MUMBAI
Men and women in either their early 30s or late 20s milled about a secure conference room, located at the topmost floor of the glass building that overlooked the financial district.
Voices, murmurs went across the hallways as they kept glancing at the closed door of the conference room the heavy presence of its inhabitants weighing on them.
Beyond the closed wooden doors and inside the wide room was a huge table with an oval space between and revolving chairs around it.
And the characters that were either sitting, standing, or those that were soon expected to be here were an interesting lot to a casual observer.
One side of the table oversaw the city through its glass windows that ran in an L-shape towards the longer side on whose farther end stood an awkwardly placed glass door that when opened would mean a straight tumble directly to the ground beneath.
On the other end was a large sophisticated projector screen, hung against the wall. Standing beside it were two burly guards and in front of them sat a young man in one of many revolving chairs.
Sharp, clean-cut hair, shaved. He felt a bit incomplete with the chair next to him staying empty. As if it should've been occupied by someone of a more greater authority than himself.
He was called Arman and he had a lot to discuss with the group in front of him.
On one side of the long table sat a few suits. Regular folk. Nameless, faceless, easy to forget but indispensable to the work.
On the other side seated were the Realm Awakeners. Their faction leaders more like.
The first was Gazen. A brash, arrogant young man who had a lanky body. He had a pair of untrusting eyes and his attire reeked of narcissistic self-importance. Which was more of a reaction to his self-proclaimed nemesis who sat but a few chairs away from him in the same row.
Gazen led a faction of Awakeners who were termed notoriously as the Dark Faction for their dubious practices and immoral actions.
Most Dark Faction members, or simply known as Dark Awakeners, having criminal inclinations and an anti-establishment stance with regards to all things Realm related.
Unlike the others seated around him, he was not sitting rather lying down low on the chair as if he wanted to go under the large desk. His neck precariously resting against the revolving chair's spine as only his eyes traveled to and fro.
And many were thankful for his current pose as neither did they want to see his face staring them down nor did they appreciate the atrocious combination of attire he was sporting. A light purple shirt barely buttoned up and milky white pants that hurt your eyes under the bright lights of the room.
Next to him was Tara. A boisterous girl with white hair owing to her abilities and the shortest in the table. Also the prettiest in the room.
Her dream was to lead an all-female team of Awakeners someday so she had the fewest of members in her group but was very much forthcoming with regards to cooperation with the Government.
Something that also complimented her side career as a model and a celebrity for female sports.
Her robe was rather symbolic of herself, more recognizable among people for the bright blue flower on its back that represented her ideals.
Inside of it was a vest that left her hands sleeveless and below that was a short skirt that stopped at the thighs meeting just inches above her boots. A tiny sliver of skin left exposed from the gap between them.
Gazen's nemesis sat next to Tara. A stoic and calm personality named Ahlad who led the mixed faction that allowed both Awakeners and inborns inside without discrimination.
Ahlad sat upright almost meditatively in his patience. But then again he wasn't one to openly express himself so it was a tad bit difficult to know what he really thought about things.
He was wearing a white shirt tucked-in to black pants. A suit above it. Very business like. Which he did not particularly enjoy but understood the necessity for it and even appreciated it to an extent.
He personally felt everyone's views on Awakeners these days was already dodgy so he felt it better not to further fuel the flame by behaving like his peers.
He kept glancing at the empty seat beside both himself and Arman, wondering who the two were for and why it was taking so much time for the meeting to begin.
The Northeast Faction hadn't been called in as usual. Which could only mean two things. Either they were too busy with handling the Fronts on their side or they were simply deemed not too important which was a surprise to no one.
"Hey, what's going on? Whom am I waiting for here?" Gazen's impatient voice rung out and everyone in the room turned to Arman. Even the chattering suits.
The man sighed, scratching his tie, "just give it a few more minutes, we'll begin shortly."
Gazen's pupils shifted side to side as if judging the man.
"You do know I never agreed to your pointless briefings then why am I even here?"
Before he could reply the intercom in front of Arman buzzed, "kid, this is not one of those briefings held regularly. Believe me, even I don't want you here. But this is rather important to just keep it to a tight circle."
The voice belonged to Ranit Singh. The current head of the government organization called the 3A which was short for Awakener Affairs Authority.
Officially sanctioned just decades ago, the 3A's shadowy past makes many believe it has existed way longer than the government wants the public to believe.
From recruiting talents at a questionably younger age to conducting activities inside and out of its bounds, with claims of political interference too, it just might be the most influential power in the country and far beyond it's grasp to exert any meaningful control.
And a man leading such an institution was not to be taken lightly and was reflected as such in the change of manner within everybody in the room.
