Everything was going well.

For days, Arya continued helping wandering souls, fulfilling their last wishes—sometimes with kindness, sometimes with vengeance. Rapists, murderers, criminals—he judged them in ways the law never could. It felt like fate had chosen him as its executioner.

And then, one day, fate turned against us.

It started with a phone call.

We were sitting together, laughing about something unimportant. A brief moment of peace. Then my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen.

Rajavarthan Hospital.

A strange unease settled in my chest.

I answered.

A frantic voice cut through the line.

"Your father has been in a severe accident. He’s in critical condition. You need to come immediately!"

The world blurred. My ears rang.

I barely registered Arya grabbing my arm as I stumbled to my feet. Without a word, he followed me, matching my urgency.

We rushed to the hospital. My hands were ice-cold, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The moment we arrived, a doctor approached. His face was unreadable, but his words shattered me.

"His condition is critical. He has suffered a severe head injury. We need to operate immediately. The cost… one million rupees."

One million.

The number echoed in my mind, hollow and unreachable.

I turned to Arya, desperation thick in my voice. "What do we do? I don’t have that kind of money…"

Before I could finish, Arya was already making a call. His voice was calm. Unshaken.

An hour later, the money was arranged.

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me.

"Arya… where did you get it?"

His lips curled into the smallest, most heartbreaking smile.

"I sold my house."

The words hit like a dagger to the chest. I grabbed his wrist, my voice rising.

"What?! Where will you live now? Why did you do this?!"

His gaze was steady. Unwavering.

"It’s just a house, Nandhini," he said softly. "A house can be bought again. But life… once lost, can never return."

Tears burned my eyes. My throat closed up. I clung to him, sobbing into his chest.

He only held me tighter.

The surgery took hours. Every second dragged endlessly, stretching time into unbearable torment. I sat there, praying, hoping for a miracle.

And then…

The doctor emerged.

His face was void of emotion. Empty. Indifferent.

One word fell from his lips.

"Sorry."

A simple word. Too simple. Too cruel.

The ground beneath me crumbled.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t move. I just… shattered.

They spoke again. Their voices were dull, lifeless. Just another routine case to them.

"His organs can be donated. He can live on in others."

Did it matter anymore? My father was gone. His body was nothing more than a shell.

I nodded. A part of me screamed, but I silenced it.

The rituals were completed. The air in my home was heavy with grief.

But Arya… Arya was quiet. Too quiet.

I found him sitting alone, staring into the empty space in front of him, as if seeing something I couldn’t.

A chill crept into my skin.

"Arya?" I whispered.

He didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard. "Are you… talking to him?"

A long pause. Then, a slow nod.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Is it… my dad?"

Arya hesitated. His fingers clenched into fists.

Finally, he exhaled and whispered, "Yes."

Something about the way he said it sent an icy dread crawling up my spine.

I gripped the edge of my seat. "What… is he saying?"

Arya’s jaw tightened. His body trembled slightly, not with fear—but with rage.

When he spoke, his voice was a storm barely held back.

"Your father wasn’t supposed to die, Nandhini.

"His injury was minor. He was completely fine when he arrived at the hospital."

My stomach twisted. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick, too suffocating.

"What…?"

Arya looked me dead in the eyes. His voice shook with fury.

"Someone needed a kidney. A VIP. And your father was a perfect match."

The world tilted.

My fingers went numb.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head, refusing to believe it.

But Arya didn’t stop.

"They killed him. Your father begged them to let him live. But they showed no mercy."

I clutched my chest, struggling to breathe.

"Rajavarthan," Arya spat the name like poison. "He was the one who struck your father’s head inside the ICU. He made sure there was no way back."

Tears streamed down my face.

"No…"

Arya’s eyes burned with something raw. Uncontainable.

"Your father’s last wish," he said, "is for me to kill Rajavarthan."

I broke. Completely.

And Arya… he stood up. His entire body radiated something dark, something unstoppable.

"I’ll fulfill his wish."

That was the last time I saw him alive.

The next morning, the police called me.

"We found a body."

They called it an accident.

I knew better.

Arya was dead.