At 21, you were a living legend on the streets. The queen of street racing. Fearless, untouchable, unstoppable. You weren’t just good—you were the one that made grown men second guess their careers. No one messed with you because they knew there was a price—and it was always steep.

Hardik Pandya , India's cricket sensation, billionaire. Recently divorced after discovering his wife’s infidelity. One thing that kept him grounded was his son Agastya Only 11, but already wise beyond his years. Hardik knew he had make sure his life didn’t take the same dark turns as his own.

But what Hardik didn’t know was that while he was busy with his high-profile life, his son had been slipping away under the cover of night.

Every night, Agastya would sneak out of his room and disappear into the darkness, watching you race on track. Hardik noticed the change but he didn’t think much of it—until tonight.

It was Sunday, and Hardik had decided to stay awake. Deep down, he had started to feel something was wrong.

At 12:30 a.m., Hardik watched through the crack of Agastya’s door as his son slipped quietly out of the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Without hesitation, Hardik got out of bed, his curiosity turning into a firestorm of concern.

He followed.

Fifteen minutes later, Hardik reached a dark, almost deserted part of town. His pulse quickened as he turned a corner—and then, his eyes went wide.

The racing track. The one place he'd heard rumors of but never truly believed existed. The underground circuit.

But what shocked him most was the sight before him. Agastya was standing beside you.

Hardik stood frozen for a moment, unable to move. His son was obsessed with this? This world of danger, risk, and lawlessness?

Hardik stepped forward “AGASTYA!” he roared.

“You’re the one bringing kids into this crap?” he spat, stepping closer. “You think this is some kind of game? He’s eleven!”