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Nighttime. Mumbai. Somewhere within the cold, bureaucratic walls of the CBI Headquarters…
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A dim cubicle glowed under the pale light of a dying ceiling lamp. Amidst scattered case files, broken pens, and empty coffee cups, sat Yuvaan—unmoving, sleepless, haunted. His eyes weren’t red from exhaustion; they were burning with something deeper… obsession.
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On his desk lay a half-burnt file—its cover nearly illegible, but the faded title struck like lightning:
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“PROJECT TRIDENT – Level 9: RESTRICTED.”
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The file wasn’t meant to be there. A rookie officer had accidentally dropped it on his desk, not knowing it belonged in the archive vault. But fate had other plans.
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As Yuvaan’s fingers grazed the charred cover, a sudden chill ran down his spine.
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“Trident… where have I heard that before?”
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He opened the file.
First Page:
Operative: Vaidya
Status: Transferred from RAW – Declassified.
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Yuvaan’s breath hitched.
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FLASHBACK – 7 Years Ago, RAW Training Facility – Somewhere in the snowy silence of Himachal
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An elite camp hidden under snow. Inside a tent, warmth flickered from a projector as Mr. Vaidya, clad in a black coat, addressed a group of cadets.
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> "Memory is a weapon," he said coldly. "And wielding it? That takes something… inhuman. There was only one boy who could retain 300 unlinked symbols without error."
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All eyes turned toward a younger, sharper Yuvaan.
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Back to Present
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The memory sliced through him.
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“They lied to me… Vaidya wasn’t just a psychiatrist. He was RAW’s top-level memory architect. But why hide it from me?”
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His eyes scanned the next page. A blurred photograph… the silhouette of a woman.
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Caption:
Subject: Kiara Fernandes
Phase 2 Test: FAILED
Status: MISSING
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The file slipped from his trembling hands.
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“Kiara… she was a test subject?”
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The girl he was hunting… was part of Trident?
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CBI Cafeteria – 2:30 AM
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He sat alone with a bitter cup of coffee. Nearby, two senior officers murmured in hushed tones.
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> “That new guy opened the TRIDENT file?”
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“The one Dr. Vaidya had sealed himself?”
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Yuvaan’s ears caught every word. But before he could process it, one name echoed inside his head like a thunderclap—
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“Vikrant.”
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He stood up, left the cup untouched, and vanished into the misty streets of Mumbai.
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Cut To: A Forgotten Alley in Ghatkopar
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A black cab screeched to a halt in front of a decrepit basement. Flickering tube lights. Cigarette smoke coiling through the stale air. Old monitors buzzing with static. The past lived here… unwanted, unspoken.
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Inside, a man sat with his back turned.
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> “Still alive, are you?”
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He turned.
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Vikrant.
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There was fear in his eyes. But respect too.
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> “Yuvaan bhai… they said you were dead.”
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Yuvaan walked up, placed his palm firmly on the table.
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> “I’m looking for a girl. I don’t know her name. Only a butterfly tattoo on her wrist.”
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Vikrant didn’t ask questions. He typed.
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The screen flickered, then stopped.
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Name: Kiara Fernandes
Status: MISSING since 2017.
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Yuvaan’s expression froze.
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> “She wasn’t just made to disappear, Vikrant… someone erased her existence. Like she was never real to begin with.”
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Teaser End Scene
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Back at the CBI.
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Late night. Everyone gone.
Yuvaan flips through another file. Suddenly, a holographic projector sparks to life.
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Mr. Vaidya’s digital visage appears.
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> “If you're seeing this, Yuvaan… it means you're either hiding… or you’re too close to the truth to survive much longer.
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In TRIDENT, we don’t just play with minds…
We sacrifice memories.”
Yuvaan doesn’t flinch.
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Then I’ll remember for them all.”
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FADE OUT.
The bloodstains are old. But the wings still carry their story.
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