Inside the dim, suffocating halls of Kaalvansh, Kiara lay curled in the corner of the cage, her breath hitching in fear. Mohana stood before her, her eyes glowing with a wicked, hungry delight. She tapped her clawed fingers against the iron bars, each metallic click echoing like a countdown.
"Go on," she said, her voice thick with malice. "Speak to your baby. Tell your child whatever last words you want. I am taking its life now."
Kiara's throat tightened. "Please… don't do this. Not my child… please."
Her words came out broken, her hands trembling as she pressed them protectively over her stomach. But Mohana was unmoved. Her expression was frozen, cruel, unwavering.
"You jishwa women are all the same," Mohana whispered as dark roots slithered up from the floor. "Always begging for mercy you do not deserve."
The roots wrapped around Kiara's wrists, forcing her arms upward and away from her belly. She gasped, struggling, but the more she fought, the tighter they coiled.
Mohana knelt beside her, almost tenderly, and placed a cold, glowing palm against Kiara's stomach. The room filled with a burning silence.
A heartbeat passed.
Another.
Nothing.
Mohana's eyes twitched. Confusion crept into her smile. She pressed harder, her voice dropping into a growl.
"Why is your stomach empty?"
Kiara's tears stilled. A strange calm washed over her face. For a moment she simply breathed… then her lips curled.
"Maybe," she whispered, "because I'm not pregnant."
Mohana recoiled. "Lies. It is not possible."
Kiara lifted her head slowly, the fear in her eyes melting into something far sharper.
"It is possible," she said softly, "if I am not Kiara."
A faint, eerie giggle left her lips.
"Hehehehehe…"
Her body shimmered, her features twisting and reforming. Mohana stared, frozen in disbelief, as Kiara's form dissolved like smoke.
And then—Dilruba stood in her place, eyes dancing, smile wickedly triumphant.
On the deserted highway, Yuvaan's shoulders finally stopped shaking. He raised his head, wiping his tears as his form shimmered too, dissolving until Kajal stood in his place. Varun and Vikram shared a breath of relief, their faces breaking into strained smiles.
"She took the bait," Vikram murmured, finally allowing himself to exhale.
Back inside Kaalvansh, Mohana staggered backward, her rage boiling over.
"You tricked me," she snarled. "You tricked me!"
Dilruba threw her head back in laughter, savoring every second.
"Oh, Mohana," she said, almost sweetly. "Of course I did. You make it far too easy. Honestly… what a loser."
Mohana's braid snapped in fury. "Where is Kiara? Tell me now!"
Dilruba floated closer, her smile stretching, her voice dropping into a whisper meant to slice.
"I will tell you," she said. "She is out of your reach."
Before Mohana could strike, Dilruba winked, her form melting into a swirl of blue smoke.
And she was gone, leaving Mohana alone in the cold chamber, trembling with a rage that shook the very stones beneath her feet.
Next scene
The jungle was quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the hidden shore. A soft mist drifted across the trees as Kiara and Yuvaan stepped out from the winding path, their hands still clasped tightly, as if letting go too soon would shatter them both.
A small wooden boat appeared through the fog, gliding toward the shore without a single ripple—silent, like a secret meant only for them. The old boatman stood inside it, his face hidden beneath a hood, his presence calm but uninviting. This was the vessel that would take Kiara to the Forgotten Island.
Yuvaan felt his heart twist.
"This is it," he whispered, his voice barely steady.
Kiara turned to him slowly. The wind played with her hair, brushing it across her face, and she pushed it back with trembling fingers. In the dim light, she looked both strong and unbearably fragile.
"I didn't think…" she tried to speak, but her voice cracked. She breathed again. "I didn't think we'd have to say goodbye like this."
Yuvaan cupped her face gently. His thumbs brushed along her cheeks as if memorizing her features, as if carving every line into his soul.
"I wanted to be with you through everything," he said. "Every moment. Every flutter of the baby. Every tired breath. Every craving. Every fear. I wanted to hold your hands the whole nine months."
Kiara leaned her forehead against his, their breaths mingling, their tears falling freely.
"And I wanted you there," she whispered. "I wanted us to celebrate our baby together, feel its kicks together, dream together. But every time we look for happiness, something tries to tear it apart."
Yuvaan's grip tightened, as though the world might steal her away if he loosened it even for a second.
"This time we won't let it," he said softly. "We're choosing this, Kiara. For our child. For its life."
Kiara closed her eyes, her tears slipping onto his palms.
"I'm scared," she confessed.
"So am I," he admitted. "Terrified."
He pulled her into his arms, holding her with a desperation that shook through him. She clung to him just as fiercely, burying her face in his chest as if the scent of him, the warmth of him, could give her strength for the lonely nights ahead.
"I will come for you the moment it is safe," Yuvaan whispered into her hair. "The very second Mohana's shadow lifts, I will be there. I swear it."
Kiara nodded shakily, her voice barely audible.
"And I will wait for you. No matter how long."
The boatman cleared his throat softly, a reminder. The time had come.
Yuvaan and Kiara pulled back slowly, their hands sliding apart, their fingers unwilling to separate.
When Kiara finally stepped onto the boat, she turned one last time. Yuvaan stood on the shore, shoulders shaking, eyes glistening with helpless love.
She lifted her hand.
He lifted his.
The boat drifted away, cutting through the fog, carrying her farther and farther until Yuvaan could no longer see her—just the faint silhouette of the boat dissolving into the horizon.
Yuvaan fell to his knees, his chest caving as the distance swallowed her.
And Kiara sat silently in the boat, one hand over her stomach, whispering through her tears:
"We'll return home, little one. And your father will find us."