"Wait—what?"

  I shot up from the chair. My knees knocked the underside of the table, sending the small ceramic vase wobbling toward the edge. It tipped and hit the floor with a loud, hollow clunk. The ceramic spider-webbed, and dark potting soil began to leak out across the toes of my shoes.

  "You can't be serious?" I asked.

  Mr. Khan didn’t answer immediately. He just raised his eyebrows, his face a mask of official indifference. "What do you mean?"

  "Stop pretending! I don't care what mission you're carrying out, but I am not leaving here without my friends!"

  "See, kiddo," Khan said, his voice dropping into a patronizing low. "I said it earlier—we have no intention of rescuing you or your friends. You were just lucky to survive that accident. By now, I’m sure they’re done for."

  My insides started to boil. The rage was hot and sharp. "So what? What do you think we did to get dragged into your mess? We didn't sign up for any of this shit! And now you’re treating us like objects?"

  Khan’s patience snapped. He stepped closer, his shadow looming. "Oh, shut up, young man! You think you’re the only person who has lost people? I lost my family doing my duty years ago. So have many others in this place!"

  The words left my mouth before I could even taste the regret. "So? It’s none of our business that you were too incompetent to protect your own family. Don't give me a lecture to cover that up."

  A heavy, suffocating silence followed.

  I crossed the line. I knew it the moment the words hit the air. I watched as a thick vein began to throb on the side of Khan’s forehead, his jaw clenching so hard I thought his teeth might crack.

  I thought I was done for. I expected him to haul off and kill me right there. Instead, he released a heavy, jagged sigh. He stepped forward, but instead of a blow, he placed a hand on my shoulder.

  "You are right," he said softly. It felt like he was talking to himself more than me. "It’s not your fault. It isn't anyone’s fault out there. But sometimes, there are no other options left when you have to choose between one and millions. I hope you understand that eventually. I’ll leave the decision to you."

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  He turned and left without another word. I stood there in the quiet of the room, my mind a static-filled mess. It was too unreal, too bizarre. This was supposed to be a vacation. How could it go this wrong?

  The door creaked open again. A cheery, lopsided smile poked through—Divyansh. He sauntered in, nearly tripping over the broken flowerpot I’d knocked over earlier. He slapped me on the back—lighter this time—and grinned.

  "Yo, buddy. Mind a walk? I think I’ve actually got some free time today."

  I nodded. There was nothing else to do in this cage.

  We walked through the corridors in silence. Divyansh didn't push. After a while, he cleared his throat. "Hey, buddy. I didn't really get your intro. Mr. Khan produced some official details, but those are just data points. They aren't you. So... how about some pizza?"

  I gave a reluctant nod. He seemed like he was trying too hard to befriend me, but he didn't seem like a bad guy.

  He led me to a large cafeteria lot. The room was full of men and women chatting happily, their voices echoing off the walls. It felt strange—an odd feeling of contentment in a place like this. Divyansh steered me toward a table at the very end of the middle row and offered me a seat.

  "So," he started, leaning in. "How did you land in this shit? Beside that, what did you say to Mr. Khan that got him so pissed? And your friends—do you have any idea where they are?"

  I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. "Dude! How am I supposed to answer all that at once? Can't you slow down a bit?"

  His expression shifted into a comical 'O' face before he smiled sheepishly. Looking at him now, he seemed around my age, maybe even a little younger.

  I told him the story. I recounted how we’d ended up in this nightmare, though I kept the personal parts to myself and made up a few things to fill the gaps. When I finished, I expected a joke or another barge of questions.

  Instead, Divyansh was holding his temples, his eyes squeezed shut. He looked like he was in deep concentration, his lips moving as he mumbled something to himself. I couldn't understand most of it, but I heard him repeat one word: 'Why?'

  "Hey, Divyansh? You okay?"

  He jolted, snapping back to the present. "Yeah? Oh. Sorry about that. Anyways... what did you say about the man who pointed you in that direction?"

  I felt a flash of frustration. I’d just told him. "I already said it. The old man who showed us the way." I repeated the details again, every bit of the encounter with the man in the dunes.

  Just as I finished, an elderly lady arrived at the table with a tray of fresh stew soup. The smell hit me, and I realized how long it had been since I’d eaten. My stomach felt hollow.

  I waited, trying to be a polite guest, waiting for Divyansh to start eating. But he just sat there, staring into space, lost in whatever thought was consuming him. He finally looked at the stew, and I thought, Finally.

  But Divyansh just stood up.

  "Let's go," he said, gesturing for me to follow. "I think there’s something we need to inform Mr. Khan about."

  He didn't even look at the meal. He just turned and walked away.

  This guy, I thought, staring at the steaming soup. I’m going to kill him one day. I’m definitely going to kill him.