Warning: This chapter contains heavy mention of femicide, SA and violence so please skip it if any of these can trigger you.

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"Saira zinda hai!" A man wearing a black kurta came running into the room and screamed. His eyes were bubbling with happiness as he tried to catch his breath, when the village had revolted against them, they had taken refuge from an international terrorist tribe called the MEI.

"Aye Ubaidullah konse nashe karke aaya hai?" Shahveer joked his eyes closed unbothered by the chaos that his brother's words brought into the room. The room had high-end pieces of furniture, and in massive showcases, there were guns- rifles, a bunch of pistols and revolvers, AK-47s and handguns. The funding by MEI provided more than they needed.

"Nahi Bhai, ye baat sach hai. Gaon waaley toh aaj Saira Mahal ko jalakar raakh karne ki baatein kar rahey they", As Ubaidullah settled on one of the sofas, the young boys who had been serving in the room were dismissed, signalling the gravity of the situation.

Shahveer stood up and walked to the window, taking a puff of his cigar as he gazed towards the distant village. His demeanour changed, and his eyes reflected a chilling determination. The news of Saira being alive had reignited the flame of vengeance within him. The village that dared to revolt against them, the once powerful Mir Mehmoud's legacy, would not be reduced to ashes by the villagers so easily. Shahveer knew he had to respond in a way that would leave a lasting impact.

"Lagta hai ab phirse un gaon waalon k dil mein Mir Mehmood ka dehsh peda karna padega, Chacha jaan ki riyasat aise khatam nahi ho sakti. Us Khan aur gaon waalon dono ko jawab dene ka wakt aagya hai," Shahveer declared in a chilling tone, his moustache twisted at the end, his eyes gleaming with darkness as he chuckled.

In his mind, the village and the Khan, presumably their rival, would now face the wrath of their vengeance. It was time for them to remember the fear that Mir Mehmood's name once instilled. The MEI's support had given them the means, and Saira's return had given them the motivation to unleash terror once again.

"Ubaid, Gyass ko bol ab wakt aagya hai. Aaj unko pata chalega apna ghar jaltey huey dekh kar kaisi takleef hoti hai," Shahveer commanded.

As Shahveer and his band of followers marched towards the village, their dark intentions loomed over the peaceful settlement. Their hearts filled with the desire to wreak havoc, they intended to reduce the village to ashes, instilling fear and asserting their dominance.

Shahveer sneered, "This village will learn what happens when they dare to defy us!"

"Aye Ubaidullah, this will be a lesson they won't forget," said one of the gang members.

As they approached the first house, ready to set it ablaze, they were met with unexpected resistance. The door creaked open, and a villager, named Raza, stood there, holding a rifle with steady hands.

Raza warned, "Step back if you know what's good for you! We won't let you destroy our homes!"

The gang members hesitated for a moment, surprised by the display of resistance. They hadn't anticipated the villagers fighting back.

Shahveer scoffed, "You fools think you can stop us? We outnumber you!"

Raza remained resolute, "Maybe, but we won't back down. We're not defenceless anymore."

In that moment of hesitation, Raza fired a warning shot into the air, signalling others to come to the defence of their homes and loved ones. Soon, other villagers emerged from their houses, armed with the guns provided by Abraar. They formed a united front, their determination unwavering.

Another gang member, Malik, shouted, "This is your last chance to surrender peacefully!"

The villagers replied with defiant yells, shouting, "We will never surrender to thugs like you!"

Shots rang out, and a brief but intense exchange of gunfire ensued. Shahveer's gang found themselves outnumbered and outgunned. They had expected little resistance, but the villagers had been empowered by Abraar's support and were willing to protect their homes and their way of life at any cost.

Realizing the precariousness of their situation, Shahveer's gang decided to retreat temporarily. The villagers stood their ground, shouting words of defiance and courage, bolstered by their newfound strength and the knowledge that they were not alone in this fight.

Meanwhile, one of the villagers, Aftab, saw an opportunity to seek additional help. He sprinted towards the village centre, where a large bell stood, traditionally used for important announcements. Aftab grabbed the rope and rang the bell repeatedly, creating a loud and urgent sound that resonated throughout the village.

The sound of the bell caught the attention of the villagers who were not yet aware of the attack, and it also reached the nearest police station, several miles away. Additionally, the message reached Abraar, who had been keeping a close eye on the situation. He immediately mobilized his contacts in the area and prepared to rush to the aid of the villagers.

