Chetan remained standing in the middle of the narrow road, the radio still pressed against his palm while the others waited for him to explain what he had heard. The transmission had lasted only a few seconds, and the static had swallowed most of the words, but the final sentence was difficult to dismiss. Do not let them reach the hills. It was not the kind of warning a military evacuation message should contain. If Lonavala was supposed to be a coordination point for surviving civilians, then why would someone instruct another unit to prevent people from reaching it? Chetan replayed the transmission in his mind, trying to determine whether he had misunderstood the voice. Perhaps the speaker had said something else. Perhaps the message had been interrupted. Yet his instincts told him that the warning mattered.
Meera finally asked, “What exactly did you hear?”
Chetan looked at the radio before answering. “The transmission was badly damaged by static, but the final words were clear enough. Someone said, ‘Do not let them reach the hills.’ I cannot be certain whether they were referring to us, civilians in general, or something else entirely.”
Vikram's expression became serious. “That changes things.”
“It does,” Chetan agreed. “But it does not necessarily mean we should turn around.”
Sameer looked toward the distant hills. “If someone is trying to stop people from reaching Lonavala, maybe the military base there is already under attack.”
“That is possible.”
“Then why are we still going there?”
Chetan looked at him. “Because the alternative is returning to Pune without knowing what is happening. The underground activity is spreading westward, and the military has already warned people to leave the city. If Lonavala is compromised, we need to know before we reach it. If it is still functioning, it may be the safest place we can find.”
Vikram considered his words and nodded slowly. “So we continue, but we do not blindly follow the road.”
“Exactly.”
They resumed their journey, although the mood had changed. Nobody spoke much during the next hour. The landscape gradually became more rugged as the flat agricultural land gave way to low hills and patches of forest. The road narrowed in several places, and vegetation had begun reclaiming sections of the asphalt. Large roots had pushed through the surface, while vines climbed over abandoned road signs and telephone poles. The mutation was becoming increasingly visible here. It was not limited to animals anymore. The environment itself seemed to be changing.
Chetan stopped beside a tree whose trunk had split into several thick branches near the ground. The bark was unusually dark, and faint ridges covered its surface like scales. He touched it cautiously.
[Mutated biological material detected.]
[Quality: D.]
He withdrew his hand without using Golden Touch. There was little reason to waste an enhancement on a tree unless they discovered a practical use for the material. He had begun to understand that his ability was more valuable when used selectively. Randomly improving everything he touched would not help them survive. What mattered was identifying materials that could provide genuine advantages.
Meera noticed his hesitation. “You are becoming more careful with the Golden Touch.”
“I have to be. I still do not understand all its limits.”
“You have improved several materials already.”
“That does not mean I can depend on it.”
She nodded. “Because the result is random.”
“And because we do not know what happens when the enhancement fails.”
Meera looked thoughtful. “Has it ever failed?”
“Not recently.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“It is, but it also makes me suspicious.”
She smiled faintly. “You manage to make even good news sound dangerous.”
Chetan laughed. “That is because good news has a habit of becoming dangerous lately.”
Their conversation was interrupted when Nikhil suddenly stopped ahead of them.
Chetan immediately noticed.
“What did you hear?”
Nikhil turned toward the forest. “Vehicles.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere ahead.”
Vikram moved closer. “How many?”
“I am not sure. At least two.”
Chetan listened.
At first he heard nothing.
Then the faint vibration of an engine reached him through the trees.
He raised a hand and guided everyone off the road.
They moved into a shallow depression beside the vegetation and waited.
Several minutes later, a convoy appeared.
Three vehicles.
The first was a military jeep with faded markings. The second was a large truck carrying equipment under a canvas cover. The third looked like a civilian SUV that had been reinforced with welded metal plates.
Chetan watched carefully.
The vehicles slowed as they approached.
The military jeep stopped.
Two soldiers stepped out.
They were exhausted.
Their uniforms were dirty, their weapons held loosely, and one of them had a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his neck.
The second soldier opened the back of the jeep and looked inside.
