Gandhara
Room B-412, Sub-Level 4, Eisenhower Executive Office Building
1650 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, D.C
Adhrivan sat on the metallic chair, his hands resting on the table. Across from him, David Bowman sat in another chair at the far end, smoking his usual black cigarette.
“So, Phase One in India was successful, huh?” he asked.
Adhrivan remained silent for a moment, his face calm and unreadable. “Yes, sir.”
“What was his name?”
“It’s confidential, sir.”
A sarcastic smile appeared on David’s face. “Confidential? For me?”
“You know how our clan operates, sir.”
David exhaled slowly and sighed. “Fine. You pushed our operation forward here, saying we needed to show our dominance to the world. Now, what about India?”
Adhrivan took a deep breath. “What happened in India was only a test, sir. We needed to observe how the people would react. We restricted the incident to Indian media, both mainstream and social. India’s position is not particularly strong right now, but it has powerful allies. We intend to exploit that in the future.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“And their strongest ally is us—the United States of America. In time, India will serve as one of our primary bases in the East, and the major powers there will be within our reach.”
“Good. Increase the scale of our operation here,” David said, taking another drag from his cigarette. “And widen the audience across the world as well. I’ll make sure the media falls in line.”
“Yes, sir.”
David’s eyes narrowed as smoke drifted through the room.
“And Adhrivan… we don’t have much time. Ensure everything is planned down to the last detail.”
Adhrivan gave a silent nod.
Rudhransh looked out of the car window from the back seat, watching the people on the streets of Gandhara City. His eyes moved over the countless apartment buildings and shopping centres rising across the landscape. Towering statues of an old man in a golden robe stood at intervals throughout the city, while the majority of the people below wore pure white cotton clothes.
“Jeron really did good work, huh?” he asked the man seated beside him, dressed in a white cotton shirt and pants.
“Yes, sir. From the district collector to the beggar living on the street—everyone is a worshipper of Jeron,” the man replied.
“Where is the new lab located?”
“It’s on the south side of the city, sir,”
Rudhransh turned toward the window again, “Has Chaithra seen it?”
“Yes, sir. Madam Chaithra came last week and verified everything.”
The SUV slowed to a halt before a massive golden gate lined with huge spikes at the top. A blue board fixed to the endless wall stretching in both directions read: Gate 3. Two guards, dressed in the same white cotton attire, glanced at the vehicle and the driver before pressing a button. The gates slowly opened.
The car entered onto a stone pathway bordered by vast green lawns and elaborate gardens blooming with rare flowers of many varieties. The sight caused the palace of Avantaveera Palace to flash through Rudhransh’s mind.
“We’re here,” the man beside him said as he opened the door.
Rudhransh stepped out and stared at the enormous palace-like structure before him, painted entirely in gold. Thirteen pillars rose from the ground to the roof around the building. Men and women in white clothes moved in and out through the grand entrance. The roof bore elegant Victorian architecture.
“Was the back of the temple reconstructed?” Rudhransh asked.
“Yes, sir. Two months ago.”
A man wearing a black Armani suit and sunglasses staggered out through the entrance. He swayed slightly as he walked toward them.
“Rudhransh, my boy. Long time!” he said, waving.
Rudhransh forced a smile. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I just stayed the day after the auction. We had one last night.”
“Okay.”
“The collection this time was so good that I didn’t want to wait till I reached home to enjoy it,” the man said with a grin.
Rudhransh took a deep breath. “You’re leaving now, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Back to business.”
He pulled out his phone and made a call. A few minutes later, a red Mercedes-Maybach S-Class S680 rolled up beside him. He waved at Rudhransh and opened the rear door. Halfway inside, he stopped and turned back.
“Oh, I forgot. I told Jeron the volume of the consignment will increase from the next shipment. Don’t worry.”
He smiled, then climbed into the back seat of the car, still wobbling slightly.
Rudhransh walked into the building. He entered a vast hall lined with gold-painted walls and intricate stonework. Eight doors branched off into different corridors and chambers.
Jeron stepped into the hall through one of the doors, followed by three young women dressed in white cotton sarees and blouses, each carrying the same identical smile. He moved slowly, burdened by the frailty of his seventy-eight-year-old body.
“Rudhransh, I was on my way to receive you, but another matter needed my attention on the way. I hope your journey was pleasant,” he said cheerfully.
“Yes. How is everything here?”
“All working like a well-oiled machine.”
“Are these your new wives?” Rudhransh asked, glancing at the women behind him.
