It started with a blink.
One moment—a woman in Nairobi was watching a YouTuber livestream touring the Maasai Mara. A tech influencer in Helsinki was unboxing a new augmented reality headset on Twitch. A physics class in Barcelona had just connected their tablet to a virtual black hole simulation. In Jakarta, a hardware engineer was demoing smart-farming AI on a corporate livestream.
Then, simultaneously, across every active screen—phones, TVs, tablets, commercial displays, military monitors, and even the digital screens meant for the advertisements—the video feeds ended.
There was no buffering. No "connection lost." No warning.
The screens went black.
And then…
They showed an image no human had ever seen before.
A cosmic wheel.
Spinning slowly in a void far beyond the stars.
Its rims—concentric golden rings—each inscribed with glowing names, rotating silently. The script varied across regions accompanied by ancient symbols no linguist could name.
Frozen in streets, classrooms, stadiums, and cafes, people stared at their devices like relics from another world.
Then came the Voice.
Not man or woman. Not old or young.
It came from within, refusing to be ignored, not spoken but known.
"To all who walk in the daylight: this is the reckoning of karma long carried amidst your many lives. Every act shapes the scales. Every soul shapes the weave. Every action leaves measure."
At first, no one moved. They weren't sure if this was real or hallucination. But then mobiles buzzed on standby tables, televisions returned to power, security systems malfunctioned. Still, the feed remained active. Global news channels were locked on it. Touchscreens failed across banks, hotel lobbies, train systems.
The roulette continued to spin.
United States – Washington, D.C. – Cyber Threat Command
"What the hell am I looking at?"
Lieutenant Rhodes shoved his mug of coffee aside, eyes fixed on SPARTA-9's feed projection. The entire surveillance dashboard on the upper-right quadrant of the command center had been overridden.
Normally, cybersecurity threats came packaged as ransomware pings or black-hat PLA probes out of China. This wasn't that. This felt… primal.
"Signals interception?" he barked over the headsets. "Is this rogue code—AI? Satellite breach?"
A woman from SIGINT turned, visibly pale. "The anomaly is… not originating from any known node. It's not bouncing off satellites. It's as if all affected devices are acting as receivers for a source that's not… terrestrial."
"What does that wheel even show?"
"One million names," said a data translator. "Names from our languages—and many we can't decode. It's… narrowing."
"Carry out deception protocols. Full asset lockdown until we verify—"
"This is not warfare. This is Karma."
The voice cut across systems again—audible without speakers.
Eyes darted across the room.
"I don't like this," Neely muttered.
Nigeria – Lagos – Outdoor Market
The screen mounted above the garment stand froze mid-advertisement. Then it changed.
A loud crowd trickled into unnerved silence. Street kids paused ongoing soccer matches in alleyways. Security guards lowered brows at monitors showing surreal, cosmic visuals that made no rational sense.
People began pulling out phones—with the same result.
The wheel. The voice. The names.
"Only one shall be chosen from these souls who carry highest karma."
"Karma?" someone whispered.
"What type of magic is this?"
"Ha..haha" said a beggar laughing in Yoruba, his eyes blood red "Finally, The Judgement."
By the time it ended, half the market had gone down on their knees—some stooped in prayer, others in fear.
Germany – Berlin – Universität für Metaphysik Research Division
At the Metaphysics Department, three professors of comparative religion recorded one of the feeds from Munich's public bulletin tower.
"...look at the etching," murmured Professor Hiller, shaking slightly. "I have never seen this script.", which was quite shocking considering he was in this profession for the last 40 years ever since he got rejected from the Art School.
"Is this performance art? High-tech hoax?"
"I'm not sure," said Dr. Lutz. "But the languages aren't random. They keep rotating into what seems like Sanskrit before the center stops."
Within minutes, the feed changed once again.
On every screen: the roulette halted—
—One name remained, rotating slowly in glowing golden ink.
अविजय ठाकुर(Avijya Thakur)
"Is that an Indian name?" one of them asked.
"Yes," said Dr. Lutz, adjusting her glasses. "That's a full Indian name."
"Avijay…" another repeated. "Is that like… 'Unconquered'?"
Egypt – Cairo – Archaeological Archives
Dr. Nour Haddad had been cataloguing spirit tablets when the commotion began. Then she saw it: every device in the lab—her touchscreen chamber log, the 3D renderings on her assistant's screen, even the microwave LED—flashed:
अविजय ठाकुर (Avijya Thakur)
No other identifying information. Just the name, glowing brighter than the rest.
