Chapter 9: The Price of Peace

Flashes of fragmented memory, a dream shattered by sudden, blinding light.

“Rohan! Rohan! Rohan!” A small, bright girl’s voice. She was pulling a younger Rohan's hand, her smile wider than the sky.

Rohan looked at her, stunned. “Leka…!”

“Come on, Rohan! Let’s play together.” She dragged him toward the swings.

He watched her, astonishment giving way to pure adoration. They were swinging, soaring high. Rohan noted, "Leka is laughing."

She giggled, ecstatic. “Faster! Faster!”

The memory flashed white again.

Next, Leka and he were spinning dizzyingly on a roundabout. “Faster!” she cried, her voice ringing with happiness.

A violent flicker.

Leka was in the hospital bathroom, bent over, convulsing with coughs. Blood splattered the porcelain. Rohan watched, paralyzed by terror. “Leka, no! What happened to you?”

Leka looked at him, her eyes pleading, weak. “Help me,” she whispered, before collapsing to the tiled floor.

The scene flashed.

Leka lay in bed, confiding in Rohan.

“Rohan, my mother and father haven’t even come to see me. I don’t want to die alone like this. Please, will you stay beside me?”

Rohan choked back tears, his small hand clutching hers tightly. “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here, next to you.”

Flash.

Rohan was on the phone, voice tight with panic. “Mom, please, can you come quickly? Leka is very sick!”

“I’m coming, son. I’ll be there right away,” Priya, his mother, promised, her tone frantic.

A final, devastating flash.

Leka was gone. Rohan stood silently beside the empty hospital bed. He didn't speak to anyone. The profound, agonizing sorrow in his eyes was palpable in the silence he carried like a shroud.

Later, Krishna and Priya arrived. They were too late.

Rohan remained silent, refusing to look at them. Krishna and Priya tried to talk to him, but no words came from their son.

Defeated by his unyielding silence, Krishna and Priya began to leave. But Priya turned back, rushing to Rohan and pulling him into a fierce hug. “I don’t know what happened, or why you called crying. But I promise you this: whenever you need to talk, whenever you need to share anything, I will be there.”

As she spoke, Rohan buried his face into her shoulder, crying silently, uncontrollably, hidden from her view.

The flashes ended, snapping the imprisoned soul back to the present.

The young man—the impostor, Rohan—jolted awake. He saw Priya standing before him. In one sudden, uncontrolled movement, he lunged forward, clinging to her, and burst into tears.

The group of armed men and vengeful family members—Doga, Prakash, Vikram, and the others—froze, their weapons and intentions dropping instantly.

This was the mother who had loved him, returned to him now. He held her tight, his tears staining her shirt. His heart, full of a love he believed was once lost, swelled with sudden devotion.

The young man, Fake Krrish, poured out his agony.

“Why didn’t you come back, Mom? Why did you leave me?” His voice was a broken whimper, a child’s plea. “Even when I was living at home, I wasn’t this sad. I thought you would always return. But you abandoned me, so far away. Do you know how much it hurt, Mom? They called me names, but I tried to be a good boy. I never cried and complained to you. I endured it, I held it all inside. But then they killed Leka, my best friend. You would have rushed to her side; I know you would have! I called you, but you didn’t come. And she died alone, Mom. Alone!”

He looked up, tears streaming down his face. “Daddy never loved me. He was never there.”

Everyone present—the soldiers, the family, the alien Jadu—was openly weeping. Mouni was speechless, her cold exterior shattered. Sharmila, tears blurring her vision, reached out and stroked the crying boy's hair. "It's alright, it'll get better," she whispered.

Even the real Krrish, the father, was devastated, his mind reeling from the realization of how much pain his son had silently harbored. Doga lowered his gun, and Prakash stopped in his tracks. Vikram held Jadu, sharing the grief. Gayatri and Pooja were heartbroken by the young man’s sorrowful confession.

Fake Krrish looked into Priya’s face. She regarded him with pure, aching compassion. “I don’t know what happened to you,” she said gently. “I don’t know how much pain you’ve seen, or what mistakes your parents made. But this time, I’m here. Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you—as a mother, as a friend. Okay?”

At her words, the young man’s shocked expression slowly shifted to realization. He understood: she had forgotten everything.

Krrish, too, was stunned.

“You don’t remember anything, Priya?” Krrish asked, stepping forward.

“How do you know my name? Wait, who are you all?” Priya asked, confused.

Sharmila stepped in to explain what she had learned in the hospital. “The doctor said Priya lost her memory. She doesn’t remember anything. She only remembers Krishna uncle and Honey aunty.”

