They stood together in silence, in the ruins beneath the Institute — Maya with her secrets, Aarav with his scars, the air between them heavy with truths neither wanted to speak first.
Above them, the city churned.
The Helix twisted.
And time ran out.
The next day, an envelope slid under Aarav's door.
Black seal. Crimson ink. No signature.
Inside, just three words:
"Demonstrate. Or Die."
The Order had made its move.
Now, it was Aarav's turn.
Aarav came to know that Maya used her authority to request the elders for a last chance and by Aarav was once again able to enter the order and investigate .
He planned his rebellion with the precision of a surgeon and the patience of a prophet.
By day, he attended the secret Helix meetings. Sat among the shadows. Chanted the words. Nodded when spoken to.
He wore the mask.
He played the part.
And when Maya touched his arm, he smiled — the kind of smile that looked real but wasn't.
Because inside, he was burning.
A fire he had built, log by log, lie by lie, to devour his fear.
He knew she was watching.
Always watching.
Testing him.
Loving him, maybe — in her own silent, splintered way.
But she had made her choice long ago.
And it hadn't been him.
Maya was again devoured by spiral and she was unable to think for herself, she was just a weapon to be used by the order, only completing the tasks assigned to her blindly .
The final trial came without warning.
A slip of paper appeared in his coat pocket during a Helix briefing. No name. No time. Just a single phrase:
"Demonstrate."
He understood.
The Order wanted proof.
Loyalty was no longer something you whispered. It had to bleed.
That night, Maya found him on the rooftop where everything had begun.
The wind howled like it remembered the vows they'd spoken here. The lies. The truths. The birth of something between love and ruin.
She stood in silence for a moment, then stepped aside.
And Aarav saw him.
Kabir.
Tied to the railing. Blindfolded. Gagged. Struggling.
Aarav's first friend at the Institute. The one who helped him survive the brutal early weeks — before the masks, before the blood.
Maya held out a knife.
"They want a demonstration," she said softly.
"Proof of your loyalty."
A beat.
Then, lower:
"Do it. Or die with him."
Aarav looked at the blade.
At Kabir.
At Maya.
She wasn't wearing the mask tonight.
And yet, she might as well have.
Time slowed.
Every breath was a lifetime.
Every heartbeat, a scream.
And then Aarav moved.
Not outward.
Inward.
Before Maya could react, he slashed the rope holding Kabir.
Kabir collapsed to the rooftop floor, gasping, dazed.
Maya's hand twitched — going for something hidden beneath her coat.
Too late.
Aarav spun and drove the knife — not into Kabir.
Not into Maya.
Into the gas line.
Running along the edge of the rooftop.
The explosion was instant.
A roar of fire and metal.
The building shook. The skyline lit up like a second sun.
Flames painted the night. Glass shattered. The spiral cracked.
In the chaos, Aarav grabbed Kabir by the collar and ran.
Through smoke.
Through sirens.
Through the roar of something ancient and angry.
He didn't look back.
Not at the rooftop.
Not at the wreckage.
Not at Maya.
But her scream — not of pain, but of rage — chased him down every stairwell.
That night, the Order lost control.
And a rebellion lit its first bonfire in the sky.
When Aarav was recollecting his memories of that night Maya seemed different she not the same as she was in the ruins , something had changed like she was imprisoned in her own mind .
There was not a single shred of life , empathy emotions left in her eyes .