Years has passed.

The air inside the underground cell was still the same - thick, stale, and damp, pressing down like a heavy blanket of suffocation.

Noor sat huddled against the cold stone wall, her knees pulled to her chest, her worn shawl wrapped tightly around her tiny body as if the faded piece of cloth could protect her from the world.

Her bare feet pressed against the rough, dirty floor, trembling at even the faintest sound echoing through the corridor.

Her life had always been a cage, but this cage was worse than the basement she once knew.

This cage had no silence. It had screams.

It had sobs.

It had the stench of fear, blood, and despair.

And yet, inside this pit of horror, there was Maira.

The older girl sat beside her, her posture straighter, her gaze sharper, as though she had already faced storms Noor couldn’t yet imagine.

But her voice — her voice was soft, like something Noor had never truly known before.

From that day, Noor clung to Maira with a desperation that went beyond survival. Maira was not just comfort now — she was Noor’s only world, her only hope, her only proof that kindness was not a dream.

But fate was cruel. Fate had never spared Noor.

It was late one night when everything changed. The buyers had come again. Noor had been chosen.

The moment began like all the others.

Noor had been pressed into Maira’s side, her shawl bunched in her fists, as the men walked down the corridor. Their eyes swept over the cells like hunters in a market, stopping at hers. A finger pointed — directly at her.

Her blood froze. Her lungs forgot how to breathe.

The guard’s hand slammed against the bars, rattling them, his lips twisting into a cruel smile. The clang echoed like a death knell. Noor stumbled back, clutching Maira’s arm, her eyes wide, shimmering with silent tears.

“Noor, peeche ho jao”
(Noor, get back)

Maira whispered, trying to shield her.

The traffickers entered, rough hands grabbing her shawl, yanking her to her feet. Her body shook violently, her legs refusing to move as terror consumed her. Her lips parted, a soundless scream caught in her throat. She tried to look at Maira, her eyes wide, pleading, begging.

Maira rose instantly, fury in her gaze.

“Nahi! Isse haath lagane ki himmat mat karna!”
(No! Don’t you dare touch her!)

They ignored her, dragging Noor towards the door.

Noor shrieked without sound, her mouth opening in a strangled gasp as she twisted, writhing, kicking. Her tiny fists beat uselessly against the men as they dragged her forward.

Her shawl slipped from her shoulders.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst — a frantic rhythm that screamed not me, please not me. She clawed at the stone floor, fingers scraping until her nails split, but still she was pulled out, her eyes wild with terror.

Maira’s voice tore through the chaos.

“Usse chhodo! Mujhe le jao!”
(Leave her! Take me!)

The traffickers only laughed, shoving Maira back. Noor’s gaze caught hers — eyes wide, brimming, begging.

Don’t let them. Please.

But no words came. Only tears streamed down her dirt-stained cheeks.

Noor thrashed weakly, shaking her head, tears blinding her sight. Her mind screamed:

No, no, no, not me, not now, please don’t let them—

Then — the world exploded.

A sound Noor had never heard before ripped through the air — BANG. Loud, violent, sharp. The walls shook. Sparks flew. Another BANG, then another, until the air itself seemed to tear apart.

Gunshots shattered the suffocating air. Screams erupted. The ground shook with the thunder of boots. The traffickers cursed, as chaos consumed the base. Rival gangs had attacked. Bullets tore through the walls, ricocheting, sending sparks and dust flying.

Noor screamed silently, her body convulsing in terror. The guards jerked, confused, their grips faltering. A spray of red burst across the wall — one of them collapsed, eyes lifeless. The other stumbled, clutching his chest, before falling limp beside Noor’s feet.

She froze, horrified. Blood pooled near her toes. The metallic stench filled her nose. Her heart felt as if it stopped altogether.

Gunfire thundered again, shouts exploding in the hallway. Boots stomped, metal clashed, screams erupted. The underground base — once only a pit of silence and sobbing — had become a battlefield.

Noor lay frozen, her ears ringing, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Noor!”

Maira’s voice broke through the ringing in her ears. Hands seized her shoulders, yanking her upright.

