The morning light filtered softly through the mansion windows, golden and calm.
Kiaan sat in Kiara's lap, freshly shaven, his tiny face gleaming under the soft sunlight. The wails had subsided, replaced by quiet coos and curious glances at the colorful puja decorations. Kiara and Yuvaan exchanged tired but contented smiles.
And then—
BAM!
The door to the hall burst open with a force that rattled the chandeliers.
Staff screamed. Chandrika and Bhoomi jumped back. The priest and the barber froze mid-motion, holy water and tools trembling in their hands.
Three shadows emerged, almost impossible to believe—three figures of pure darkness that seemed to devour the light itself.
The Tri-Kaalishini had arrived.
Urvi, her braid coiling like a living weapon, stepped forward, her eyes glittering with malicious triumph. Behind her, Ratri's Pishacini form flickered with smoke and red-hot fangs, while Nishi's pale, rune-marked hands seemed to pull the shadows closer with every step.
"Kiaan," Urvi's voice hissed, silky and cruel, "you thought you could hide. You thought a tiny baby could stop us? We came before… and your little tantrum of a magic kept us at bay."
The family's jaws dropped, shock freezing them in place.
Ratri's voice slithered through the hall. "But now… your hair is gone. Your power… diminished. Vulnerable. Easily taken."
Nishi raised her hands, and the runes along her arms glowed like icy daggers. "No one will stop us this time."
Kiara clutched Kiaan to her chest, heart hammering. Yuvaan stepped forward, fists clenched, jaw tight. His eyes flicked between his baby and the approaching darkness.
Urvi's braid whipped forward, slicing the air dangerously close to the family. "Step aside, mortals. This child belongs to our Boss. Hand him over, and perhaps we'll let the rest of you live."
Kiara's voice shook, but she stood tall. "Over my dead body."
Yuvaan added, teeth gritted, "You're not taking him. Not while I'm standing."
The Tri-Kaalishini paused, as if amused by their defiance.
"You are bold," Ratri whispered, her fangs glinting. "But boldness won't save you."
Urvi leaned closer, almost mockingly, tilting her head at Kiaan. "Your hair is gone, little one. And with it… your protection fades."
A cold chill swept through the hall. Chandrika, Bhoomi, Susheela, and the staff huddled back, fear and awe written on every face. The priest gripped his staff, whispering urgent prayers, but the three dark forces radiated a power that pressed heavily against the very walls of the mansion.
Kiara's grip tightened on Kiaan. "He may be small, but he is ours," she said softly, almost to herself.
Yuvaan stepped forward protectively. "And we'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe."
The air turned heavy, thick with dread.
Yuvaan's eyes blazed as he stepped forward, voice low and deadly calm. "Why do you want my son?"
The three silhouettes of the Tri-Kaalishini moved in perfect unison, their presence warping the very shadows around them. Urvi's braid twitched like a snake sensing prey.
"Our Boss," Urvi said, her voice cold as obsidian, "wants the child."
Yuvaan's fists clenched. "Who is this Boss? Tell me, or I swear—"
Ratri hissed, a sound like wind over broken glass. "The identity of the Boss is not for you to know."
Kiara stepped beside him, her arms wrapped tightly around his, eyes burning. "No. You will not take him. Not now, not ever."
The three dark forces laughed, a sound that slithered into the bones. Then, as one, they began weaving their powers.
The air crackled.
The shadows thickened.
A black torpedo of concentrated dark magic, spinning and screaming like a void in motion, shot forward with terrifying speed.
Yuvaan and Kiara tried to intercept, but the force was beyond even their strength. The room was ripped apart by the pressure.
They screamed as the impact hit, their senses screaming in a deafening silence.
Everything went black.
When consciousness returned, Yuvaan and Kiara were on the floor, trembling, surrounded by broken offerings and scattered ritual items along with the family members, Bhoomi, Chandrika, Aakash, Angad, Riddhi, Vinod and Susheela including the Barber and the priest. Their bodies ached.
The nursery was empty.
The Tri-Kaalishini were gone.
And with them, their son—Kiaan—lay unconscious in the dark hands of their unseen Boss.
A single thought burned in both their minds:
They had just crossed into a war that had only begun.
To be continued