"Arman, I'm running a little late if that isn't obvious already. But you can begin." His voice came up again and Arman heard it intently.
"Understood sir," he exchanged looks with the rest of the people, "but we're also waiting on someone else to come. You did say you wanted all representatives of the big factions here."
"Huh, I wonder who that could be," Gazen chuckled as he turned to Ahlad then at Tara who was squinting her eyes.
"Oh hell, you've called that demon here, haven't you?" She suddenly asked, realizing whom they were waiting on.
The room suddenly felt way more silent than it had to be. Singh's voice wafted in after a brief pause and with a more frustrated tone.
"As much as we find him and his–minions distasteful. He does hail from and come with greater knowledge about the lower realms so yes." The man cleared his throat.
"He has been called too."
"But will he even bother to attend?" Ahlad spoke for the first time, his voice strangley commanding yet calm.
He stood up slowly to speak louder so that the head of 3A could hear him.
"Many of us know how much of an unnatural entity he is and what he represents. Even keeping his disdain for our race aside what would prompt him to listen to your summon?"
The room was quiet for a bit. Gazen felt like he wanted to say something but he didn't entirely disagree on what Ahlad had said.
"Ugh, I'm getting sore by just sitting around," Tara stood up, her long but flexible robe flowing gently as she walked to the table where a few cups and hot flasks were kept.
With her out of the way, Gazen and Ahlad made eye contact.
"How have you been?" Ahlad asked with a smirk.
"Don't talk to me." Gazen muttered and turned away.
A sudden woosh of air rattled the room and all eyes turned to the windows, outside of which a figure hovered in midair, grinning from ear to ear.
He gestured to the weirdly placed glass door which Arman hurriedly opened up, first inundating the room with the sounds of morning traffic and the rushing wind before the figure landed a bit shakily. Only then did Arman close the door, while trying his best to avoid smacking into the figure's wings.
"Brr–the AC's too cold," the newly joined member said as he rubbed his hands and the giant black bat wings behind him folded into themselves as they retreated into his back and he grimaced at the motion.
This was Kala. Neither an Awakener nor an inborn, he instead hailed from the lowest realm. Even introducing himself as the son of death.
Many didn't believe the last part but neither did they completely dismiss it after witnessing some of his feats.
Wearing a bright red half-sleeve shirt open at the collar and hanging loose on his sinewy body, with sandal pants and kolhapuri chappals. He looked the most out of place character in the space. He blew on his sunglasses after bringing them down from his head and wore them.
He pocketed his hands into his pants and stared at the Awakened side of the table.
Gazen seemed to grow a shade white while Tara had sat down in her chair, not wanting to meet Kala's gaze entirely but acknowledging his presence with brief glances.
He finally saw Ahlad, lowering his gaze from the sunglasses he had on and beamed, "fancy seeing you here."
Ahlad felt a bit annoyed at the tone and the fact that he was immediately proven wrong about his arrival.
"What a stupid thing to say. Of course I'm gonna be here. It's more surprising to see you heed someone's call."
Kala sniggered and walked to where Ahlad was, passing him and sitting on the chair next to him.
Both seldom saw eye to eye on stuff but respected the others way of thinking. They had collaborated in the past with middling results but had gathered much from their experiences however little they had been.
But Ahlad was on a roll as he kept nitpicking on the guy. You wouldn't realize it from his tone as Ahlad held himself back well, but he was quite flustered by Kala's presence.
"And talking about fancy, what the hell are you even wearing? Do you even know what's to be worn to a meeting like this?"
Kala waved his hand dismissively and plonked down on the shaky revolving chair, almost falling off before catching himself and grinned.
Still seeing a disgusted look on Ahlad he pulled his chair back and leaned farthest, "oh I don't give a shit, move on already."
"Sir. Kala's here too." Arman spoke into the intercom.
"Alright go ahead."
Arman cleared his throat and sat down, fiddling with the projector remote.
"A few days ago we came across evidence of a realm opening in a small warehouse which had been gutted in a skirmish."
He pressed a button on the remote and turned with the others to see the screen.
A video played from a CCTV footage which showed a large circular contraption whirring to life and blinding light before smoke showed a lone naked figure in the middle of it.
"The place was being used by a group of smugglers who were trafficking Rakshas carcasses. None of them survived, but we believe this lone person escaped." He was about to point but was rudely interrupted.
"Wait what do you mean by realm opening?" Gazen quipped up, his eyes twitching.
A long pause followed before Arman responded a little shakily.
"Exactly what it sounds like. Someone has definitely cracked the way to artificially open a way into the other realms." Arman said it as calmly as possible but hearing those words come from himself felt a bit distasteful.
The pin drop silence that followed was devastating across the room, as the words that preceded it just had that much weight attached to it.