The air vibrated with a primal energy, a symphony of snarls, grunts, and the sharp reports of Avni’s pistol. Adhiraj’s men, a dozen strong, surged from the thorny thickets, their faces grim, their intent clear. They weren’t after a capture; they were after the box.

Avni, a formidable figure even with her heart pounding, moved with the precision of a trained operative. Her pistol barked again, a bullet whistling past a burly man’s ear, making him flinch back. “Stay back!” she roared, her voice cutting through the din.