Rajat Tyagi The Return The rain hit Delhi like a warning—sharp, relentless, and out of season. Kabir Sharma sat alone in a dusty classroom of St. Stephen’s College, staring at the half-wiped blackboard. A half-scribbled line from Kafka still clung to the surface: “A cage went in search of a bird.” The metaphor wasn’t lost on him. He had been out for nearly seven years. Seven years since he walked away from the agency, from fieldwork, from blood-stained codes and sleepless nights filled with static voices on encrypted radios. Now, he taught post-colonial literature to half-interested students who didn’t know…

Ishani Deshpande Chapter 1: The First Messag The monsoon clouds hung low over Pune, casting a gray pall over the city. In the bustling suburb of Hinjewadi, the IT hub was winding down for the day. Office lights flickered off one by one, and the usual cacophony of honking horns and chatter began to subside. Amit Sharma sat alone in his modest apartment, the hum of his ceiling fan the only sound accompanying him. Stacks of coding manuals and project reports cluttered his desk, evidence of his dedication—or perhaps his obsession—with his work as a software engineer. He rubbed his…

Kushal Negi The Vanishing in Varanasi A cool mist rose from the ghats of the Ganges as dawn broke over Varanasi. Pilgrims chanted softly, their voices merging with the rhythmic splash of water. The ancient city stirred with spiritual energy as incense smoke curled through the narrow alleyways. The skyline, etched with temple spires and crumbling palaces, glowed in the faint golden hue of sunrise. But amidst this ancient tranquility, a modern mystery stirred—one that would ripple across the world. Dr. Aahana Rao, a celebrated quantum physicist and professor at Banaras Hindu University, vanished without a trace. She had been…

Anika Desai The road to the plantation was a winding ribbon of crumbling tar, carved into the steep, green hillsides of the Nilgiris. The ancient forest loomed on either side: gnarled oaks, eucalyptus, and tall blue gums tangled in vines. The fog rolled in thick as milk, seeping through the trees like a living thing. Sanjay Dutta pulled his car to a halt outside the weathered gates of the estate. His wife, Ananya, was dozing beside him, one hand resting protectively on their daughter Meera’s head. The child was only eight, and she stirred as the engine ticked into silence.…