Play 'Chunar' by Arijit Singh or Animal theme song
N A R R A T I O N
| Past: Aayansh's Age 8 Years |
He's a little boy... turning eight today. And being the sole heir of Oberois', Aayansh's birthday isn't merely a celebration, but also the declaration of the legacy his grandfather forged.
Soft morning rays enter the palace, cutting the suffocating silence born from Ayushman Oberoi's brutal end.
In his black-grey nightwear, eight-year-old Aayansh heads toward Aaina's room. His grandfather's gun, the one he'd used to shoot him just days ago... is clutched tightly in his hands.
Strangely, Aaina's door is open this morning, unlike the last few days. Aayansh walks in, letting his gaze wander around before they find her... curled on bed, small and silent. As if something has already hollowed her out.
She's alive, she's breathing, but not living anymore.
With the gun held exactly as before, Aayansh climbs onto the bed and bends towards her, whispering "Mom?"
Aaina's awake but drained.
She shuts her eyes hearing Aayansh's voice, as if she's summoning whatever strength is left in her... just to face her son like a mother, not like a wounded woman who has no strength left to survive this world.
"I know you're awake and listening to me" Aayansh's whisper rings in her ears again.
She exhales, steadying herself as she turns slowly toward him. He's sitting beside her, gaze pinned to her face but aaina's entire body stiffens the moment her eyes drop to the gun in his little hands.
She jerks her gaze back to his face, panicking. "Ansh!" She snaps "What are you doing with dadu's gun? You shouldn't touch anyone's things without permission..."
"But I didn't leave him alive to give permission."
Aaina freezes.
The world drops as she stares at her son, his words echoing in her ears... so calmly spoken as if he were confessing about ruining a toy he once adored.
Untouched by any kind of hesitation, fear or even guilt, Aayansh sets the gun on the bed in front of her and gets on his knees to reach her level.
He raises his eyes to meet hers, his voice dropping steadily "I pulled the trigger twice. Then sat there to watch him covered in blood. That was his punishment."
An eight-year-old child saying all this with such a quiet certainty? No confusion. Like he knows what he did wasn't wrong, wasn't on impulse. It was what he chose for the moment.
Aaina goes numb.
Her lips tremble, barely forming the words as she stutters "You... you did w-what?"
Aayansh doesn't answer this time, he just stares in her eyes with the same disturbing calm.
Silence swallows the room.
And the choking truth?
She knows he never lies.
Then suddenly, a sharp crack echoes through the room as Aaina's palm slams hard across Aayansh's cheek, snapping his face to the side.
Her chest rises and falls in frantic, uneven breaths, terror choking her. Lids trembling with the tears pooling down like a storm she cannot hold.
Aayansh doesn't move, no trace of horror on his face, even though the red marks of her fingers etched on his skin.
The hand she raised on him trembles... as if she herself cannot believe she had just struck her own child.
When Aayansh's eyes shift back to aaina, he cups her face in his small hands. "Don't cry, Mom," He says, voice firm as wipes her tears "You can slap me as many times as you want! You have that right. But he deserved it." He holds her terrified gaze. "No one is allowed to hurt you."
Her gaze narrows in confusion, but she says nothing. Not just because her mental health isn't allowing her... but she tells herself it must be because of her... aayansh committed this sin after witnessing her suffering... that he blamed his grandfather for the pain she's been enduring.
No mother can ever imagine this for her child. But aaina? She knows somewhere, the darkness in her little son sets him apart from the world.
As the hours drag on, the horror settles deeper inside Aaina, turning her restlessness into something far more than suffocation.
Her Ansh.
Her little boy.
How could he carry the weight of a murder... of killing his own grandfather?
The very man he had once respected like an ideal.
So she makes a decision.
One that feels like it is tearing her soul from her body.
And now, she's dressing Aayansh-
not for celebration,
but to send him away.
From her. From everyone. Just for now.
She has told him she will make this his most memorable birthday... unaware of how twistedly her wish is about to come true.
She pulls the T-shirt over his head, her face blank, every emotion buried beneath a carefully worn mask.
Aayansh stands perfectly still, his small frame unmoving, watching his mother as she combs his damp hair.
"Mom?" He calls, staring at her through the mirror.
She doesn't answer. Her hands move steadily, deliberately, as if getting him ready is the only thing that matters for now.
