Chapter 01: The Campus Crisis The student, with frantic steps, rushed through the hallway, pushing past startled colleagues. The to the professor’s cabin burst open, and he stood there, his breath short, eyes wide with panic. “What the hell is this recording, professor?” he demanded, his voice raw with anxiety. The professor, sitting calmly behind his desk, looked up in surprise. “Which recording?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his tone. The student, still agitated, pulled out his phone and played the clip. The professor stared at the screen, watching as a group of students—his own—could be seen ...Read More

Chapter: 2 : Shadows Within Shadows Over the next few weeks, Shabad couldn’t stop thinking about the diary. Late night, he’d sit in his room, piecing together the fragments Amir had shared. The photograph, the cryptic notes, the unexplained nightmares—they painted a picture of a man he barely recognized. Who was Amir before he became the man Shabad knew? And what would happen if those secrets finally came to light? The answers lay in that diary—and Shabad knew he couldn’t rest until he uncovered the truth. Shabad couldn’t shake the unease that settled over him after witnessing Amir’s secretive ...Read More

Chapter: 3 : Threads of Memory 1971 Karachi, Pakistan "Paak sarzameen had baad, Kishvari haseen had baad, Too nishaani aalee shaan, Arzi Paakistaan! Markazi yaqeen had baad…" The anthem echoed through the air, resonating with the pride and fervor of a nation that was still finding its footing, still grappling with its identity. "This Independence Day, let’s take pride in being Pakistani. Let’s acknowledge the sacrifice of our soldiers and our martyrs. Whatever we have right now is because of them, because of the sacrifices they made for this nation," the speaker proclaimed. "The Indian forces are trying to ...Read More

Chapter 4: Clashing Realities Present day: The Connaught Place Police Station was abuzz with its usual symphony of chaos: shrill ring of telephones, the rhythmic clatter of typewriters, and the occasional shouting match over misplaced case files. Just as the morning energy threatened to settle into its predictable hum, the double doors burst open with a resounding bang. Inspector Arjun Rathore stormed in, his neatly pressed uniform slightly disheveled and his shoes clicking sharply against the tiled floor. His face was a mix of exhaustion and determination, the kind of look that said he’d slept about as much as ...Read More