The question that spread across the country was simple.

  Why?

  Why would someone like Aarav reveal the existence of the Monster?

  For months he had operated like a shadow. No face. No trace. No proof. The world argued endlessly about whether the Monster even existed. And then, suddenly, he appeared above the High Court. He spoke to the crowd. He stopped bullets in midair. He proved to the entire nation that the Monster was real.

  From a strategic perspective, it was a terrible decision. A highly intelligent individual with unmatched abilities had just destroyed his greatest advantage, anonymity.

  Two serious mistakes.

  First, he revealed that the Monster truly existed.

  Second, he exposed the scale of his power.

  To many observers, that made him look like an idiot. But the truth was far more complicated. Aarav was not careless. He was not impulsive. He had always been calm, calculating, and painfully patient. Which made his decision even more confusing. Because the truth was that Aarav had expected something from the world.

  He had believed that once people saw what he was doing, once they understood that the victims were criminals who had escaped justice, the world would begin to change.

  He thought people would finally question the system. He thought society would ask why such a figure had to exist in the first place. Instead, the opposite happened. The nation panicked. News channels called him a terrorist. Politicians demanded his capture. The government formed task forces to hunt him down.

  People who had ignored corruption for decades suddenly united with urgency but not against injustice.

  Against him.

  That was the moment Aarav realized something uncomfortable. Human beings rarely cared about justice itself. They cared about stability. Even if the system was broken… even if criminals walked free… people preferred the illusion of order.

  Aarav had underestimated that. In many ways, he had been naive. He believed humanity would recognize the logic of what he was doing.

  But humans were not logical creatures. They were emotional. Fearful. Defensive. The moment he disrupted their fragile sense of order, they turned against him. And that realization changed something inside Aarav. If the world refused to acknowledge the truth while he remained hidden, then perhaps hiding was meaningless. If society insisted on calling him a monster, then perhaps it deserved to see one.

  So he revealed himself. Not his face. But his existence. It was not a tactical move. It was a statement. A declaration that the Monster was no longer a rumor whispered in news studios.

  The Monster was real.

  And whether the world accepted him or not…

  His judgment would continue.

  The CBI, on the other hand, had quietly obtained something that could potentially expose the true identity of the Monster.

  Director Anant Mehra sat in his office, leaning back in his chair while studying the large screen mounted on the wall. In front of him stood Raghav and Aditi, both waiting to understand why they had been called so suddenly.

  On the screen played the café CCTV footage from the evening when they had been observing Aarav. The same day the journalist Raghunath Sinha had been murdered.

  Mehra had extracted the footage the very next day after the incident. Something about that evening had continued to disturb him. A quiet instinct inside him insisted that something had not been right. And Mehra had learned long ago that his instincts rarely lied.

  His gut feeling that time had been correct.

  “Sir, you called us here?” Aditi said.

  “Yes,” Mehra replied calmly, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. “There is something I want both of you to see.”

  Raghav stepped closer to the display.

  “What is it, sir?”

  Mehra rewound the footage and played it again. The video showed the crowded café exactly as they remembered it. Students talking, waiters moving between tables, the television mounted on the wall broadcasting the news.

  And Aarav sitting calmly across from Nisha. Everything appeared completely normal.

  Raghav folded his arms. “I don’t see anything unusual.”

  Aditi nodded slightly. “Neither do I.”

  Mehra paused the video. “Look at the timestamp,” he said.

  The screen showed 02:54.

  “Watch carefully,” Mehra continued. “Focus on Aarav.”

  The footage played again.

  For a moment, nothing seemed different. Aarav was sitting exactly where they remembered him, his posture relaxed, his head slightly tilted toward Nisha as if he were listening to her speak.

  Then Mehra paused the video again. “Look at his head,” he said quietly. “Very carefully.”

  Raghav leaned closer to the screen. Aditi squinted. For several seconds neither of them spoke. Then Raghav frowned.

  “Wait… what is that?”

  Aditi stepped forward. “It looks like… distortion.”

  Around Aarav’s head, the air seemed to flicker for a brief fraction of a second almost like a ripple passing through a reflection.

  Not enough for an ordinary person to notice. But once seen, it was impossible to ignore. Mehra rewound the footage again. The distortion appeared for less than half a second before disappearing completely.