He turns abruptly, meeting her dark blue eyes and she snaps "Hold still-"
"Why are you sending me away?" He asks, his voice quiet.
Aaina hesitates, forcing calm into her tone as her fingers brush his arms "Because... I-I need to get your surprise ready."
"Aaina?!"
Aaryan Oberoi's furious voice crashes into the room as he enters, his eyes burning into her, only to be met with her complete indifference. "How dare you make a decision about my son without telling me?"
Aaina doesn't react.
Aayansh's fists tighten, but his eyes stay on Aaina... watching her as she fixes his hair like nothing else matters.
"Promise me, you'll be a good boy there" She murmurs, placing a soft kiss to his nose before resting her forehead over his "I won't be around you for a while."
"But I'm not a good boy" He mutters, lifting his eyes to meet hers.
She sighs, "You stubborn little thing."
A small smile forms on her lips as she mutters, "Babies are always the best thing that happens to their mothers, so for me, you and Aashi are my heart. And I want you both to remember that, okay?"
Aayansh doesn't look away from her.
"Aaina?" Aaryan's voice cuts in again.
Aaina straightens, her palm settling against Aayansh's cheek.
"Go out."
Aayansh doesn't argue.
He turns to leave and his gaze finally locks with his father's. The look alone makes Aaryan Oberoi flinch.
The door closes behind him.
Aayansh doesn't leave. He stands there, unmoving, as voices bleed through the walls, muted in his ears.
"Useless woman. You destroyed my family... and you think this divorce would get you peace?"
Then comes the sharp crack of a slap, echoing from behind the closed door.
Aayansh's knuckles tighten, veins carving beneath his skin as he slams his fists against the closed door, demanding it be opened... the rage inside him tears loose.
A normal child would have been terrified, frozen in place.
What lives inside Aayansh is far beyond childlike innocence.
This was the moment when after Dr. Singhania's text, Aaina had been ready to confront the truth... to face the person who had torn her name apart.
But she never reached there!
Because Of One Call From Her Father... Hriday Singh Rajvansh... That one call sealed her fate in a different direction.
And now, she was sitting waiting for him in the grand hall of the Oberoi Palace, every second stretching heavier than the last.
Her anxiety gnawed at her so badly that she called Aayansh's teacher in the middle of it all, needing to hear that her son was okay.
And then?
Her phone vibrated once again.
One notification was enough to make her world collapse the moment she opened it.
It was Dr. Singhania's text again!
"Aaina, please... wherever you are, run away before it's too late. Your father can reach you any second."
Aaina just stared at the screen for a long, suffocating moment, her heart pounding so hard it hurt inside her chest.
Her father?
How come he?
And yet, in her mind, everything fell into place. Hriday stopping her from meeting Singhania. His voice tightening the instant she said she wanted the truth.
Her hands began to shake, her breath quickening... another panic attack clawing its way up her chest.
But she didn't let the grief consume her, she couldn't.
Instead of wasting another second, she yanked out her phone and opened the Recorder.
Evening| 7.51 P.M
Not every birthday is meant to be celebrated, because some are meant to bleed. And this day? It carried destruction that had begun long ago.
The whole palace is mourning.
By now, the news of Aaina Oberoi's suicide had spread across the country like wildfire. To the world, it made perfect sense... her name had already been dragged through the dirt long before her death.
In the drawing room, Hriday, Aaryan, and Rithvik Oberoi sit in silence, their expressions blank and worn. Vidyut has been sent underground for some more time.
"Ab aage kya?" Aaryan finally snaps, his voice edged with impatience. "That woman didn't just leave...she has left chaos behind."
The silence stretches.
"Kill Aayansh and Aashika."
Hriday doesn't raise his voice.
"What?" Aaryan cuts in, shooting to his feet, his eyes blazing. "Don't you dare."
His hands curl into fists. "My children are not part of this."
"Enough," Rithvik cuts in coolly. "Those are children. They have nothing to do with this."
"Sit down, both" Hriday says calmly, as if something dark is already taking shape in his mind. "Put your emotions aside. Use your brain. According to Ayushman's will... Aashika Aayansh are the sole heirs to this empire," His gaze shifts to Aaryan, sharp and assessing "Leave aashika. But Aayansh?! I can sense it," Hriday adds, voice even. "That Boy Will Dismantle Us."
Aaryan Oberoi stiffens.