Back at the scene, Shahveer's gang, frustrated by the unexpected resistance, regrouped on the outskirts of the village. They knew they had to rethink their strategy if they were to succeed in their nefarious plans. The element of surprise was lost, and the villagers were no longer the easy targets they had imagined.

Shahveer gritted his teeth, "This wasn't supposed to happen! We'll show them the consequences of opposing us!"

Unbeknownst to Shahveer, he had underestimated the strength of the villagers' spirit and the extent of Abraar's support. The confrontation was far from over, and the clash between tyranny and resilience was about to reach its peak. The outcome would determine not only the fate of the village but also the balance of power in the region.

The villagers were taken aback by the callousness of Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer. Their laughter echoed through the tense air, further fueling the anger and resentment among the crowd. It was clear that the three men had not learned their lesson and were unrepentant for their actions.

One of the villagers stepped forward, his face etched with anger. "You find this amusing? You brought terror to our homes, and you laugh?"

Ubaidullah sneered, "You think you can stop us? The force behind us is far more powerful than any of you can imagine. You may have guns now, but they have weapons that can destroy entire villages!"

Shahveer added with a wicked grin, "We were just testing your limits, but soon you will realize that resistance is futile. The Mirs will rise again, and you will be crushed under their rule."

The atmosphere turned even more tense, as the villagers' anger transformed into fear. They knew of the MEI, the international terrorist tribe that had sheltered Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer. The MEI was infamous for its brutality and disregard for human life.

A woman from the crowd shouted, "We will not submit to tyranny! We've endured it once, and we won't do it again!"

They had faced oppression before, and they were determined not to let history repeat itself.

Ubaidullah, however, remained defiant. "Your hope is futile. The MEI's influence runs deep, and they will have their way."

In response, Abraar said firmly, "Then let it be a battle they seek. We will not bow to terror, and we will face whatever comes with dignity and bravery. Our unity is our strength!"

As the standoff continued, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. The villager who had rung the bell earlier had managed to reach the nearest police station, and the authorities were on their way.

Suddenly, the three men's confidence wavered. The police might not be enough to take on the MEI, but it signified that the villagers were not alone in their struggle against the looming threat.

Abraar turned to Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer, his voice unwavering, "This is your last chance to leave peacefully. Surrender yourselves to the authorities, and perhaps there can be a chance for redemption."

But the men remained stubborn, and at that moment, they seemed like prisoners of their arrogance and delusions of grandeur.

As the standoff continued, tension hung heavy in the air, and the sound of approaching sirens grew louder. The villagers held their ground, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and hope. Abraar's presence had given them a glimmer of strength, and they were determined to defend their homes and loved ones at any cost.

Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer exchanged glances, their confidence wavering slightly as the realization of potential consequences began to sink in. The MEI's influence may have granted them power, but it had also drawn unwanted attention from the authorities.

"We can't let them take us alive!" Gaisuddin whispered, his voice laced with panic.

Ubaidullah's eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. "There must be another way out of here!"

Shahveer, however, seemed more composed. He took a deep breath and assessed the situation with a cold determination. "No. We will not back down. We cannot let these villagers think they have the upper hand. If we show weakness now, we'll lose everything!"

As the police vehicles approached, the tension reached its peak. The villagers and the three men stood face to face, a tense silence settling over the scene.

Abraar stepped forward, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "This doesn't have to end in bloodshed. Surrender, and let justice take its course. You can still have a chance to atone for your crimes."

Ubaidullah glared at Abraar, his hand twitching toward his hidden pistol, as he did so the bracelet around his wrist carved with the letter 'M' shone brightly, a heirloom of Mirs. But before he could act, the villagers closed ranks, forming a protective barrier around Abraar, making it clear that they wouldn't let any harm come to him.

The police vehicles screeched to a halt, officers pouring out and surrounding the area, their weapons drawn. The standoff had attracted attention, and the authorities were taking no chances.

The officer in charge, a stern-looking man with years of experience etched on his face, stepped forward. "Put down your weapons and surrender peacefully! There's no way out for you now!"

Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer glanced at each other, realizing that their options were limited. Reluctantly, they lowered their weapons, signalling their surrender.

As the police took them into custody, the villagers watched with a mix of relief and trepidation. The immediate threat had been averted, but they knew that the MEI's influence still loomed large. Nevertheless, they felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that they were not alone in their fight against oppression.