  Raghav’s expression slowly changed. “That’s not a camera glitch.”

  “No,” Mehra said calmly.

  Aditi’s voice dropped slightly. “It looks like… a projection error.”

  Mehra nodded. “Yes.”

  Silence filled the room.

  Raghav straightened slowly. “You’re saying… the person sitting there wasn’t actually Aarav?”

  Mehra looked back at the paused frame on the screen.

  “No,” he said quietly. "I’m saying the person sitting there… was an illusion.”

  Aditi stared at the image. “If that’s true,” she whispered, “then Aarav wasn’t in the café at all.”

  Mehra turned toward them.

  “And that means,” he said slowly, “our suspect had twenty minutes to commit a murder and return without anyone noticing.”

  Raghav exhaled sharply. “Sir…”

  Mehra’s eyes remained fixed on the screen.

  “We’ve been hunting a ghost.”

  He paused. "And now we finally know who the Monster is.”

  Then suddenly the silence inside the CBI operations room was broken by the loud voice of a television anchor.

  The news channel playing on the corner screen switched to a breaking alert.

  “BREAKING NEWS – HORRIFIC SCENE OUTSIDE PUNE HIGH COURT.”

  All three officers turned their heads immediately. The screen showed chaotic footage. Police vehicles were arriving in large numbers while reporters struggled to control the crowd.

  “What the hell is this?” Raghav muttered.

  The camera zoomed toward the front of the High Court building. Five bodies were hanging high above the entrance. The reporters were shouting over each other as the footage continued.

  “Sources confirm the victims have been identified as Abhinav Pandey, Sarfaraz Alam, Manoj Sharma, Jaspreet Singh, and Abhishek Choudhary… all individuals previously accused in multiple criminal and corruption cases.”

  Aditi stepped closer to the television, her expression turning pale.

  “This… this just happened.”

  The broadcast continued, showing terrified civilians standing behind police barricades while dozens of phones recorded the scene. Mehra stared at the screen without speaking. Then the footage changed.

  The camera captured something that made the entire room fall silent.

  Above the High Court building, a dark figure was floating in the air. The masked face. The glowing presence. The Monster.

  The broadcast replayed the moment when bullets fired by the police had stopped midair before falling harmlessly to the ground.

  Raghav whispered under his breath.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “My God…”

  The anchor’s voice trembled slightly. “Authorities confirm that the mysterious figure believed to be responsible for multiple high-profile killings has now appeared publicly for the first time.”

  The screen showed the Monster rising into the sky before vanishing. The video ended. For several seconds, no one spoke. Then Mehra slowly reached for his coat.

  Raghav looked at him. “Sir?”

  Mehra put the coat on without rushing. “This has gone beyond a criminal investigation,” he said calmly.

  Aditi understood immediately. “You mean…”

  “Yes,” Mehra replied. “The CBI cannot handle this alone anymore.”

  Raghav crossed his arms. “Sir, that thing stopped bullets in midair.”

  Mehra looked at him. "Exactly.”

  Within the next hour, the three of them were inside a heavily guarded government building in New Delhi. The emergency meeting had been called immediately after the High Court incident went viral across the country.

  Inside the conference room sat several senior officials, including representatives from the Home Ministry and the military command.

  The atmosphere inside the room was tense. On the large screen, the footage of the High Court event played again. The floating figure. The bullets frozen in midair. The speech. When the video ended, silence filled the room.

  One of the senior officials spoke first.

  “So this is the man you believe is responsible for everything?”

  Mehra nodded slowly. "Yes.”

  “And you believe you know who he is?”

  “We have a strong suspect.”

  The official leaned forward. “Who?”

  Mehra did not hesitate. “Aarav Vardan. Third-year computer science student. Pune.”

  A murmur spread across the room.

  “A college student?” one officer said in disbelief.

  Raghav spoke this time. “The café footage proves he used some kind of projection to create an alibi while committing another murder.”

  The military officer sitting at the end of the table leaned back. "And you believe this student is capable of all this?”

  Mehra looked at the paused frame of the Monster floating above the High Court.

  “I don’t believe anything anymore,” he said quietly. “But we are going to find out.”

  The Home Secretary looked toward the military representative.

  “If this individual truly possesses the abilities shown in that video…” He paused. “Then conventional arrest procedures will not work.”