Jeron gave a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Ask them to leave. You know why I came today, right?”
Jeron’s expression hardened slightly. “Of course.” He turned to the women. “Leave, my children. I will meet you later.”
The women bowed and quietly departed.
Rudhransh turned to the man who had accompanied him. “There is a suit at the back of the car. Bring it downstairs.”
The man nodded and hurried away.
“Let’s go,” Rudhransh said, turning back to Jeron.
Jeron began walking, with Rudhransh following close behind.
“You took down all the cameras?” Rudhransh asked.
“Yes. They did not fit the ‘spiritual peace’ atmosphere I wanted for the followers coming here. Besides, we have surveillance across the city. Every local government authority is in our pocket. Inside the temple, we have around a hundred Pranvars handling security. It won’t be a problem.”
“And you can satisfy your needs without letting us know, huh?” Rudhransh said coldly.
Jeron frowned, then forced an awkward chuckle. “The less you know, the better, isn’t it?”
Rudhransh said nothing.
They stopped before a lift with no lights on its display. Jeron removed a card from his pocket and swiped it across a broken scanner beside the panel. The doors slid open. Inside, a touch display showed only three options: B1, B2, B3.
Jeron pressed B2. The doors closed, and the lift descended.
“Is he prepared?” Rudhransh asked, staring at the doors.
“Of course. He has overworked himself this time since it is live. We also did everything possible to boost his confidence.”
“Good.”
The lift doors opened.
They stepped into an underground chamber of astonishing luxury. A grand high ceiling towered above polished Italian marble floors. Soft ambient light glowed across walnut-paneled walls, textured stone surfaces, and sheets of backlit onyx. Plush designer sofas surrounded a sculpted marble coffee table beneath a massive crystal chandelier. A hidden hundred-inch screen, a private premium bar, and a grand piano completed the room, making the basement feel less like a bunker and more like the private lounge of a billionaire palace.
They crossed the room, and Rudhransh sat on one of the couches.
Jeron walked toward a bedroom door and knocked. “Michael, come out.”
Chuckles of several women could be heard inside.
The door opened.
Zorath, leader of the I.N.A.Z. group, stepped out wearing an expensive white robe.
“Hey, Mr. Jeron, what a surprise!” he said brightly.
“You having fun now, huh?” Jeron asked with a smile.
Zorath grinned playfully, but his eyes shifted past Jeron toward Rudhransh. His expression changed at once.
“Sir! You are here?” he asked, eyes widening.
Rudhransh rose slowly from the couch.
“Is this how you prepare?” he asked in a grim tone.
A shiver ran through Zorath’s body.
“I am sorry, Rudhransh. This is a method of Mr. Michael here. It is how he boosts his confidence. Trust me, he will not make a single mistake,” Jeron said quickly, trying to calm the situation.
Zorath nodded repeatedly in agreement.
Rudhransh stared at him for several long seconds.
“Get ready. As you know, today’s session will be live. And a very important one. After getting dressed, go to the set.”
Zorath silently turned and went into another room.
A moment later, the lift doors opened again. The man who had accompanied Rudhransh stepped out carrying a silver suitcase. Rudhransh walked over and took it from his hands.
“Jeet, clear the women from the room. Take them upstairs.”
Jeet gave a short nod and entered the bedroom.
“Get dressed and wear the black cloth over your heads. Form a single line and exit the room,” he ordered.
Rudhransh took the suitcase and walked into another room.
A few minutes later, Jeet emerged from the bedroom leading six women. Black coverings concealed their heads, and a rope ran through their bound wrists, each tied with a knot. Jeet pulled one end of the rope, and the women followed in a trembling line.
They entered the lift together.
Jeet pressed B1.
The doors closed, and the lift began to rise.
Rudhransh opened the door to a large room occupied by six people in suits—four men and two women. They bowed as he entered.
One of the women sat behind a camera mounted through a circular opening in the thick wall of a massive black container-like chamber with a reinforced door. Two men worked at large monitors displaying lines of code and a world map marked with red dots across several locations. The others moved equipment in and out of the container.
“Is everything ready?” Rudhransh asked the woman operating the camera.
She stopped chewing the gum in her mouth and turned toward him. “Yes. We are connected to all locations, and the signal is fully untraceable now. We have established links with India1 TV and Newsroom Public. We can begin in twenty minutes.”
Rudhransh nodded.
A few seconds later, Zorath entered the room, dressed in a black shirt and black pants, an unlit cigar resting between his lips.
