time, the tone was different. It wasn't salacious gossip; it was shock, awe, and for many, a dawning sense of shame.
In the hallway, Rajat stood frozen, his entire body trembling with a rage so profound it was almost silent. Every word from Ayushi had been a public slap in the face. She hadn't mentioned his name, but she didn't have to. Everyone would know. She had taken his weapon, his carefully crafted narrative of shame, and turned it into a shield of honor, leaving him exposed and utterly humiliated. His face cycled through shades of white, red, and a deep, mortified purple. He had lost. And he knew it.