Her lab worker leaned over, whispering, "Is this someone important?"
"I don't think anyone knows who he is yet," Dr. Haddad said. "But the world just learned his name."
GCHQ – Cheltenham, U.K.
Britain's top cybersecurity and intelligence facility went into immediate lockdown when the anomaly was confirmed. No known state actor could pull off a global synchronous override like this—across air-gapped systems, no less.
The conclusion was as simple as it was insane:
This was not man-made.
"The typography confirms the central name is Indian," the linguistics analyst briefed. "Proper Sanskrit transliteration. Translation: 'Invincible Thakur.' It's a common North Indian surname."
"Can't we track the source?"
"No point trying through conventional means," came a voice from behind. "It's not routing through anything man-built."
The room went silent.
CIA HQ – Langley, Virginia – Special Threat Analysis Ops Room
The Director of Emerging Threats slammed his hand on the briefing table.
"This isn't a broadcast," he barked. "The information isn't traveling—it's appearing. That's the distinction. It means something—or someone—accessed millions of systems through non-physical space."
A hush fell.
"And now the world knows one thing very clearly," said his deputy. "Some boy named Avijay Thakur has been... chosen."
"Great. One more question on our hands," the Director said bitterly.
"Chosen by what?"
India – New Delhi – RAW HQ (Research & Analysis Wing)
The stream hadn't reached India in real-time because the subcontinent lay in deep night at the time of the event. By the time morning's sunlight crested the clouds over Delhi, satellite pings and intercepted chatter had already flooded RAW's early-response team.
Messages arrived fast—from the CIA liaison, from MI6 tech support, from the German consulate's global security desk.
"What in God's name is a 'Karma Roulette'?" a senior officer asked aloud.
"They're calling it that online, sir," one junior analyst answered "And the name it landed on is Indian."
"Show it."
The officer keyed in the search.
अविजय ठाकुर
"First name analysis: 'Avijay'—not very common. Likely rural or regional. Last name 'Thakur'—a traditional Kshatriya surname. Distribution most prevalent in Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, parts of Rajasthan, Bihar."
"Run it through the system" another official said.
Soon the screens Infront flickered as the database was scanned at terrifying speeds; The registry checks, Aadhaar-linked name queries and even the Internal police records. The results displayed were in atleast tens of thousands.
"We need more. Is there any location ping? Satellite anomaly? Signal spike?"the official asked in frustration.
"Yes, sir," spoke a technician. "Something strange in Himachal—a small magnetic resonance anomaly recorded around 2:47 a.m. IST., centered in Lahaul or Spiti."
"Isn't that—"
"Snow-clad region. Totally inaccessible at this time of year."
"What about he communication devices" he enquired.
" Well a storm a few days ago destroyed the towers" the analyst answered.
A long pause followed.
"So," the Deputy Director said quietly, "the so called chosen one may be Indian… but unreachable."
Before the major agencies and the government could do anything to control the narrative, the Internet had already done what it does the best: Explode..
"Who is Avijay Thakur?" trended worldwide on X . Reddit's conspiracy forums voted the livestream phenomenon as "proof of simulation."
While the cringy TikTokers posted side-by-side videos of the Roulette across time zones.
But no one knew who he was, the name wasn't linked to any verified identity. On the social media thousands of fake ids were created within a span of few hours
The only clue they had was a name, the golden name on a celestial wheel.
United Nations – Emergency Briefing
An urgent digital-only session was convened with representatives from major world powers.
They didn't argue protocol or treaties.
They argued meaning.
"What does 'karma' mean in this context?" the Japanese delegate asked.
"Is it religious judgment?" asked the Brazilian official. "Divine? Alien?"
"We need to establish if this individual—Thakur—is dangerous."
"He might be a messenger."
"We don't even know if he's still alive!"
"What if this is just an elaborate hacking attempt"
All while this was happening a place existed undisturbed by the happenings of the world....
In the snow-locked heights of northern India, the village of Thangka slept beneath a sky blanketed in silence.
Outside, winds howled softly through narrow passes.
The place existed outside the usual routine of the world, no flickering lights, no sounds except the raging winds. The village had been unreachable for weeks due to blizzards and avalanches. No one there had seen the roulette. No one had heard the voice.
And yet…
Inside one of the wooden homes warmed only by a dwindling hearth, a slender 17-year-old boy lay asleep beneath blankets of yak wool.
His chest rose and fell peacefully. Not a flicker of disturbance marred his brow.
He dreamt of nothing.
Not yet.