Rudhransh smiled faintly. “Prepared?”
Zorath returned the smile. “Yes. All good.”
“We’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Rudhransh said.
Zorath inhaled deeply and nodded. He walked over and stood beside him.
“I am happy that you came down here for this, sir,” he said warmly.
Rudhransh gave no reply.
“And I wanted to thank you for everything. For bringing me here two years ago from that dreadful past life and giving me a chance. It feels like a dream.”
Still, Rudhransh remained silent.
“Also, will the explosions be added in VFX or using practical—”
“Just shut up and wait for their call,” Rudhransh interrupted sternly.
A visible shiver passed through Zorath’s body, and he fell silent.
After several minutes, the woman at the camera turned toward them. “We’re ready. You can go in, Michael.”
Zorath removed a lighter from his pocket and lit the cigar. His posture changed instantly. He straightened his back, expanded his chest, and strode toward the black chamber. He opened the door and stepped into a small partition room. The door shut behind him automatically.
He moved forward and pressed another button.
The door ahead slid open into a dimly lit room containing only a ragged couch and a small stand with an ashtray—the familiar room from which he had filmed his earlier threats.
He walked to the center, faced the camera, and drew smoke from the cigar.
The woman’s voice echoed through hidden speakers.
“Zorath, we will be live in ten… nine… eight…”
Zorath closed his eyes, took one final deep drag, and exhaled slowly as the countdown ended.
He stared into the lens for several seconds before speaking.
“My dear citizens of this country… I came to know that my attack on the heart of the city of Kochi was defused by an unknown entity. A masked clown dressed in white. You must be relieved now, huh? So am I.”
He walked to the couch and sat near the stand. Flicking ash into the tray, he continued.
“The weapon you saw during that attack—the drone—was the most basic tool in our arsenal. Now I can use far greater weapons and make you understand that resisting me is futile. And to the masked clown, you—”
Outside the chamber, Rudhransh removed his outer clothes, revealing the white suit beneath. He took a semi-spherical device from his pocket and reformed it into a mask.
“You are on in ten seconds, Mr. Rudhransh,” the woman announced.
He put on the mask and entered the partition room. He waited in silence.
A double knock sounded behind him.
Rudhransh pressed the button, and the inner door slid open.
He stepped into the dark room.
At the sight of him, Zorath’s eyes widened in shock.
“Why are you here?” he shouted.
Rudhransh unleashed a massive surge of Urja from his body straight toward him.
“No… this was not—” Zorath began, confusion spreading across his face.
The wave struck him. His body was torn apart instantly.
Rudhransh walked toward the camera. He wiped blood from the lens and stared into it.
“It’s done.”
The camera feed cut immediately.
“We’re good. The connection with the networks has been terminated,” the woman’s voice said through the speaker.
Rudhransh looked at the camera one last time. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Then he expanded his chest and released a violent burst of Urja in every direction from the core of his body.
The chamber ruptured. Equipment shattered. Monitors exploded. The people outside were killed instantly as the blast tore through the room. Walls were splattered with debris and remains.
Rudhransh walked calmly to the exit door. He glanced back once at the destroyed room and the ruined bodies scattered through the wreckage.
He stepped outside.
Jeron approached slowly from the far end of the corridor.
“Is it done?” he asked.
“Yes,” Rudhransh replied.
Jeron and Rudhransh arrived at the rear side of the temple, where Rudhransh had first entered earlier. Rudhransh adjusted the collar of his shirt beneath his jacket.
“Don’t be a stranger. Come here once in a while. You have no idea how close to heaven this place is,” Jeron said with a visible smile.
Rudhransh gave a low grunt. “Don’t forget this is one of our operational bases. Don’t overdo it.”
The SUV he had arrived in rolled to a stop before him. Jeron stood smiling as Rudhransh entered the vehicle without another word.
The doors shut, and the car drove away.
Jeron turned and walked back into the temple.
Rudhransh stared out through the window as the memory of the bodies he had just left behind flashed through his mind. His heart rate began to rise. He started breathing heavily.
He pulled a small bottle from his pocket, shook out a pill, and swallowed it with water from the bottle kept in the door compartment. He took several deep breaths as the SUV neared the edge of the city.
A public bus heading into Gandhara City passed from the opposite direction.
By the window sat Aarav, wearing a ragged T-shirt and worn pants, a black mask covering part of his face. He gazed into the distance in silence.
The bus crossed the SUV. Their eyes never met.
(To be continued)
Karun G Nath 
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