  The military officer nodded. “We will deploy a tactical unit.”

  Raghav frowned slightly. “You’re sending soldiers after a college student?”

  The officer’s voice remained calm. “We are sending soldiers after something that stopped bullets in midair.”

  Mehra stood up. “We’re not here to start a war,” he said. “We’re here to confront him.”

  The Home Secretary looked directly at him. “Director Mehra, are you certain you want to confront this person directly?”

  Mehra’s expression did not change. “Yes.”

  “And where will you find him?”

  Mehra answered without hesitation. “At his college.”

  Several hours later, a convoy of government vehicles entered the quiet campus of the engineering college in Pune.

  Military trucks stopped near the main entrance. Students who had arrived for their morning classes stared in confusion as armed soldiers stepped out of the vehicles.

  Inside the hostel building, Aarav Vardan had no idea that the Hunter had finally arrived at his door.

  The morning lecture had already begun when Aarav sat quietly among the other students in the classroom. The professor stood near the projector screen, explaining database normalization while writing diagrams on the board. The room carried the usual sounds of academic routine: keyboards clicking softly, pages turning, and the low murmur of students discussing notes with each other.

  Aarav listened calmly, occasionally typing something on his laptop as he followed the lecture. From the outside he appeared no different from any other student in the class. Nothing about his posture or expression suggested that the entire nation had begun searching for someone who looked exactly like him.

  The classroom door suddenly opened. At first the professor assumed it was a late student entering. He continued speaking for a moment before noticing that four armed soldiers had stepped into the room. Their presence immediately silenced the entire class.

  The professor lowered the marker slowly. “Excuse me,” he said cautiously, “is there a problem?”

  The soldiers did not respond to him. One of them scanned the room carefully before speaking in a firm voice.

  “Aarav Vardan.”

  The name echoed across the lecture hall. Every student instinctively turned their head toward the middle row where Aarav was seated. Anish, who sat two rows behind him, stared in confusion while Ritesh removed one side of his headphones.

  Aarav slowly lifted his head. For a brief moment he looked directly at the soldiers pointing their weapons toward him. There was no visible fear on his face, only a quiet curiosity.

  “Stand up,” one of the soldiers ordered.

  The professor stepped forward nervously. “What exactly is going on here? This is a classroom.”

  Again, no one answered him. Aarav calmly closed his laptop and stood from his seat. The soldiers approached him immediately. One of them secured his hands while the others kept their rifles trained on him. The class watched in stunned silence as the student they had spent months studying with was escorted out of the room under armed supervision.

  Whispers quickly spread across the lecture hall.

  “Why are soldiers here?”

  “Did he do something?”

  Anish stood frozen near his bench, unable to process what he had just seen. Ritesh leaned toward the window, watching as the soldiers led Aarav down the corridor.

  “Bro… what is happening?” he whispered.

  Downstairs, the soldiers escorted Aarav through the academic building and toward the main auditorium hall of the college. The area had already been cleared. Students and staff were being held outside while a small group of government officials waited inside.

  At the center of the hall stood Director Anant Mehra.

  Raghav stood beside him while several soldiers positioned themselves around the room. When Aarav was brought forward, the guards stepped aside, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the hall.

  For a moment, neither man spoke.

  Mehra studied him carefully, observing every small detail in his expression. The boy standing in front of him looked remarkably ordinary. If not for the investigation, there would have been nothing about Aarav Vardan that suggested the terrifying figure the country had begun calling the Monster.

  Finally Mehra broke the silence. "Aarav Vardan,” he said in a calm voice, “you’ve managed to attract quite a lot of attention.”

  Aarav looked around the large hall for a moment. The entire college seemed to have gathered there. Professors stood near the walls whispering nervously among themselves. Several students had been held back by the soldiers, their faces filled with confusion and curiosity. Among them Aarav noticed the familiar faces of Anish and Ritesh, both staring at him in disbelief.

  Near the front row stood Nisha. Her expression was different from the others. She was not whispering or panicking. She was simply watching him, trying to understand what was happening.

  For a brief second Aarav’s eyes met hers. Then he turned back toward Mehra. The faint smile on his face had not disappeared.

  “What is this, sir?” Aarav asked, looking at the restraints on his hands. “Why am I being treated like this?”

