The sun was sinking low, staining the Bhubaneswar skyline in rust and blood.

Jagendra and Nikita sped through the back alleys in a battered police jeep Mishra had "loaned" them after they forced his hand. In the glove compartment, a rough map led them to an old abandoned temple ground on the city’s outskirts — a place called Padma Khand.

"The files said the old Sangha gatherings happened there," Nikita muttered, studying the map, heart hammering.

Jagendra drove like a man possessed, tires screaming around corners.
If they were right, the killer would be preparing the final ritual tonight.

If they were wrong… they might not get another chance.

They reached the outskirts by twilight.

The temple ruins loomed ahead, broken stone towers swallowed by vines and time. A heavy silence pressed against them — even the cicadas seemed to hold their breath.

Jagendra killed the engine. He and Nikita stepped out, guns drawn, flashlights cutting thin beams through the encroaching dark.

They moved cautiously, boots crunching gravel, hearts thudding.

And then — from behind them — a soft click.

Jagendra froze.

Cold steel pressed against the back of his head.

"Drop it," Mishra’s voice slithered out of the dark.

Nikita spun, her gun raised, but two more shadows emerged — masked, armed. Cult followers.

She lowered it slowly.

Jagendra dropped his gun.

Mishra stepped into the open now, smirking like a man who thought he had already won. His paan-stained grin glistened in the failing light.

"You think you’re heroes, huh?" he spat. "There’s no saving this city. It belongs to them now. Always has."

"You sold your own people," Jagendra growled.

Mishra shrugged. "Better to serve gods who reward loyalty… than die for ones who forgot us."

Behind him, one of the masked men grabbed Nikita roughly, twisting her arms behind her back. She hissed in pain.

Jagendra’s blood boiled, but Mishra pressed the barrel harder into his skull.

"You were supposed to be easy to kill," Mishra said, laughing. "But no matter. Tonight, you’ll both be offerings."

He gestured toward the broken temple steps.

"Move."

Jagendra and Nikita exchanged a glance — a silent, desperate calculation.

They still had fight left.

But the killer was waiting ahead.And betrayal had already bared its teeth.

Tonight, blood would be spilled.
One way or another.