“Chal! Chal, abhi!”
(Come! Now, come!)

“Chal! Yehi mauka hai!”
(Come on! This is our chance!)

Noor’s legs barely worked, shaking so violently she stumbled, but Maira half-dragged her forward. They tripped over the fallen guard. Her eyes blazed with desperation.

The cell door was wide open, the guard who had dragged Noor now lying dead in a pool of blood, keys dangling from his belt. Maira snatched them instantly. With trembling but swift hands, she began unlocking other cells.

The corridor was chaos — smoke, sparks, shouts, shadows darting. Noor clung to Maira’s hand as if her life depended on it, tears streaming, her breath coming in broken gasps. She couldn’t understand what was happening — only that death was everywhere, closer than ever.

“Sab bhaago!”
(Everybody run)

she shouted at the other girls.

“Abhi! Abhi bhaago!”
(Run! Run now!)

The girls hesitated, too stunned. Then another gunshot cracked, and they bolted, their bare feet slapping against stone.

The corridor filled with panicked footsteps as girls poured out, sobbing, screaming, running blindly through the chaos. Noor stumbled behind Maira, clutching her shawl to her chest, her breath ragged as gunshots rang everywhere.

Cell by cell, Maira opened as many as she could, shoving the terrified girls out into the corridor. Noor stumbled behind her, clutching her shawl, flinching at every gunshot.

Each sound was a dagger in her chest, each scream a blade against her skin. Her small body shook so hard she could barely keep upright.

The group of freed girls surged forward, a fragile stream of desperation. But the base was a labyrinth, and the traffickers had not all fallen. Figures appeared in the smoke, shouting, firing.

But freedom was not merciful.

One by one, girls fell. Bullets found them, cutting their cries short. Some were grabbed by traffickers who still fought to regain control. Blood smeared the floor. Noor’s vision blurred with tears as each scream pierced her heart.

“Noor!”

Maira yanked her aside just as a stray bullet whizzed past, striking the wall where Noor had been standing. Dust and stone rained over her head.

She collapsed, covering her face, her heart thundering like it would rip out of her chest. Her hands shook so badly she could barely push herself up.

Around them, horror unfolded. One girl fell, clutching her chest, blood seeping between her fingers as she crumpled.

Another screamed, dragged back by a guard, her fingernails scratching the floor as she was pulled away.

Noor’s eyes widened, the sight searing into her soul.

'They’re dying, they’re dying, we’ll all die here—'

Maira pulled her up, almost lifting her with sheer force.

“Dekh mat, Noor! Aage dekh, bhaag!”
(Don’t look, Noor! Look ahead, run!)

Still, Maira dragged her forward, refusing to let go of her hand.

“Bas thoda aur, Noor! Bas thoda aur!”
(Just a little more, Noor! Just a little more!)

But Noor’s legs betrayed her. Every step was a stumble, every breath a sob. She clung to Maira’s hand, her knuckles white, refusing to let go. She couldn’t — if she did, she’d disappear into the same darkness as the others.

Finally, light.

They reached the crumbling staircase leading to the exit. Faint moonlight filtered from above. Hope. It was right there.

Faint, dim, but real — the exit. A broken staircase, half-collapsed, leading upward where air smelled faintly of freedom.

The group surged toward it, desperation carrying their broken bodies forward. Noor’s eyes widened, hope piercing through the fog of terror.

They were almost there.

But hope was cruel.

The traffickers, furious and wild, stormed the corridor behind them. Their shouts echoed, their boots thundered. They caught up to the slower girls first.

Traffickers closed in from behind, their shouts echoing. The remaining girls were caught, dragged back, screaming as hands clamped over their mouths.

Noor stumbled at the sight, her knees buckling, terror flooding her veins like poison.

Her eyes burned as she saw them pulled back, screaming, their hands reaching desperately toward freedom.

Then Maira stopped. Right before the staircase. She turned, shoving Noor hard toward the light.

“Bhag, Noor! Bhag!”
(Run, Noor! Run!)

But Noor froze. Her feet rooted to the ground, her body trembling violently. Tears blurred her vision.

