
The night had ended, but the storm hadn’t.
Shivansh sat alone in his study, the early rays of dawn slipping through tall windows, the room silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Papers lay scattered across the desk, but his eyes weren’t on them. They were fixed on the strip of cloth still tied around his hand.—white against red.



![𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 [ ON HOLD ]](https://sk0.blr1.cdn.digitaloceanspaces.com/sites/139130/posts/1019682/IMG_20250515_153243.jpg)

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