“Nothing,” he said.
The other soldier shook his head. “We cannot stay here.”
Chetan remained hidden.
The soldiers did not appear to be searching for survivors. They were searching for something else.
The truck behind them suddenly stopped.
A man climbed down from the passenger side. He was wearing a military uniform, but his equipment was noticeably different from that of the two soldiers.
He approached the jeep.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing.”
The man looked toward the forest.
“Then we continue.”
The first soldier hesitated. “Sir, we have already lost two teams.”
“I know.”
“If Sector Four is compromised, we should return to the checkpoint.”
The officer's face hardened. “The checkpoint is gone.”
Silence followed.
The soldier lowered his head.
The officer continued, “Our orders are to reach the hills before nightfall. We have to confirm whether the western corridor is still open.”
Chetan's attention sharpened.
The hills.
The same hills.
The officer climbed back into the vehicle.
Before the convoy moved again, one of the soldiers looked toward the roadside.
For a moment, Chetan thought the soldier had spotted them.
Then the soldier turned away.
The vehicles continued west.
Chetan waited until they were out of hearing range before emerging.
Vikram looked at him.
“They are heading toward Lonavala.”
“Yes.”
“And they said the checkpoint is gone.”
Chetan nodded.
“Which checkpoint?”
“I do not know.”
Sameer looked worried. “Should we follow them?”
Chetan considered it.
“Not directly. We will maintain distance.”
They continued along the road.
The convoy remained ahead of them, occasionally visible through gaps in the trees. Chetan used it as a reference point but refused to approach too closely. If the military group was traveling toward the same destination, following them might provide information while reducing the risk of getting lost.
After nearly an hour, the terrain became steeper.
The first hills of the Western Ghats rose in the distance.
The vegetation was thicker here, and the road climbed gradually through a forested section. Chetan noticed that the temperature had dropped slightly, and the air felt different. Moisture hung among the trees, carrying the smell of soil, leaves, and something else he could not immediately identify.
Nikhil suddenly stopped again.
This time his expression was different.
“What is it?” Chetan asked.
“I can smell blood.”
“From the convoy?”
“No.”
Nikhil pointed toward the forest.
“There.”
Chetan looked in that direction.
They followed a narrow trail away from the road.
After approximately fifty meters, they found the remains of a military vehicle.
It had crashed into a tree.
The front had been crushed.
The doors were torn away.
There were bloodstains across the interior.
But there were no bodies.
Chetan crouched beside the wreckage.
His senses immediately became sharper.
Something had happened here recently.
Very recently.
He noticed deep scratches across the metal frame.
They were not claw marks.
They were too straight.
Almost like something had dragged a blade across the vehicle.
Then he noticed a small object lying beneath the wreck.
A military identification tag.
He picked it up.
The same symbol was engraved on its surface.
Three vertical lines crossed by a horizontal line.
Chetan's expression darkened.
Meera noticed.
“Again?”
He nodded.
“This symbol is everywhere.”
Vikram examined the vehicle.
“Do you think these soldiers were part of the same unit?”
“Probably.”
Nikhil crouched near the wreckage.
“There were four people.”
Everyone looked at him.
“How do you know?” Sameer asked.
Nikhil pointed toward the ground. “Four different blood scents.”
Chetan studied him.
Nikhil had become increasingly useful because of his enhanced senses, but every improvement came with another concern. His ability was developing faster than anyone could predict, and Chetan still did not know whether the physical changes would eventually affect his behavior.
“Can you tell where they went?” Chetan asked.
Nikhil closed his eyes.
He followed the scent for several moments before pointing deeper into the forest.
“They were dragged that way.”
Chetan looked at the trail.
The vegetation had been disturbed.
Branches were broken.
Leaves were crushed.
Whatever had happened, at least some of the soldiers had been taken alive.
“Should we follow?” Vikram asked.
Chetan looked toward the road.
The convoy was still moving.
“No.”
Sameer looked surprised.
“Why not?”
“Because we do not know what took them.”
“We might find survivors.”
“We might.”
