Pedro and Subha walked toward the Section D compound, their boots crunching on the dry earth. Subha’s gaze was fixed on the ground, her mind miles away. Pedro glanced at her, noticing the heavy cloud in her eyes.

  "Subha?" he called. No response. "Subha!"

  She jolted, blinking back to reality. "Uh... yes, Master?"

  "Are you still thinking about the incidents in Mumbat?" Pedro asked gently.

  Subha hesitated, her fingers tracing the Tripundra on her forehead. "No, I’m just..." She trailed off, then sighed. "Actually, yes. I am."

  Few days earlier, at the Central HQ in Mumbat, the atmosphere had been thick with tension. As instructed by Drona, the 98-year-old Principal of the Association, students from every Blink section had gathered for a rare summit.

  Drona, a man whose presence felt like ancient stone, had personally introduced Subha to the broader scope of their world.

  "Subha... observe closely," Drona had said, his voice a low tremor. "These are the pillars of the Association:

  Section Arya (Section A): Guardians of the North-East.

  Section Bengal (Section B): Sentinels of the North-West, including the treacherous Himalayan range.

  Section Ceylon (Section C): Protectors of the Lanka Island, situated off the Southern coast."

  Subha had looked around in wonder. The other sections were teeming with students, their numbers far exceeding those of Section Dravi (Section D), which was tasked with guarding the entirety of South India.

  Using her spiritual resonance, Subha had subtly scanned the heartbeat patterns of every student present, checking for the jagged, unnatural rhythm of a Mythic presence. Amidst the crowd, she spotted a familiar face: Vaishnavi.

  Hoping for a warm reunion, Subha approached her, but Vaishnavi had simply turned away, her expression cold and dismissive.

  Back in the present, Pedro broke the silence. "Are you worried because Vaishnavi refused to speak with you?"

  Subha shook her head. "It’s not just that. People change, I know. But she was the one who taught me the foundations of a Devotee Vessel’s power. Now, she looks like a stranger. I don't know if her anger is directed at Chandru specifically, or at our entire Section."

  "Don't overthink it," Pedro advised. "She might just have been out of sorts. Our job in Mumbat was a success; we analyzed the teams, and no Mythic infiltration was found."

  "True," Subha replied, her voice dropping. "But I felt something strange about the guy in the mask—the Sub-Head of the Association."

  "You mean Mystery Mask?"

  "Yes. He wouldn't even reveal his true name when asked."

  "He is Drona’s personal student," Pedro explained, his brow furrowing. "He was appointed as Sub-Head very recently. I’ve never seen his face; I suspect only Guru Drona knows who is behind that mask."

  As they reached the Section D headquarters, the doors swung open to reveal a scene of absolute carnage. The common room was a blizzard of feathers and shouting. Rohan, Vaishu, and Surya were locked in a fierce pillow-war, diving over furniture and using their powers for the most trivial of advantages. Pari stood in the center, looking exhausted as he tried—and failed—to restore order.

  Chandru,sat in the corner ignoring all this calamity,reading a book. To Subha’s horror, Raksha greeted them by hanging upside down from the ceiling rafters like a bat, a mischievous grin on her face.

  "Pari... can you explain what is happening here?" Subha asked, her voice tight.

  Ten Minutes Earlier:

  The chaos had started simply enough. Surya, Vaishu, and Rohan had been bored, and a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors had escalated into a high-stakes bet: the loser had to do whatever the winner commanded.

  Vaishu lost first, followed by Surya. Rohan, the youngest and most opportunistic, emerged the "King."

  "Vaishu, make me tea!" Rohan commanded, lounging on the sofa. "And Surya, rearrange the cushions. From now on, you will both address me as King Rohan."

  Vaishu had muttered under her breath, fuming at losing to a thirteen-year-old. She intentionally brewed a tea so bitter it could melt iron. "Try it in one shot, King," she said with a fake smile. "Like how adults do."

  Rohan, wanting to prove his maturity, slammed the drink back in one gulp. The bitterness hit his tongue like a caustic shock. He involuntarily spat the liquid out—straight toward Vaishu.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Vaishu flickered out of existence, teleporting behind Surya. The tea hit Surya squarely in the back.

  "Enough!" Surya roared. He grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at Rohan with the force. Vaishu joined in immediately, and within seconds, the room was a chaotic battlefield.

  Subha stared at the upside-down goblin girl. "What is the meaning of this? Why is she not cuffed? Why isn't she in a cage?"

  Pari sighed, rubbing his temples. "Didn't you get the update? We shared the intel with Guru Pedro. She isn't a prisoner anymore."

  "What?" Subha gasped.

  "She’s our new business partner," Pari replied flatly.

  Subha’s jaw dropped. "What the hell!"

  As the moon climbed higher, cast in a pale, silver glow, the atmosphere inside the girls' quarters remained thick with tension. Subha stood before the mirror, her fingers tracing the faint, closed-eye mark on her forehead—the conduit of her psychic resonance.

  "I never expected Mr. Pedro to agree to a deal with a Goblin," she muttered, her reflection mirroring her disapproval.

  Vaishu, sitting on the edge of her bed, shrugged. "It’s probably because she saved Chandru. That carries weight with the Master."

  "Or it’s a calculated act to manufacture trust," Subha countered sharply.

  "You're right, it could be," Vaishu agreed. "But Chandru isn't easily manipulated. He’s the one who forwarded the request to Pedro. He must have seen something we didn't."

