THE FACELESS SOUL

LITTLE GHOST

# THE FACELESS SOUL

## Chapter 7: Little Ghosts

**5 Years Later. Lahore. Alina Villa. Saturday Morning.**

"PAPA! PAPA! DEKHO!"

Ayaan Malik dropped his coffee.

A 5-year-old tornado with black curls and his eyes came flying down the stairs wearing his black mask.

It was way too big. It kept falling over her eyes.

"Papa I’m Faceless!" Amina yelled, running into his legs. "I save the world!"

Ayaan picked her up. Mask and all. "Meri jaan, Faceless retired ho gaya hai."

"Toh phir aap dobara ban jao!" She pushed the mask up. "Bad guys hain!"

Aayat walked in from the kitchen, wiping her hands. "Amina Malik. Mask utaaro abhi."

Amina groaned but took it off. "Mamaaaa. Main hero ban rahi thi."

"You’re already my hero," Aayat said, kissing her forehead. "Now go eat paratha. Before it gets cold."

Ayaan set Amina down and pulled Aayat into a hug. "Good morning, Mrs. Malik."

"Good morning, Mr. Ex-Vigilante." She kissed him. "She found the box again, didn’t she?"

"She’s my daughter." Ayaan shrugged. "Of course she did."

---

**Alina Foundation. 10 AM.**

Ayaan was in a meeting. Amina was in Aayat’s office, "helping" by drawing on Foundation files with crayons.

Aayat’s assistant knocked. "Ma’am, there’s a woman here. No appointment. She says it’s urgent. About the shelters."

Aayat looked up. "Send her in."

The woman was maybe 24. Scared. Holding a little boy, 3 years old.

"My name is Noor," she said. "I... I need help. My husband. He’s part of a group. They’re doing what Victor used to do."

Ayaan, who had just walked in, froze. "What group?"

"I don’t know the name. But they talk about 'the boss'. About getting revenge. About Faceless."

Amina, who was coloring, looked up. "Faceless? Like Papa?"

The room went silent.

Ayaan knelt down to Noor. "Are you safe here?"

Noor nodded, crying. "I ran last night. I have proof. On my phone."

Ayaan looked at Aayat.

This was it. The ghost was back.

---

**That Night. Home. 9 PM.**

Amina was asleep. The mask was on the nightstand.

Ayaan and Aayat were in the office. Laptop open. Noor’s videos.

Men. Masks. A warehouse. And in the corner... a symbol. Victor’s old symbol.

"They’re using his name," Aayat said. "To scare people."

"They’re using my name too," Ayaan said. "Faceless."

Ayaan stood up and walked to the drawer. Opened it.

The mask was there. Dusty.

Aayat came behind him. Put her hands on his shoulders. "What are you thinking?"

"I’m thinking I killed this thing 5 years ago."

"I know."

"But if I don’t do something, more kids will get hurt."

Aayat turned him around. "Then we do something. Together. As the Foundation. As us. Not as a ghost."

Ayaan looked at the mask. Then at Aayat. Then at the baby monitor where Amina was sleeping.

He closed the drawer. "Okay. No mask."

---

**48 Hours Later. Police Operation.**

It was big. Coordinated. Legal.

Foundation + Police + Ayaan’s money.

They raided 3 warehouses. Arrested 14 people.

Noor and her son were safe.

On the news, they called it "The Foundation Strikes Again."

Amina watched it on TV, sitting on Ayaan’s lap. "Papa, woh log pakray gaye?"

"Haan beta." Ayaan hugged her. "Good guys jeet gaye."

"Because of you?"

"Because of all of us. Mama, me, and brave people like Noor aunty."

Amina thought about it. Then climbed off his lap, ran to her room, and came back with the mask.

She held it out to him. "Papa. Yeh ab dustbin mein phenk do."

Ayaan stared at her. Then at Aayat.

He took the mask. Walked to the balcony.

And threw it in the trash bin downstairs.

When he came back, Amina jumped into his arms. "Ab aap sirf mere Papa ho."

Ayaan kissed her head. "Main hamesha se sirf tumhara Papa tha."

---

**Epilogue: One Week Later. Murree.**

Family trip. Just the three of them.

They were on the roof again. Same roof.

Amina between them, eating marshmallows.

"Papa," Amina said. "Story sunao. Faceless wali."

Ayaan sighed. Looked at Aayat.

Aayat nodded. "Tell her."

So Ayaan told her.

Not about the blood.

Not about the fear.

About the man who was lost. And the girl who found him.

About choosing to be better.

When he finished, Amina was quiet.

Then she said, "Papa, I’m glad you stopped being Faceless. I like you better as Papa."

Ayaan’s throat got tight. "I like being Papa better too."

Aayat leaned on his shoulder. "Me too."

Above them, the stars were out.

No ghosts tonight.

No masks.

No running.

Just a man, a woman, and their daughter.

And the promise that the past would stay in the past.

Unless someone tried to hurt their family.

Then?

Then Ayaan Malik would remember how to fight.

But for now...

For now, he was just Dad.

---

### END OF CHAPTER 7