He moves through the dust and neon — turban unwrapped, rifle slung low, a streak of vermillion across his brow. They call him the Ghost of the Ghats. No name. No number. Just a scar and a stare.
The dossier says: “Eliminate with extreme prejudice.”
But how do you kill what was never born? How do you bury what rose from the ashes of empire?
He moves through the dust and neon — turban unwrapped, rifle slung low, a streak of vermillion across his brow. They call him the Ghost of the Ghats. No name. No number. Just a scar and a stare.
The dossier says: “Eliminate with extreme prejudice.”
But how do you kill what was never born? How do you bury what rose from the ashes of empire?