She couldn’t.

She couldn’t leave them.

She couldn’t leave Maira.

Noor shook her head violently, tears cascading. She clutched Maira’s hand desperately, refusing to let go. Her silent sobs screamed louder than words ever could.

Maira’s face was streaked with sweat, dirt, and tears. Her chest heaved. Behind her, the traffickers closed in. She knew.

There wasn’t time.

Maira’s own tears welled, but she forced a fierce smile, cupping Noor’s face with both trembling hands.

“Aapko jeena hoga, Noor. Samjhi?”
(You must live, Noor. Do you understand?)

she whispered, voice cracking.

Noor shook her head, sobbing, clinging harder. Her lips formed a broken please that never made a sound.

She cupped Noor’s face, pressing her forehead to hers, even as her hands trembled.

“Meri Noor… meri pyaari Noor… aap bhaag jao. Aapko jeena hoga.”
(My Noor… my precious Noor… you must run. You must live.)

Noor shook her head again, harder, her tears dripping onto Maira’s hands. Her body convulsed with sobs, her throat tightening until she couldn’t breathe.

She clung to Maira desperately, as if letting go meant death.

But Maira pulled her arms away, her strength shocking in that moment. She pushed Noor towards the stairs, her voice breaking but commanding:

“JAO! Abhi jao! Hum rok lenge unhe!”
(Go! Go now! I will stop them!)

Noor’s world shattered. Her feet refused, her body shook violently, but Maira’s final push sent her stumbling up the steps.

Noor stumbled forward, choking on her sobs, her vision spinning.

She turned, her eyes wild with terror, with heartbreak, with refusal.

Maira stood there, arms spread wide, facing the traffickers who charged. Her body was small against their weapons, but her courage filled the corridor.

Noor’s last sight before the moonlight blinded her was Maira lunging forward, grabbing a fallen rod, swinging it at the men with everything she had.

Her silent scream tore through her chest, ripping her apart, but no sound came. She ran, tears blinding her, shawl flying behind her like broken wings. She ran until the screams and gunshots blurred into the night.

And with every step, her heart shattered more.

Because Noor knew — she had left behind her only world.

And Noor ran, tears blinding her, her heart shattering with every step, the echo of Maira’s voice haunting her ears.

She did not stop.

Her legs were thin, fragile things — trembling reeds that had never known freedom, only the stone-cold floor of her cell and the damp soil of the basement she once called “home.”

But that night, those legs carried her faster than she believed possible.

Her bare feet slammed against the uneven earth, every step slicing the soft skin of her soles.

Sharp stones, brittle twigs, and hidden thorns tore into her velvety flesh, leaving trails of pain. But she did not feel them fully — not in the way she should have.

Pain was drowned out by terror, by the monstrous pounding of her heart that screamed louder than any wound.

She was running not toward anything — no, she had no such dream, no such destination.

She was running from-

From the smoke.

From the shouts.

From the eyes of men who had reached for her like claws.

From the blood on the floor, the screams in the corridors, the sound of Maira’s voice shoving her toward life while she stayed behind in the dark.

Her lungs burned. Her throat ached. Her chest rose and fell in jagged bursts, like she was swallowing knives with every breath.

Yet still — she ran.

The night wrapped around her like a cloak of shadows, both friend and enemy.

The moon loomed above, silver and round, pouring its light across the barren fields that stretched endlessly ahead.

Noor had never seen such a sky, wide and unbroken, without walls or ceilings to cage it. It frightened her — a hollow, crushing vastness that made her small, smaller than she had ever felt.

Her eyes flicked upward once, and she nearly stumbled. The stars burned above like thousands of watchful eyes, cold and distant.

They terrified her.

Were they alive? Were they watching her? Would they tell the men where she had gone?

Her chest tightened with panic at the thought, and she jerked her gaze back to the ground, heart hammering.

She could not look up again.

Her shawl flapped wildly behind her, half slipping from her shoulders. She clutched it tightly, fingers twisting into the fabric until her knuckles whitened.