In the following days, news of the confrontation spread like wildfire, and the bravery of the villagers resonated with people from all walks of life. The narrative of defiance against tyranny and the courage to stand united touched the hearts of many, both locally and internationally.

The incident also caught the attention of the media and human rights organizations, leading to increased scrutiny of the MEI's activities and their involvement in supporting criminals like Ubaidullah, Gaisuddin, and Shahveer.

As the legal proceedings began, the villagers cooperated fully with the authorities, providing testimony about the atrocities committed by the three men and the MEI. Their determination and cooperation strengthened the case against the criminals, ensuring that they would face justice for their actions.

~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~

"Granny, why are they so evil?" Bushra asked Sultana who was making haldi dudh for them. The old woman was making the paste of turmeric when she stopped and stared at the frightened look on the kid's faces.

"Kids, I have told you the story of Shaitan and hell, didn't I? Shaytan has made a promise to Allah that he will do whatever he can to misguide mankind. He has promised to try and lure mankind away from Allah with material possessions and fame while threatening them with poverty", the women spoke as the kids nodded and Sarah the newly married girl understood that she was trying to take away their minds off the incident.

"Yes, you did! That's why these three men kept on insisting that this village was theirs, it was all because of greed Daadi?" Bushra asked, Sultana nodded and stood up with a tray of haldi dudh. The girls drank it as they asked, "Mukhtar Khan pasand karte they kya Muneeba Shah ko?"

"Shaadi se pehle toh taras khaakar shaadi ki thi... Unki pasand ki shaadi nahi thi...", the woman trailed off and saw the innocent faces of the kids, she couldn't tell them the atrocities committed by Mir Mahmoud.

"Tum sab so jao, raat bohot hogayi hai", she said and stood up, Sarah gave her a lingering glance and as the kids left the young woman entered the room of the old lady, helping her lay on the chaarpayi.

" Tu gayi nahi Sarah?" Sultana asked softly, in response she shook her head, "Kahani suni hai tujhe?"

"Ji Daadi", she asked her eyes filling with interest as Sultana laughed and said, " Phir mere paan ka dabba lakar de"

The girl quickly handed her the box, and the woman started narrating.

Mukhtar Khan was a feudal lord, he had authority over the village, and although powerful he never acted on it. He chose to remain silent- some could call it a sign of weakness while others believe it was his strength.

Muneeba Shah was the sarpanch's daughter, and the sarpanch himself had begged Khan to marry his daughter when the news of the incident broke out.

The incident left people traumatised, disgusted and nauseated to the core. Mirs weren't evil, to begin with, they were just arrogant politicians who lived a luxurious life. But then one day Mir Mahmoud was born, the day he was born wasn't special, yes his parents celebrated but nobody cared. The villagers were unaware on that particular day a devil was born.

Mir Mahmoud was a rebel, that's what villagers called him. He was young, and hot-blooded so people usually dismissed his actions as being a spoilt brat. How wrong were they...

It was raining, a monsoon morning when people usually wanted to stay under the blanket for a little longer. That day a bell rang, the first bell and the second and then there was silence.

There was a parade going on, people were confused, it wasn't a special day. It was a lazy Saturday morning, some people exited the house out of curiosity. And the sight that they were greeted with shocked them, houses were burning, young girls lay half dead on the road and there was an actual parade happening with lots of men, unfamiliar faces. They were laughing and unbothered about the young naked girls laying half dead on the road, as they were the ones who committed such evil.

A young foreign boy took out his camera and started recording as one of the villagers ran to protect the young girl. But he was beaten to death by the mob.

No one was able to save those young innocent girls that day. Houses were burnt, girls were assaulted and lands were snatched away brutally on Mir Mehmoud's orders...

~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~

The news about the recent events had shaken Miraal to her core. Filled with worry, she rushed to the nearest phone booth and dialed Abraar's number with trembling hands. When he answered, his calm voice was a soothing balm to her anxious soul.

"Kon?" he inquired, but hearing his voice, her worries seemed to melt away, and she replied, "Miraal." Nervousness was evident in her voice, but just hearing him on the other end brought a sense of relief.

"Kaisi ho?" he asked, genuinely concerned about her well-being. But Miraal couldn't help but find it slightly humorous that he was asking about her when he was the one who had bravely faced a bunch of terrorists head-on.