Chetan stood.
“But we could also walk directly into whatever killed them.”
Sameer looked dissatisfied but did not argue.
They returned to the road.
As they continued upward, Chetan kept checking the radio. Static dominated the frequency, but occasionally fragments of transmissions broke through.
“...Sector Five...”
“...movement near the ridge...”
“...repeat, do not engage...”
Then silence.
A few minutes later, another transmission appeared.
This one was clearer.
“Any civilian groups approaching the western hills are instructed to remain on the marked route and await military escort.”
Chetan exchanged a glance with Vikram.
The message sounded reassuring.
But after everything they had seen, Chetan had learned not to trust reassurance without context.
The convoy ahead suddenly stopped.
Chetan immediately signaled the group to hide.
The three military vehicles were positioned across the road.
Soldiers had exited and were looking toward the forest.
Chetan could not hear what they were saying.
Then one soldier raised his weapon.
Another pointed toward the trees.
The convoy began moving again, but much faster this time.
Chetan waited.
Something had frightened them.
“What did they see?” Meera whispered.
“I do not know.”
Nikhil's face tightened.
“I do.”
Chetan looked at him.
“What?”
“There is something in the forest.”
“How close?”
Nikhil looked around.
“Close enough.”
A faint movement appeared between the trees.
Chetan focused.
One of the strange humanoid creatures stepped into view.
Then another.
Then another.
They were not approaching the road.
They were following the military convoy.
Chetan watched them carefully.
“They are not attacking.”
Meera nodded.
“They are watching.”
Again.
The same behavior.
But this time there were more of them.
Chetan counted at least nine.
Then he noticed something that made his blood run cold.
One of the creatures had something in its hand.
A military helmet.
The creature lifted it toward its face and smelled it.
Then it looked directly toward Chetan.
For several seconds, neither moved.
The creature lowered the helmet.
It made the same strange sound they had heard before.
“Help.”
But this time, Chetan heard something else beneath the word.
A vibration.
A pulse.
Something that seemed to resonate through the ground.
Nikhil suddenly grabbed Chetan's arm.
“They are afraid.”
Chetan looked at him.
“What?”
“The creatures.”
Nikhil stared toward the forest.
“They are afraid of something behind them.”
The strange creatures began retreating.
Not toward the deeper forest.
Away from it.
Chetan turned his head.
The forest behind them was completely still.
Then his Predator's Perception detected a vibration.
Far below the ground.
It was moving.
Slowly.
Westward.
Toward the hills.
Chetan's system appeared.
[Anomalous mutation energy detected.]
[Distance: 4.7 kilometers.]
[Direction: West.]
[Mutation activity increasing.]
Chetan stared at the notification.
The distance was decreasing.
Whatever was beneath the earth was approaching.
And the military convoy was traveling directly toward it.
Chetan looked at the hills rising ahead.
For the first time, he understood why the military transmissions had sounded so desperate.
The western corridor was not simply an evacuation route.
It was a race.
And nobody seemed to know exactly what they were racing against.
Chetan turned toward the others.
“We need to reach the military convoy before they reach the hills.”
Vikram frowned. “Why?”
“Because they may have information we need.”
“And if they refuse to stop?”
Chetan looked toward the forest.
“Then we find another way.”
They began moving again, faster than before.
The road climbed steadily through the forest, winding between steep slopes and dense vegetation. Somewhere ahead, the military convoy was disappearing around a bend.
Behind them, beneath layers of soil and stone, something enormous continued moving west.
And several kilometers away, hidden among the hills, a low mechanical alarm suddenly began to sound.
Chetan heard it faintly.
Then the radio crackled.
A frightened voice came through.
“Western coordination point to all units. We have lost visual contact with Sector Four.”
Static.
Then the voice returned, much weaker.
“Something is beneath the facility.”
A pause.
“Repeat. Something is beneath the facility.”
The transmission ended.
Chetan stopped walking.
The hills were no longer simply their destination.
They were where the answers were waiting.
And possibly where the thing beneath the earth was going.