It was the only familiar thing she had left, the only fragment of comfort in a world that suddenly felt too enormous, too sharp, too loud.

Her breaths came in short, sharp bursts.

She thought she could hear them behind her — the men, their boots pounding the earth, their shouts breaking the night.

Every rustle of grass, every whisper of the wind felt like footsteps.

She imagined hands stretching out of the darkness, ready to seize her, to drag her back to the cage, to punish her for running, for daring.

Her chest squeezed. She choked on silent sobs, eyes wide and streaming. Terror consumed her like fire, seeping into every corner of her being.

Run. Run. Don’t stop.

That was the only thought that repeated in her mind, over and over again. If she stopped, they would catch her. If she stumbled, she would be dragged away. If she slowed, she would die.

So she ran.

The barren land stretched endlessly. Dry grass cracked under her steps, scattering in the night wind.

Her feet left faint trails of blood, but she did not see, did not notice. The moon followed her relentlessly, its light illuminating her like a spotlight.

She hated it.

She wished for darkness, for invisibility, for something to swallow her whole so they could not find her.

The silence of the open fields was unlike the silence of the cell. In the cell, silence was heavy, suffocating, broken only by the distant cries of others.

Out here, silence was vast and echoing, stretching endlessly.

Every sound — her breath, her heartbeat, the scrape of her feet — felt magnified a thousand times.

Her body screamed for rest. Her lungs begged her to stop, her legs trembled with exhaustion.

But the fear was louder than her pain.

The unknown world consumed her mind — she didn’t understand where she was, didn’t know what waited in the shadows, didn’t know if there even was a “safe place” to reach.

She just knew she couldn’t go back.

Her eyes stung from tears and wind, but she blinked rapidly, refusing to stop. The edges of her vision blurred.

The ground beneath her shifted unevenly, and she stumbled hard, collapsing to her knees. The impact jolted through her bones, scraping her skin raw.

For a moment, she froze, panting, her chest rising and falling violently. She dared not look back. She was too afraid of what she would see.

Her trembling hands pressed against the earth. Her fingers dug into the dirt, desperate for stability.

Then, with a broken sob that made no sound, she pushed herself up again.

She staggered forward, slower now, her steps unsteady, but still she moved.

Every muscle screamed at her, her body quaking with exhaustion, but terror drove her forward. Her shawl clung to her like a lifeline, her tiny fists knotting into it as if it alone could save her.

The night was merciless. The air was cold, seeping into her bones. The moonlight revealed the barren emptiness around her — no trees, no shelter, nothing but fields stretching into the distance.

She was small, fragile, utterly alone in a world that felt too large.

Her mind raced with panicked questions.

Where am I? Where do I go? What if they find me? What if the world outside is worse? What if Maira…

Her chest tightened at the thought. Maira. The last sight of her standing in the shadows, pipe clutched in hand, eyes blazing.

Noor’s tears came faster, hot and unstoppable. Her lips trembled, forming her name in silence, though her voice could not follow.

She clutched the shawl tighter, pressing it against her face as if it still carried Maira’s warmth.

Her small body shook with grief and fear, each sob silent but violent, wracking her chest. She wanted to turn back, to find her, to refuse to leave her behind.

But her legs only carried her forward, deeper into the unknown, as if Maira’s final push still guided her.

She was terrified of the night, terrified of the sky, terrified of every whisper of grass in the wind. But above all, she was terrified of stopping.

So Noor ran — ran and ran, until she no longer knew where she was, until the barren fields stretched endlessly in every direction, until the moon seemed to follow her like an eye that would never close.

Her legs were no longer hers. They dragged like broken branches tied to her hips, each step an act of desperation rather than strength.

Noor’s breaths came in strangled gasps, sharp and uneven, scraping her throat raw. Her chest felt like it might split apart, her ribs rattling with the force of her heart’s panicked pounding.

The earth beneath her was cruel. Jagged stones bit into the soft soles of her bare feet, and every scrape left tiny streaks of blood.

Her toes curled instinctively, trying to protect themselves, but the ground was merciless.

She stumbled again and again, catching herself on shaky knees, each time convinced the shadow behind her would seize her in that instant.