Krrish stared at his wife, his mind racing.

“Mom…” Fake Krrish whispered, soft enough only for himself to hear.

Priya looked past him. “Do you know where my Krishna is?”

Vikram took Jadu’s hand and approached. “If you don’t mind, with Jadu’s help, we can restore Priya’s memories.” He began to guide Jadu's hand toward Priya.

“Stop!” Krrish intervened, cutting them off. “Don't.”

Krrish looked at his wife, then at the grieving boy. “The memories of the past aren’t worth holding onto, or bringing back again and again.”

Vikram was left standing, perplexed.

Krrish stood up and turned to Priya. “Your Krishna will be back to you soon. Don't worry.”

Priya remained staring, confused by the strange pronouncement.

Krrish faced Doga, offering himself. “If you still wish to kill me, do it. I won’t try to escape this time.”

Doga looked at Krrish with a deep, sorrowful gaze. “You are already dead inside. I cannot inflict a greater wound than what you carry. The task I was sent to do is complete.” He turned and vanished, disappearing into the dust.

Mouni and Sharmila watched Doga’s exit.

Sharmila pleaded with Mouni. “You could stay with us! We could play every day, eat pizza, watch TV, and go to school together. You’d have so many friends, and we’d play so many games. Will you stay?”

Mouni smiled sadly at Sharmila’s earnest face. “This is not my place. I’ve always lived with those in the Chamber, and it is the only place I feel safe.”

Sharmila’s lip trembled, and she looked up, her eyes wide with a child’s sorrow. “Then… will you come visit me?”

Mouni couldn’t bear her face any longer. “I will come soon,” she promised, and walked away.

Sharmila watched her go, making a small, hurt face. Just before Mouni disappeared, she turned back.

“Hey, Sharmila.”

Sharmila looked up, excited. “Yes?”

Mouni offered a whispered reply: “Sorry for whatever I did.”

“Don’t go…” Sharmila pleaded, but Mouni was already gone, returning to the place from which she came.

Krrish walked over and hugged the boy tightly, speaking from his heart. “This is what I always wanted to tell you. I kept it all hidden inside. There hasn’t been a day I haven’t wondered how much better things would have been if I had told you sooner. I love you, my son. There hasn’t been a day I haven’t missed you. I longed to be with you, to talk to you, to play with you. I had so many hopes. But my responsibilities prevented me from fulfilling even one. It’s my fault. I am the reason you became this way.”

He paused. “Do you remember that day we made a cake together, and the whole thing fell all over me?”

Rohan’s eyes widened. “You remember that?”

“That is the best memory I ever crave for,” Krrish admitted. “I wanted to do so many things and spend so much time with you, but I was left a failed father. I’m sorry, my son. Forgive your father.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. This is all my fault,” Rohan whispered, his voice thick with guilt.

“It’s not your fault, son. I never once thought you did anything wrong.” Krrish comforted him. “Don’t cry, son.”

A few moments later, Prakash approached. He loaded the young man into the jeep and drove him away. Fake Krrish, now just Rohan, looked back at Priya and Krrish, his eyes wet with a sorrowful goodbye.

“Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad,” he murmured, a silent farewell only for himself.

Krrish watched him go, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Bye, Rohan,” he whispered in return.

As the police jeep vanished into the distance, Vikram approached Priya. “Priya ma’am, it would be good if you told us where Rohit is. Jadu is very anxious.”

“Yes, I thought Krrish might know,” she replied, turning to point to where Krrish had stood, but he was gone.

Just then, Priya noticed a person walking toward them from a distance. She strained to see through the clearing fog. When the figure was clear, she gasped. It was Krishna. Relief and joy washed over her, and tears of happiness streamed down her face. She ran toward him. Krishna, limping slightly from his injuries, rushed to meet her. They embraced fiercely, holding onto each other as if afraid of being separated again.

“Where did you go and leave me? Do you know how scared I was?” Priya cried into his chest.

“I thought I had lost you too,” Krishna admitted.

“Why didn’t you come to see me? Do you know how worried I was?” she chastised him, a loving anger in her voice.

Krishna quickly formulated a lie. “Ah, well, I… I was admitted to a different hospital after the accident.”

“As long as you’re alright now, that’s all that matters to me. Nothing happened to you,” Priya said, hugging him tighter.

Jadu walked slowly towards Krishna. “Rohit.”

Krishna looked confused. “You must be mistaken. Rohit is my father. He died.”

“I know,” Jadu replied, reaching out and gently taking Krishna’s hand.

