I still remember the weight of my rifle, the silence before the blast that took my arm. That was the war. This—this is worse. In Shanti Nagar, the enemy doesn’t wear a uniform. He wears a suit. His name is Taneja. He calls himself a protector. But I’ve seen him break men with a smile.

I came here for peace. Just a quiet life with Seema, my sister. But peace isn’t given. It’s taken. And defended.

Last week, I stopped them from burning Raju’s taxi. Today, they left a message—my name carved into the door of my home. Razor-sharp. Mocking.

Raju’s shaking as he hands me a crumpled note: 'They’re coming tonight. With fire.'

I look at my sister, packing my old army vest. She doesn’t beg me to run. She just says, 'Don’t die like a stranger.'

The sun dips. The colony stirs. And I make my choice.