  A sharp knock interrupted them. When Vaishu pulled the door open, Raksha was standing there, holding a small bag. "Hi... Mr. Pedro told me I’m staying in here with you."

  "Never. Not in a million years," Subha snapped, stepping forward.

  Raksha tilted her head, a mocking glint dancing in her eyes. "Why? Are you afraid I’ll kill you in your sleep?"

  "In your dreams," Subha spat.

  "You should learn to accept reality, Subha," Raksha continued, her voice dropping to a smooth, provocative lilt. "Because like it or not, I'm your partner now."

  "Only in the eyes of Mr.Pedro," Subha replied, her gaze narrowing. "You can fool the two eyes of a man, but you cannot fool my third."

  Raksha’s smile didn't falter. " It’s a shame they didn't consult you before making the decision, but the deal is struck."

  Subha’s expression shifted from annoyance to cold fury. "You think you’re clever, don't you? You can fool the boys, but you can’t fool me. This girl—the body you’re wearing—had a family. They are in mourning while you pilot her remains like a puppet. It’s a sin. You are living in the skin of an innocent, and it makes you hideous. Both in face and in heart."

  The playful light in Raksha’s eyes vanished. For a moment, her goblin shadow flickered against the wall, jagged and sharp. Without a word, she turned and walked away.

  Raksha retreated to the cramped storage room perched on the rooftop of the Section D headquarters, dropping her bags onto the dusty floor with a heavy thud. The air inside was stale, smelling of old wood and forgotten records, so she stepped back out into the open expanse of the terrace.

  The night sky was a vast, glittering canvas of stars, washed in the silver glow of the moon. As she stood there, caught in the quiet stillness, the door to the terrace creaked open.

  "Sorry... Rohan left his camera up here," a voice called out.

  Raksha didn’t turn. Surya stepped onto the rooftop, his silhouette framed by the doorway. He spotted the camera resting on a weathered crate and picked it up, but as he turned to leave, the sight of her solitary figure against the horizon made him hesitate.

  "Are you alright, Raksha?" he asked softly.

  "Yeah," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the stars.

  Surya walked closer, his presence warm like the sun he drew power from. "Did the girls... did they not want you there?"

  "I’d do the same if I were them," Raksha murmured. "Who would trust a Goblin inhabiting the corpse of their colleague?"

  "You know," Surya said softly, "my mentor once told me: 'What happened cannot be reversed. It is only about the actions you take now to avoid repeating the past.'"

  Raksha offered a ghost of a smile. "Was that mentor Chandru?"

  ?"No way!" Surya exclaimed. "It was my village Karta, Mr. Pandu. I trained under him for six years; he was the one who inspired me to join the Blink."

  ?Raksha looked at him, her gaze softening. "Six years... that’s a long time to commit to one path."

  ?Surya nodded, then paused. "Wait—sorry, I get my numbers mixed up. It was actually three years. Vaishu is the longest; she took five years to qualify. I was... well, I was faster."

  ?Raksha didn't blink. "You don’t have to lie, Surya. I can tell when you're trying to downplay yourself."

  "That's not a lie!" Surya protested with a sheepish grin. "If you doubt me, ask Rohan... actually, no, don't ask him. Just ask me again. I'll give you the same answer."

  The playful banter faded, and Raksha looked at him with a strange, distant recognition. "You remind me of a boy I once knew. A long time ago."

  "That's nice," Surya replied, his tone warm. "Are you still in contact with him?"

  "No. I left him," she said, her voice trailing off into a whisper. "For his own safety."

  "But why?" Surya asked, his brow furrowing.

  "Because he is a human," Raksha said simply, "and I am a Goblin."

  Surya went still, visibly stunned by the idea of a Goblin forming a genuine bond with a human. Raksha noticed his shock and looked away.

  "We Goblins usually infiltrate... we act as agents, spies, shadows," she explained, her voice heavy. "We don't do it because we want to. We do it because we have no choice. The only way our species has survived is by tethering ourselves to the stronger Mythics."

  "Why can't you stick with humans?" Surya asked.

  Raksha turned back to him, her expression haunting. "You’ve seen my true form, Surya. Be honest... how many in the human community would ever accept me looking like that?"

  Before he could find the words to respond, the air turned cold. The wind surged, causing the ancient trees surrounding the HQ to groan and sway like giants in pain. Raksha’s pupils dilated into thin slits, her Goblin instincts screaming a warning.

  "Someone is here," she hissed, her voice dropping into a low, guttural growl.

  The warning came a second too late. A shadow blurred through the terrace window with impossible speed. A heavy metal gauntlet smashed into Surya’s face, the impact throwing him backward until he slammed into the wooden wall of the storage room.

  Dazed, Surya looked up. A figure stood in the moonlight, cloaked in dark, tactical gear. A reinforced metal gauntlet covered one hand, while the other gripped a wicked, curved scimitar that shimmered with a deadly edge.

  The intruder didn't even glance at Surya. His eyes were locked on Raksha with a terrifying, singular focus. When he spoke, his voice was ragged, vibrating with a volatile cocktail of grief and murderous intent.

  "Give her back," the masked man growled.

  Raksha backed away. "Give what back?"

  The man stepped forward, the gears in his gauntlet clicking as they locked into a combat stance.

  "My sister’s body."