  Director Anant Mehra stood a few steps away from him, calm but watchful. “Because we suspect you,” he replied. “We suspect that you are the Monster. So answer me honestly, Aarav Vardan. Are you the Monster?”

  A wave of murmurs spread through the hall as soon as the words were spoken. Students began whispering to one another while professors exchanged uneasy glances. The tension in the room grew heavier with every passing second.

  Aarav slowly turned his head and looked around the hall. Faces filled the room, many of them familiar. Some watched him with disbelief, others with fear. Among them he noticed Anish and Ritesh standing near the back, both frozen in confusion. Not far from them stood Nisha, her expression far more complicated than the rest. For the first time since the confrontation had begun, Aarav felt a tightening in his chest. It was not fear for himself, but fear of losing the people who mattered to him.

  After a brief silence he looked back at Mehra.

  “This seems to be a misunderstanding, sir,” Aarav said calmly. “I’m just an ordinary student.”

  Mehra did not react. His gaze remained steady.

  “We have evidence against you,” he said.

  Aarav’s expression sharpened slightly. “What evidence?”

  Mehra gestured toward the screen behind him. The display came to life immediately. First appeared a database record from AirFlow’s complaint system. The screen showed a specific entry.

  Complaint ID: 187.

  Raghav stepped forward and spoke clearly so everyone in the hall could hear. “This complaint was filed against AirFlow internet services. Forty-six times. All from the same user.”

  The screen zoomed in on the details.

  Name: Aarav Vardan.

  Age: 19.

  Whispers rippled through the hall. Before anyone could process the information, the display changed again. This time the café CCTV footage appeared. It was the same evening when the journalist Raghunath Sinha had been murdered.

  Mehra stepped closer to the screen and paused the video. “Watch carefully,” he said.

  The footage moved forward until the timestamp reached 02:54. Aarav could be seen sitting calmly across from Nisha. For a moment nothing seemed unusual.

  Then Mehra zoomed into the frame around Aarav’s head. A faint distortion appeared in the air, lasting less than a second. A ripple. Then it vanished. The room fell silent.

  Mehra turned toward Aarav again. “That distortion,” he said quietly, “is not a camera glitch. It is a projection error.”

  Raghav continued, his voice steady. “Which means the person sitting in that café was not actually you.

  Aarav’s calm expression trembled for a brief moment. His mind raced as he processed what they had discovered. For a few seconds the whispers around the hall seemed to blend into a distant noise. But then he inhaled slowly and forced himself back into control.

  When he spoke again, his voice had regained its calm.

  “Let’s assume something,” Aarav said.

  The murmurs died instantly.

  “Let’s assume I am the Monster.”

  The words hung in the air like a shockwave.

  The entire hall became silent.

  “Let’s believe that I am the person you’ve been hunting,” Aarav continued. “So what happens now? Do you kill me?”

  He glanced briefly at the soldiers surrounding him before returning his gaze to Mehra.

  “Is that why you brought the military here?”

  Mehra prepared to respond, but Aarav raised his voice slightly and continued.

  “You used every resource available to you in order to find me. Intelligence networks. Surveillance systems. Military units. The entire machinery of the state moved just to hunt one man.”

  His tone hardened. “But where were you when justice itself was being murdered by corruption?”

  The question echoed through the hall. “Where were you when criminals walked free because they had money and influence? Where were you when innocent people lost everything because the system refused to protect them?”

  No one spoke. “And now,” Aarav continued quietly, “because I removed a few people who deserved punishment, I have suddenly become the nation’s greatest threat.”

  He laughed softly, though there was no humor in the sound.

  “What about those who destroy lives every single day?”

  Without warning, Aarav tightened his hands and pulled them apart. The metal handcuffs snapped with a sharp crack.

  Gasps erupted across the hall. The soldiers immediately raised their weapons, aiming directly at him. But Aarav did not move. He simply looked at them with calm curiosity.

  “Afraid?” he asked quietly. “Are you afraid of me… or afraid of justice?”

  His eyes began glowing faintly red. “You brought the entire military to stop one man,” Aarav continued, his voice carrying both anger and disappointment. “But you failed to stop the evil that forced someone like me to exist.”

  He turned his gaze back toward Mehra.

  “What a strange paradox this world is.”