Somewhere, deep down, he knows Hriday isn't wrong.
Here, Aayansh is in Aaina's room.
The door is locked from the inside.
He sits on the bed, his T-shirt still stained with his mother's blood... her last embrace etched into the fabric.
His eyes are red, dry.
There's nothing in them.
His gaze fixed on Aaina's phone, the one he had quietly picked up from beside her body. In the chaos around him, no one noticed.
He tries to unlock the phone, his thumb hovering over the lock screen. There was only one notification.
Audio saved - Recorder.
He knew Aaina.
She used to save everything with order... pictures, audios, files. But this audio? It's random.
He brings the phone closer, the lock screen still glowing faintly.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifts it toward his eyes.
The screen unlocks.
Same shade. Same darkness... His eyes and Aaina's had always been the same... Dark blue.
Without another second wasted, he taps the notification and turns the audio on.
The next second.
Aaina's voice.
Soft. Trembling. Unbreakably firm.
“Happy Birthday, My boy...
I know you'll find this message... somehow.”
“Forgive your mom, Ansh. I may not be able to keep my promise, not today, maybe not ever. Trust me, Bachha, I tried. I fought with everything... even when it felt like the whole world was crushing me beneath.”
Aayansh's jaw locks, the words sinking into him as if nothing else exists.
She exhales in the note
"But I wasn't strong enough to fight my own people. Where the world couldn't break me, my blood did."
"The people I thought were my strength.. my father, the man I called my husband, the sister I believed would wipe my tears... were the very ones who silently tore me apart."
A pause that feels someone's choking her, her voice turns urgent.
"Promise me... you'll never become a part of this war. You'll never chase them, never go after anyone”
Promise me that you and Aashi will go far away from all of them—bohot door, jahan tak yeh sab kabhi tum tak na pahunch paaye. Promise me?”
"If you come back and I'm not there... just remember-"
A beep follows.
The note ends with a thud.
For a long moment, Aayansh doesn't move. His small body sits still, but his mind races... grappling with the words "Where the whole world couldn't break me, my own blood did."
"My father" - Hriday Singh Rajvansh.
"The man I called my husband" - Aaryan Oberoi.
"My sister" - Anika Oberoi.
He lifts the phone again, staring at the recording one last time. Then, with quiet finality, he deletes it, erasing even the history. The screen goes dark. Aayansh tucks the phone into his pocket, bounding towards the corridors to look for Aashika.
But maybe it's too late. Hriday's move is already in motion. Aashika might not be there when he arrives...
P R E S E N T
The jet roars through the night sky, descending its landing phase.
At the open door of the jet, Aayansh stands unfazed. Cold, merciless wind lashing against his icy face, tangling his hair in its violent rush and tugging into him as if it wants to drag him into the void.
He's leaning against the open edge, eyes closed, one hand tucked into the pocket, the other lifting the mouth organ to his lips... He's playing the same dark melody... haunting enough for Goosebumps to crawl over anyone's skin.
The rhythm of the tune he plays blends with electric jolts tearing through the body pinned to the jet's ceiling...each shock a frozen, terrifying moment of agony for the man trapped within.
One shock after another-
and with every jolt, something inside Aayansh settles... satisfied... sadistically.
There are no screams... Tara rests inside the jet's restroom, untouched by what's happening outside.
Aayansh keeps playing, every note aligning with an electric jolt, composing death itself.
"Boss," Someone's voice from inside chimes in, trembling. "His heartbeat is too weak... one more shock and he'll die."
Aayansh stays still, indifferent, his hand lifting just enough to command an end to the shocks.
After a long moment, he opens his eyes, red with something unreadable, staring out at the world as if it means nothing.
R O M E—
Inside a marble-lined study overlooking the city, Hriday sits unhurried.
A glass of aged wine rests untouched in his hand as Latin chants hum softly from a gramophone, filling the room with something ancient... reverent.
A man steps in, careful.
"Godfather," he says, "Lucifer will land here any moment." A pause, loaded. "The Queen is with him."
Hriday doesn't look at him. His expression remains inscrutably calm as he takes a sip of wine.
"My boy," he murmurs, voice low and even,
"You played your game flawlessly."
He smiles, a crooked smile. "But you forgot- every game begins at the root."
(Villain ko kam nahi samajhna chahiye kabhi)
To be continued~
Write a comment ...