Arc 1; Chapter 8: The Slatemate and The Safe Game Part 4

Rohit’s frustration boiled over as he glared at the president. “Oh, you know why I’m angry, then why the hell did you waste our 9 months? Why did you put us in these training groups? And why the hell did you involve her with Project M?” His voice trembled with raw emotion, the bitterness in his words unmistakable.

The room seemed to grow colder, the tension thickening with every passing second. Rathore’s stoic neutrality did little to ease the palpable unease. The president, however, remained calm, his expression unchanged as he quietly regarded Rohit, fully aware of the underlying conflict.

Rohit’s outburst hung in the air, unanswered, but the silence that followed was deafening. The weight of his words lingered, and for a moment, it felt as if the entire room was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the silence. The stillness was suffocating, adding to the intensity of the standoff.

Finally, Rohit’s voice broke through the heavy silence again, more pointed and full of restrained anger. “You’re right. I admit it,” he said, his gaze fixed on the president. “Both of us—me and her—took your help to stay out of the public eye. We had no choice but to let you shield us from the fallout of that tragedy. We were forced into the shadows, just to avoid the nuisance and the pain that would’ve come with facing the truth of what happened at Nu..shit I don't wanna remind place. .” His words were biting, but his underlying helplessness seeped through.

Rohit’s anger, already simmering beneath the surface, erupted once again. His fist slammed down hard onto the table, making the surface rattle with the force of his frustration. “Why did you involve her in Project M?” he demanded, his voice rising in a sharp, almost desperate tone. The room seemed to grow heavier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on the group, tightening with every word.

Rathore, already on edge from the tension in the room, shot to his feet in a flash. His hand rose, ready to strike, his expression a mixture of rage and disbelief. But before he could act, the president raised a hand, signaling Rathore to stop. His voice was calm, almost eerily so, as he spoke, “It’s her decision.” The president’s words, simple yet decisive, cut through the air, and for a brief moment, the room fell silent.

Rohit, caught off guard by the president’s response, found himself rendered speechless for a split second. He had expected more—an explanation, perhaps even some justification for what was happening. But the president’s response was clear and unwavering. Slowly, Rohit’s anger began to give way to a different emotion: confusion.

Breaking the silence, Rohit’s voice was now tinged with bitterness. “I hate to admit it,” he said, his eyes darkening, “but I’m just as talented as Ayaan. That’s why maybe I was selected for Project M, right?” His gaze flickered toward the president, then to Rathore, before settling back on the table. “But what about her? She didn’t even meet the expectations of this training. So why the hell was she chosen?” Rohit’s face, once filled with fiery anger, now bore a hint of sadness, a vulnerability that he wasn’t used to showing. “Once again,” he admitted, his voice softer but still laced with frustration, “I admit your help. But why are you playing this safe game by selecting her instead of Ayaan?”

The president’s voice remained steady, calm as ever. "Once again, it’s her decision," he replied. "Training is just one aspect of selecting individuals for Project M. There are other factors involved, but I am not at liberty to disclose them at this time. The training you’ve been undergoing is not just to keep you physically ready—it is meant to prepare you mentally as well. If you want to understand why she’s involved with Project M, perhaps you should ask her directly." He glanced at Rohit, his tone becoming more assertive. "And now, Rohit, please leave. I don’t wish to discuss this any further. If you think I’m playing a safe game with you, then you are wrong. Now, leave."

Rohit’s fingers tightened into a fist, frustration and confusion seeping through his clenched jaw. His gaze hardened, but after a few moments of tense silence, he turned sharply and left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, the bodyguard, with his usual impassive expression, locked it once again. The room settled into an almost suffocating quiet, as the weight of the conversation lingered in the air.

After a prolonged silence, Rathore's voice broke the stillness. "Why did you come to his ceremony? Why did you remain silent when Rohit was blaming you? And why, after all of that, did you choose to disqualify Ayaan from Project M at the last minute?" His words were pointed, a mix of confusion and frustration, directed at the president.

The president, however, did not respond immediately. Instead, he moved toward the window, his gaze drifting outside. He watched as Isha and Ayaan walked toward the campsite, with Rohit trailing behind them. The president’s face softened as he gazed at the scene before him, his thoughts far removed from the present.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm, though there was a hint of sorrow in his tone. "What Rohit said is true. I am playing a safe game, but it’s not with Rohit or Ayaan. It’s with fate." His eyes lingered on the moon, a faraway sadness in his expression. "In my life, I’ve made countless mistakes—some intentional, others not—and they have led to my failures. The outbreak of that war, the clash between them, the fall down of the shield, and the tragedy at Numn University... These are the failures that haunt me." The words seemed to weigh heavily on him. "I’m just a normal ordinary human being. I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. And now, I’m doing everything I can to avoid making those mistakes again."

The president paused, his gaze fixed on the moon as he continued, lost in his own thoughts. "To keep my promise, to maintain the stalemate in that contract... I will definitely play a safe game with fate." He took a deep breath, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "For the sake of my mistakes, I will definitely avoid Ayaan in Project M."

Rathore’s eyes fell, his expression unreadable, as he shifted his gaze toward the moon. The president stood in silence for a few moments longer, then added, "Ayaan Ranade, no Ayaan Veerendra… please, don’t involve yourself with Project M. If you do, you will definitely regret it. For now, enjoy the remaining happy days you have." With that, the chapter ended, the weight of the president’s words hanging in the air.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***