The air inside Section D headquarters was thick with a tension even the morning sun couldn’t burn away. Victory usually tasted of iron and adrenaline—but for Chandru, it tasted like ash.

  In the central hall, Guru Pedro stood with his arms crossed, his shadow long and imposing beneath his wide-brimmed cowboy hat. Discipline in Section D was absolute. Chandru had shattered it.

  “Chandru… you have been demoted to Rank Six.”

  Pedro’s voice ground like stone against stone.

  “You held your position not just because of your power, but because of your discipline. Yesterday, you chose ego over orders. You chose a duel over the safety of your unit.”

  Chandru stood motionless, his expression unreadable.

  “As of this moment,” Pedro continued, “your rank is stripped. You fall from Four to Six on the Rising Students List. Let this be a reminder—a weapon that swings itself is a liability, not an asset.”

  Pari, Rohan, and Subha watched in stunned silence. A demotion of two ranks was a brutal blow within the Blink Council. Yet Chandru merely nodded, his face never flickering.

  Surya broke the silence.

  “Does BLINK assign ranks to students?”

  “Yes,” Pari replied. “Like schools do.”

  “Then what are they based on?”

  “Performance in the APT—Annual Progression Tests—conducted by BLINK,” Pari explained. “Along with the ratio of successful missions and disciplinary behavior. Mr. Pedro submits the final report, including any breaches.”

  Surya frowned. “Are you guys ranked?”

  Rohan nodded. “The list contains up to twenty members. Chandru and Subha are the only ones currently on it.”

  Surya turned to her. “Subha… what rank are you?”

  “I’m twentieth,” she replied quietly.

  Surya’s eyes widened. “So… Chandru is the strongest among us?”

  Subha shook her head.

  “Strength isn’t physical—it’s mental. Those with unstable minds aren’t considered strong. Chandru is one of them. He can’t even control his own emotions.”

  As Surya absorbed her words, Pedro intervened.

  “Now,” he sighed, his tone shifting as he gestured toward the heavy oak doors, “meet the final member of your team. She’s been delayed—but she’s here.”

  A girl stepped out from the corridor’s shadows.

  She had short hair and a strikingly beautiful face. Her skin was the deep tone of polished mahogany, and her eyes—unnatural, piercing emerald green—seemed to glow in the dim light. She wore dark, practical traveling clothes, worn and weathered.

  “This is Sona,” Pedro said. “She was lost in the Illusion Forest for a week. Most don’t survive two days. She survived seven.”

  Sona remained silent, taking in the hall and everyone within it.

  Her green eyes swept across the room, lingering on Chandru a heartbeat longer than the rest.

  That evening, the students set up a small camp on the plateau overlooking the valley. It was meant to be a moment of bonding before Pedro’s departure—a rare reprieve from the constant threat of the Mythics. Firewood crackled softly, and the scent of steaming food filled the air.

  Vaishu glanced around the circle, noticing a glaring absence.

  “Where’s Surya?” she asked, turning to Chandru. “Why didn’t he come to the camp?”

  Chandru replied evenly, “He’s back at the bungalow—Ockslaw Mansion. He’s determined to break the dummy. Some people only learn through repetition and stubbornness.”

  As the night deepened, Vaishu began helping Pari prepare a fruit recipe. She reached for a small utility knife Pari was holding, but her grip slipped.

  The blade hissed across Chandru’s forearm, which had been resting nearby.

  Vaishu gasped, dropping the knife. “Oh no! Chandru, I’m so sorry!”

  She rushed to grab a cloth—then froze.

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  The wound didn’t sizzle. It didn’t seal.

  It bled.

  Dark red, unmistakably human blood soaked into his sleeve.

  Across the fire, Sona leaned forward. Her emerald eyes narrowed as she watched the blood drip onto the grass. She said nothing, but her gaze was sharp—intent—as though she were memorizing the sight of the invincible Vessel bleeding.

  Later, after the medicine lady had cleaned and bandaged the cut, Vaishu found Chandru sitting alone at the edge of the camp, staring up at the sky.

  “I’m really sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t understand. You’re a Celestial Vessel. I’ve seen you take hits from vampires that could crush a car. How did a simple kitchen knife cut you? Why isn’t it healing?”

  Chandru didn’t look at her. He raised his bandaged hand and pointed toward the heavens.

  The sky was a vast, empty black.

  “It’s a No-Moon night,” he said quietly. “My energy is a reflection. I’m a mirror to the lunar cycle. When the moon is hidden, my power disappears. No speed. No durability. Just flesh and bone.”

  Vaishu felt a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air.

  The strongest student in Section D had a zero hour.

  While the secret of the moon was being revealed at the camp, Surya stood alone in the dark courtyard of the bungalow.

  He was drenched in sweat, his muscles screaming for rest—but his mind burned brighter than ever.

  He closed his eyes, shutting out the world. He stopped thinking about cotton, burlap, and wood. Instead, he replayed Chandru’s movements—the rhythmic grace, the absence of wasted effort.

  

  This time, he didn’t wind up for a heavy blow.

