The gym echoed with the sound of heavy breathing and the rhythmic thud of punching bags. Vikrant’s team was in the midst of their daily training session, the air thick with sweat and the raw intensity of their workout. The room was quiet except for the sound of boots hitting the floor and the sharp thwacks of gloves against bags.

Vikrant stood at the front of the room, his posture straight, his eyes scanning the team. His focus was unwavering, every movement deliberate and controlled, a testament to his disciplined nature. His usual indifference towards people and situations was apparent even in this setting—he didn’t speak much, just observed, and when he did speak, his words were always short, sharp, and precise.

"Everyone good?" Vikrant’s voice cut through the air, low but commanding.

"Yes, Sir," the team responded in unison, their voices a mix of exhaustion and respect.

Vikrant nodded, giving them a brief, approving glance. He was about to issue another round of instructions when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and frowned. It was the chief. His fingers swiped over the screen, and he put the phone to his ear, his demeanor shifting ever so slightly.

"Vikrant," the chief’s voice was tense, a stark contrast to his usual calm.

"We’re in the middle of something," Vikrant replied, his voice low, betraying no sign of urgency.

"I need you and your team on standby. Araina’s team is in trouble. They’re in the middle of a rescue mission, and they’re being overwhelmed. You’re our backup. Get to their location now."

Vikrant’s expression didn’t change, but his mind was already shifting into mission mode. "Understood. We’ll move out immediately."

He turned to his team. "Gear up. We’ve got a job to do."

The sound of boots hitting the ground echoed outside the building as Vikrant’s team arrived. Their presence was like a wave of controlled chaos, moving in sync, each member already in position, weapons raised, eyes sharp.

Vikrant led his team, his expression as hard and stoic as ever. He didn’t speak much—he didn’t need to. His team fell into place, taking positions as if they’d been through this a thousand times.

My team was still holding strong, but they needed the backup, and it arrived in full force. Vikrant’s team immediately began neutralizing the traffickers, their movements precise, lethal.

"Araina!" Vikrant’s voice cut through the noise, and I turned to find him across the room, his eyes locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world around us seemed to blur. There was something in his gaze, something more than just professional—something that told me he was here for more than just the mission.

"Cover the left side," I ordered, shaking off the moment. "We’ve got the girls secured, but we need to hold this position."

Vikrant nodded once, his face unreadable, and moved into position with his team. He didn’t say anything more, didn’t ask questions.

He just did his job.

I couldn’t help but notice how he moved—calm, focused, and methodical. It was like watching someone who was completely in control, someone who had no doubts, no fears. His team followed him without hesitation, their trust in him evident in every coordinated action.

The sound of gunfire lessened as Vikrant’s team methodically took down the traffickers, neutralizing the threat one by one. I could feel the shift in the air—the momentum was changing. With their backup, Araina’s team was able to take control of the situation.