As Jadu touched him, a surge of images flooded Krishna’s mind. He saw his father, Rohit. Rohit had the spirit of a child, but dreamed of becoming a great and respected man. Yet, his lack of ability prevented him from achieving his goals. Seeing Rohit and his mother in pain, Jadu gave Krishna these powers as a gift. It was this gift that led Rohit to Nisha. Nisha loved Rohit for who he was, and their love gave birth to Krishna. Even without the power and intelligence, Rohit never lost his courage or faith. He always believed in himself and others. Rohit may not have always done the right thing, but he always wanted to be helpful to everyone.

After the memories of Rohit faded, Krishna and Jadu sat alone.

“I always felt sad and asked why I got these powers,” Krishna confessed. “I wanted a normal life, like everyone else. But now that I know my father’s story—his courage and his perseverance—I want to be like him. I didn't know how my mother was, but now I feel like I've seen both my parents standing before me. Thank you, Jadu. Thank you for coming into my life and showing me how important these powers are.”

Jadu squeezed Krishna’s hand and smiled sweetly.

A few days later:

In a classroom, Vikram was enthusiastically lecturing students about space and aliens.

One student interrupted him. “Sir, you said there was proof that aliens exist. What proof is that?”

Vikram winked at Gayatri and Pooja, who smiled back.

Vikram, Gayatri, and Pooja had opened a small museum, filled with artifacts, photos, and information related to aliens.

One visitor challenged them. “You could have just edited this photo and put it here. How can we trust you?”

Vikram, Gayatri, and Pooja exchanged knowing looks and laughed. “Well, the ticket for that is separate,” Vikram announced. “Ten thousand rupees.”

He then pointed to Jadu. Everyone in the museum gasped in surprise.

Krishna and Priya dropped Sharmila off at school. Sharmila, bubbling with excitement, rushed inside.

Krishna watched her go, wondering to himself, Could a normal life truly be possible?

As Sharmila disappeared inside, Krishna and Priya turned around, and saw Honey waiting.

“Krishna, I have an offer for you,” Honey said. “A great job, excellent pay. You can work the hours you choose, which leaves you plenty of time to look after Priya and Sharmila. What do you say?”

Krishna beamed. “I accept.”

“When can you start?” Honey asked.

Krishna looked thoughtful, a hint of steel in his eyes. “Before that, I have one small thing to do.”

In the jail, Fake Krrish—Rohan—was heavily restrained, sitting silently with his head bowed.

Prakash approached the cell. “You have a visitor.” He stood aside.

Krrish walked slowly into the viewing area.

Rohan looked up, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “How is Mom? How are you?”

“Mom is fine,” Krrish replied.

“What happened? Why did you come?”

“I will find a way to get you out of here,” Krrish promised. “No matter what, I will free you.”

“And then what? What happens after you free me?” Rohan asked.

Krrish was silent, unable to answer what came next.

“Will you free me, only to give Mom back the memories of her pain, her guilt, her regret?” Rohan pressed.

“Please, no, I wouldn’t do that,” Krrish insisted.

“Mom is finally at peace now. I don’t want to hurt her anymore. Please, do me a favor.”

“Tell me, son. I’ll do anything,” Krrish pleaded.

“Don’t ever come back here again.”

“Don’t talk like that, son!”

“Officer, take him away,” Rohan commanded, turning to Prakash. “And please, never let him visit me again. I don’t want to see anyone.”

Prakash and the guards began escorting Krrish out, despite his frantic protests.

“Don’t talk like that! I will get you out! I promise! I’ll take care of everything! Don’t listen to anyone here. I’ll be back for you…” Krrish’s voice faded as he was dragged away.

Silence descended after Krrish was gone.

A tear escaped Rohan’s eye, falling onto the chains binding his wrists. He wiped the tears away, his eyes—filled with sadness and profound sacrifice—staring solemnly ahead.

Far away, in a remote space lab, screams echoed. They were not the cries of an animal, but the tortured sounds of another alien, similar to Jadu.

Lightning sparked. The screams grew louder, faster. The creature’s body was covered in sores and lesions. It was clear from its mutilated form how much torture it had endured.

“Rohini ma’am, we have the alien coordinates!” Robert announced, rushing over.

Rohini’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Finally! Our journey is about to begin. Prepare the ships!”

Outside, countless alien spacecraft lay replicated, ready for launch. They were fully prepared for a war, a battle against this new species. If they caused such horrific devastation just by finding one alien, what would happen if they gained control of the entire planet?

Rohini stared at the fleet, a predatory smile spreading across her face.

“Now,” she declared, “the hunt begins.”

The End.