Rudra stepped into the Aditya's office, his boots heavy with blood and dust. In his hand, four cloth badges hung loosely between his fingers—two marked with swords, one with a shield, and the last with a spear. His face was smeared with streaks of crimson, some of it his own, most of it not.
The Aditya sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable. He saw Rudra, saw the blood, saw the badges. But he didn't react. He simply watched, silent.
Rudra took a step forward and dropped the badges onto the desk. The blood had soaked into the fabric, darkening the symbols they once proudly carried. The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating.
Still, the president Aditya didn't say a word.
Rudra exhaled slowly, his voice colder than before.
"They were under my supervision. And now, they are dead."
No response. No apology. No regret from the man sitting before him.
The office, usually filled with endless discussions of politics and power, now felt like a graveyard.
And this is the third time,Once again Rudra felt like he was done waiting for answers.
Rudra stepped forward, his voice sharp and laced with restrained fury. "There was no need for this. I could handle myself, but your decision cost four innocent lives."
The Aditya, The president remained silent, his gaze unwavering.
Rudra clenched his fists. "This is the third time I've seen that look of failure on your face. I'm really disappointed."
Still, no reaction.
Instead, the president, unfazed by Rudra's anger, calmly asked, "So, have you identified our real enemies?"
Rudra's eyes narrowed. "Yes. And I have only the last four theories to prove,"
The president leaned slightly forward. "And what happens if that theory turns out to be true?"
Rudra didn't answer immediately. He exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself for the inevitable.
"If that theory becomes real, then there is no turning back—for me, for you, and for the very reason behind Project M."
The air between them grew heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken truths.
The president finally spoke, but Rudra barely listened. His mind was already elsewhere—on the battlefield ahead, on the sacrifices made, and on the blood yet to be spilled.
Because once the truth was revealed, there would be no stopping what came next.
The Aditya's voice trembled, laced with frustration and guilt. "What can I do? What's wrong with me? As a president, every decision I've made was for the safety of the common people—was that my fault? As one of the founders of Project M, every step I've taken was to prevent that war—was that my fault? And as a friend, I kept my promise… only to prevent another fall of the Shield."
Rudra's expression darkened. His anger boiled over, his fists clenched, ready to lash out—
But before he could speak, a familiar, calm voice interrupted.
"It's not your fault."
The words carried wisdom, aged yet unwavering.
"If you want to blame something, blame the change in chess pieces."
Rudra froze. Just for a second. His head dipped slightly, his gaze fixed on the floor.
He didn't say a word.
Without another glance at the president, he turned to leave.
As he stepped toward the door, a firm yet gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
"It's been twenty years, Rudra. Please… come back."
The Süravarna, old sage's voice was steady, but there was a weight to it—something that carried the past, the pain, and an unspoken plea.
Rudra didn't respond. He didn't hesitate. He simply kept walking.
But before he left, he unsheathed his sword.
With slow, deliberate movements, he drove the blade into the center of the president's office floor. The steel embedded itself deep into the marble, standing upright—like a holy sword in stone, immovable, untouchable.
The air grew heavy. The symbolism was clear.
Then, raising his now-empty hand slightly, he locked eyes with the president one last time.
"I've made my decision. No turning back. No regrets."
His voice was cold, resolute.
"I will begin my hunt. If something happens to me… if my sword will glow. That will be my final message—as Rudra. "
With those final words, he stepped through the door, leaving behind only silence, the scar on the wood, and the weight of what was to come.
With that Once again Rudra, as The President bodyguard no as The Hunter begins his unfinished hunting.