"Mai acchi hu... Bakhtu aur gaon waaley sab theek haina?" Her concern for him was palpable, and he assured her with a touch of disappointment in his tone, "Ji sab theek hain.. Kuch logon ko goliyan lagi thi magar ab sab theek hain."

Worried about his safety, she continued, "Ohh.. aur aap kaise hain? Maine pehle bhi ek baar call lagaya tha magar busy dikha raha tha... isliye m ghabra gayi thi."

"Tumhe meri fikar horhi thi," he teased, a smile playing on his face. She quickly replied, "Of course horahi thi, radio par maine suna tha sab meri toh jaan hi..." but before she could finish, she realized what she had unintentionally implied. Her heart sank, fearing that she had crossed a line. She was about to disconnect the call when Abraar surprised her by saying, "Mai aaj tumhare ghar aaonga."

The anticipation of his arrival filled her heart with excitement, and she eagerly waited for him. When a knock sounded on the door, she pretended to be nonchalant, shouting to Zubiya, "Dekho kon aaya hai." Her heart raced as she went to the terrace, not wanting to seem too eager.

Zubiya opened the door and instead of Abraar there stood Rukhsana with two luggage in her hand, Zubiya's hand trembled as she clutched the door not moving away.

" Andar toh aaney de", Rukhsana ordered in an entitled tone, Miraal who saw her from the terrace quickly came to the door and asked with conviction in her voice "Aap yaha kya kar rahi hai?"

Rukhsana pushed Zubiya out of the way and stomped inside. She sat down on the chaarpayi and commented, "Mashallah, Haroon ne ye ghar bhi kaafi accha banwaya tha", as she glanced around.

" Excuse me! Maine pucha aap yaha kya karrhi hai?" Miraal asked raising her voice in anger, Rukhsana's eyes which were sparkling a moment ago, squinted as she gave her a look of disapproval.

"Zoheb k chachu ka ghar hai... ", she replied as if Miraal was unaware. "Toh?" She asked crossing her arms across her chest, "Toh kya, haq hai humara kabhi bhi aaye, kitna bhi din rahey!" Rukhsana exclaimed.

The audacity of this woman appalled her, before she could reply Zubiya intervened, "Aapka nahi, Zoheb ka haq hai. Haroon chacha aapke mehram nahi they!"

Rukhsana gave no response to her instead ordered, "Mere bags lekar aa, bahu h tu meri", this triggered Zubiya.

" Aap issi wakt nikal ye yaha se!" She screamed her voice breaking as she faced the woman who had abused her, used her as a maid and at last forced her to marry her weakling of a son. This woman had destr destroyed her life and now when she had finally attained her peace she came back.

Rukhsana gasped, this was the first time Zubiya had raised her voice. It made her angry as she stood up to slap her, Miraal witnessing this grabbed her stick and striked the hand which was going to land on Zubiya's cheek. Her eyes were boiling with anger, the trauma, the helplessness everything resonated back as she glared at Rukhsana.

"Ye mere Baba ka ghar hai, aapka nahi. Meri khamoshi ko meri kamzori samajhkar aapne bohot badi galti kardi hai! Zubiya aapki naukar nahi hai, mai aapki qaidi nahi aur mere Baba aapke mehram nahi. Ye ghar aapka NAHI hai!" She said in a chilling tone as she backed Rukhsana to the door, the fire in Miraal's eyes was scaring her. She wouldn't hold back herself from hitting her, it warned Rukhsana but she couldn't control her tongue.

"Toh ye ghar tera kahase hai! Tu Haroon-", she was cut off when Miraal pushed her to the door and the stick was still in hand as she told her, "Mere Baba ka naam apni zubaan se na le toh accha hoga". As Miraal lifted the stick to attack her a look of horror crossed her face.

As Miraal raised the stick in the air, her heart pounded in her chest, torn between her anger and the desire to protect her family. She wanted to scare Rukhsana away, to make her pay for all the pain she had caused, but deep down, she knew violence wasn't the answer. Her grip on the stick faltered as she saw a man standing there, confusion evident in his eyes as he looked from Rukhsana to her. In that moment, she felt a pang of guilt and shame, fearing that he might view her as a bully.

"Mai sirf dara rahi thi," she quickly explained, trying to preserve the innocent image she had worked hard to maintain in front of him. She desperately wanted him to see her as the strong and brave person she had imagined he admired.