Still, she pressed forward, clutching her shawl as though it were Maira’s hand.

The moon continued its silent pursuit above, pouring silver light across the open land. Its brightness frightened her.

The moon was too clear, too exposing. In her mind, it was a giant eye staring down at her, watching her every move, ready to call out to the men who would drag her back.

She wanted to hide. She wanted walls. She wanted the suffocating safety of shadows. But here, there was no hiding place, no corner small enough for her fragile body to curl into.

Noor’s eyes burned with tears, her vision blurring. She blinked rapidly, but the blur only worsened, her lashes heavy with dampness. She shook her head, strands of tangled hair slapping against her cheeks.

Her lips parted in a silent sob, her chest jerking violently, but no sound escaped her throat.

Her foot caught something.

She had no time to realize what it was. Her toes struck against the hard, weathered wood of a fallen tree trunk, its rough bark catching her delicate skin. The impact jolted her forward violently.

Noor’s frail body pitched down with no control.

Her arms flailed helplessly, thin wrists twisting, fingers clutching only air. Her shawl slipped free from her shoulder as she collapsed forward, the world tilting at a dizzying angle.

The ground met her with brutal force. Her knees slammed first, scraping raw against the dirt, then her shoulder struck, pain flashing white-hot through her fragile frame. Her cheek pressed against the rough earth, scraping skin.

But the fall did not end there.

The land sloped downward — steep, unyielding. Noor’s body rolled, helpless against gravity. Dirt and stones clung to her, scratching, tearing, leaving raw marks on her skin.

Each roll stole her breath, each impact rattled her bones, her small frame twisting and jolting like a ragdoll abandoned to fate.

Her shawl tangled around her arms as she rolled, the only thing that seemed to cling to her, wrapping around her like a frail protector.

The slope gave way.

Noor had no time to scream, no time to think. She tumbled over the edge of a cliff, the open air swallowing her.

For a fleeting, weightless moment, she felt nothing. Only the rush of wind, cold and merciless, slapping against her skin. Her eyes widened in terror, pupils shrinking, but her mouth remained open in a voiceless scream.

The night devoured her fall.

But fate, cruel and fickle, had not abandoned her completely.

Below the cliff, a road stretched along the mountainside, and along it trundled an old, rumbling truck. Its headlights carved pale paths into the darkness, its wheels groaning under the weight of its load.

In its open back, mountains of white cotton swayed gently with the bumps of the road, soft as clouds yet firm enough to bear weight.

Noor fell into it.

Her body struck the cotton with a muffled thud, sinking into its soft embrace. The impact should have broken her — but instead, the cotton cradled her fall, absorbing her fragile frame.

She did not move. Her head lolled to one side, her tangled hair spilling across her cheek, her lips parted as though in half-breath. Her shawl clung to her loosely, one corner snagged in the cotton fibers.

Her body bore the marks of her desperate flight: scratches streaked across her arms, bruises darkened her knees and shoulders, dirt clung to her skin, and thin lines of blood trickled from her scraped palms.

Her chest rose and fell shallowly, but her consciousness slipped away, the world fading into a blur of shadows and pain.

Unaware of its new passenger, the truck continued forward.

The driver sat slumped in his seat, humming faintly to himself, eyes heavy with fatigue. His hands gripped the wheel lazily, mind dulled by routine.

To him, this was just another night of labor, just another delivery. He never once glanced into the rear, never once imagined that a broken, trembling girl had fallen silently into his cargo.

The truck rattled down the road, its tires crunching gravel, carrying Noor deeper into the unknown.

Above, the moon followed still, spilling light over the cotton that concealed her fragile body. The wind whispered across the fields, brushing against the edges of her shawl as if trying to wake her.

But Noor slept — unconscious, adrift in the fragile space between survival and loss. Her small hands twitched faintly, curling into fists as though even in her dreams, she still fought to hold onto life.

The world moved forward without her, vast and unknowing, while she lay hidden in the cotton’s embrace, a fragile shadow carried away into another fate she could neither predict nor escape.

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