  He inhaled deeply, drawing the cool night air into his lungs. The heat in his gut condensed—not exploding outward, but compressing, tightening, until it felt like a needle of pure white light.

  His right hand began to glow.

  Not like a dying candle.

  Like a steady lamp.

  The light didn’t flicker.

  He snapped his fist forward—not with force, but with precision.

  

  The sound rang sharp as a gunshot.

  Surya opened his eyes.

  The cotton dummy hadn’t swayed.

  It had been sheared.

  The top half lay on the ground, its edges perfectly charred black.

  He had done it.

  He had achieved Penetrative Force.

  “I did it!” he roared, leaping into the air. “I actually did it!”

  He spotted Vaishu entering the courtyard, carrying a bowl of food from the camp.

  “Vaishu! Did you see that?” he shouted, running toward her. “I broke it! I have to show Chandru and the others!”

  He sprinted past her—then skidded to a stop.

  Turning back, he saw her standing alone in the dark, steam rising softly from the bowl in her hands.

  Guilt hit him like a punch.

  “Stupid,” he muttered. “She walked all this way to bring me food.”

  Surya returned, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly acting exhausted.

  “Actually… ah… my legs are really hurting. I think I overdid it today. I can’t walk another step.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Vaishu, let’s just eat here.”

  Her hurt expression melted away, replaced by a warm, radiant smile.

  “Is that true?” she asked.

  “Yes… totally,” he said quickly. “Am I a machine to train all day without getting tired?”

  They sat together on the porch of the old bungalow, sharing the bowl of rice. As the night passed, the barriers between them slowly crumbled. They spoke of their homes, their fears, and the strange, dangerous world they had been thrust into.

  Far away, in the damp, rotting shadows of the vampire den, Tharag arrived to an unsettling sight.

  A fellow vampire crouched over the body of a young woman, tearing into her flesh with careless hunger.

  “Where is Heera?” Tharag asked coldly.

  Without pausing his meal, the vampire lifted one blood-slicked hand and pointed deeper into the cave—toward a small, crudely crafted hut hidden behind a hanging sheet of cloth.

  Tharag moved straight for it.

  Inside, he found Heera lying on a stone bed, his body wrapped in bandages. Three young female vampires slept beside him, their forms pale and still.

  Heera’s eyes opened slowly.

  “It’s bad manners,” he said lazily, “to enter my private chamber without permission.”

  “I apologize, Heera,” Tharag replied evenly. “But who are these women?”

  “Don’t call them women,” Heera corrected, a faint smile curling his lips. “They are girls. Young ones. I turned them myself. In a few months, they will bear my kids—and it will be your duty to nurture them as mixed-blood soldiers.”

  Tharag’s gaze hardened.

  “I saw a girl’s body outside.”

  “She refused my offer,” Heera said calmly. “So I killed her—and fed her to the others.”

  “What offer?” Tharag asked.

  “To become a vampire,” Heera replied as he rose from the bed and stepped closer, “and to give birth to my offspring.”

  Heera stopped inches from Tharag.

  “If you don’t have a valid reason for interrupting my privacy,” he whispered, “I will kill you.”

  “What is it, Tharag?”

  Though his body was wrapped in bandages, his ego was far more wounded than his flesh.

  “My informant has confirmed it,” Tharag said. “The one they call Moonmask—he is bound to the sky. On the night of the No Moon, his blood is no different from a mortal’s.”

  For a moment, Heera was silent.

  Then he laughed.

  It began as a low wheeze, building into a jagged, hysterical cackle that echoed through the damp stone chamber.

  “A worm,” Heera hissed, his eyes glowing with feral delight. “I lost to a worm who loses his sting when the moon hides. A shame I will soon wash away in his blood.”

  Heera dragged his claws slowly along a stone pillar, sparks scraping free.

  “When is the next No Moon, Tharag?”

  “Twenty-eight days.”

  “Then he has one month to live,” Heera grinned. “I will prepare a feast.”

  His smile widened.

  “And the main course will be the heart of a Vessel.”

  The next morning, Guru Pedro stood at the gates with his luggage packed.

  His spadroon was strapped tightly at his side, and his cowboy hat was pulled low—shadowing eyes that had already begun to look toward the coming storm.

  "I am heading to the Saba” Pedro announced. SABA is the place where confidential meetings of BLINK association Will be conducted. “The Council of BLINK in Mumbat has called for an urgent session. This is a critical time, and I will be away for nearly a month. I have already informed the nearby Karthas—the village heads. They will lend their support in case of any emergency. If the situation worsens, you may contact me directly.”

  He turned to Pari. "you are in charge of the team's coordination while I am gone. If anything urgent happens, you are the voice of reason."

  Then, he turned a stern gaze toward Chandru. "And you. Do not take a single step outside this HQ for a mission without acknowledging Pari or me."

  Chandru nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

  As Pedro’s silhouette disappeared down the mountain path, a new era for Section D began. Surya had his spark and Vaishu had her pride. But in the shadows, the moon was already beginning its slow fade toward the next darkness.