But Abraar, though he had an inkling of her fiery personality, couldn't help but feel admiration for her in that moment. He had seen her stand up for herself and her family, not backing down in the face of an oppressor. He saw the strength and resilience within her, and it only deepened his respect for her.

He ordered Bakhtu to take Rukhsana away so he could deal with her personally later. As they sat beside each other, Abraar noticed the look on her face, the urge to explain what had happened. He couldn't help but feel grateful for her honesty and the trust she placed in him.

"Miraal... Tumhe sharminda honey ki koi zaroorat nahi. Rukhsana Qureshi jaise log baaton se nahi maante, ye baat mai jaanta hu," he reassured her, his voice filled with understanding and warmth. He wanted her to know that he saw her for who she truly was, and he admired her strength and courage.

Her mind went back to the incident, and she couldn't help but worry about him. Her eyes inspected his face for any sign of injuries, finding none, she sighed in relief. She admired him for his selflessness and dedication to the villagers, and her heart swelled with love for the man she saw before her.

"I read in the news how you had supported the villagers, you are truly a great man Khan... I understand why the villagers love you so much, you never leave their side, you are selfless. And I admire you for that," she confessed, her voice filled with genuine admiration and love.

As she took his hand in hers, her eyes sparkled with affection as she gazed at him. Abraar felt a mix of guilt and turmoil inside. He knew he had deceived her in some ways, presenting himself as the person she thought he was. He wished he could be the man she saw in him, but he felt unworthy of her love and admiration.

When she uttered the words "I love you," his breath caught in his throat, caught in the chaos of his internal struggle. He didn't reply immediately, unsure of how to respond to her heartfelt confession. He knew he couldn't reciprocate her feelings fully, not when he was hiding parts of himself from her.

Abraar's heart ached as he saw the innocence and trust in her eyes, but he couldn't help but wonder how she would react if she knew the truth about him.
He didn't reply, caught in the chaos her words created in his mind. She didn't mind it, as he sat beside her. She instead admired his looks, how can someone as perfect as him exist? She wondered. How did she got so lucky?

As he sat beside her, he saw the innocence in her eyes, admiring his looks and marveling at how perfect he seemed. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that he wasn't the perfect person she believed him to be.

When Abraar was leaving it was dark outside when she stopped him at the door, looking through the drawer she found a bracelet. A bracelet on which the first letter of her name was carved, she had believed it was a gift from her mother. For her protection, a token of love, if the bracelet carried any luck or power to protect than Abraar needed it the most. So at the door she stopped him, and asked him, "Haath aagey karey", she asked and he did so making her smile. He looked adorable even when he didn't talk, she wanted to hug him but she didn't wanted to come off as too clingy.

"Ye aapki hifazat karega humesha", she said Abraar felt his heart ache as he saw the innocence in her eyes. He loved her truly but how would she react when she realised the man she fell in love with wasn't the messiah she thought he was.

Abraar's heart pounded in his chest as he held the bracelet in his hand, his fingers tracing over the intricate carving of the letter "M." He had seen this very bracelet in the terrorist's hand earlier that morning during the confrontation. Confusion and bewilderment washed over him as he tried to comprehend the connection.

"Thank you, Miraal," he said, his voice filled with gratitude, but his mind was now preoccupied with questions. How did Miraal come to possess the same bracelet as one of the terrorists? Was there a deeper connection that he wasn't aware of?

As he left her house, Abraar's thoughts were consumed by this mysterious link between Miraal and the terrorists. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to the story than he knew.

Determined to get answers, Abraar made his way to the police station. He wanted to match the bracelet he found in Miraal's possession with the one confiscated from the terrorist earlier that day. To his shock, the two bracelets were a perfect match.

His mind raced with possibilities, and he was frustrated by the lack of clarity. How did Miraal, an innocent woman, come to have an heirloom that seemed to be connected to the Mirs?

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Before you guys come at me, I had warned you. My stories usually carry snippets of reality, the one you read is currently ongoing.

I had written this chapter a few days ago and was researching to set the tone when I came across the news of the tragedy. Never in a million years, I had imagined this was happening somewhere..., 'Banners reading- The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by bad people but the silence over it by the good people' is going viral and we all know for so long all of us maintained silence because we are in our haven over incidents like this. The silence is often seen as a sign of acceptance, it's sad that this has become so common, that now people are completely unaffected by it.

Chapter 10 Part 3, will be up soon!