May 26 – June 15, 2015
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The Silence Before Creation
The estate's outer walls had silenced most questions from the villagers. To them, the man on the hill was now simply the recluse with wealth beyond imagination. Yet within the heart of his hidden dimension, the true work began.
The mansion was only one seed. What he was preparing next would rewrite the bones of nations.
In the cool blue glow of Aarya's projection hall, the schematics of the Tunnel Boring Machine (TBM) floated like a suspended constellation. Not the clunky, snail-paced models used by modern infrastructure firms, but something sleeker—its drill head layered with vibranium-infused alloys, edges sharp as diamond dust, supported by a rotating laser array that could melt through basalt as though it were butter.
Rows of stabilizing arms extended like spider legs, each tipped with adaptive pads that could grip, brace, and adjust pressure depending on the geology.
At the center, an arc reactor core, scaled down and disguised within a "thermal generator" casing, pulsed softly in Aarya's simulation.
It wasn't a machine.
It was a creature of steel and fire, designed to chew through the earth and leave behind arteries for a new India.
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MC's POV
He sat cross-legged before the hologram, eyes half-closed, as though meditating. His mind walked the structure in silence, testing joints, measuring torque, calculating coolant flow.
Every bolt, every pressure gauge mattered—because one mistake underground meant collapse, suffocation, death.
> MC (thought): This can't just be a machine. It has to be flawless. Trustworthy. Alive.
He remembered the cracked highways of his previous life, the delays, the abandoned tunnels that wasted billions. If India was to rise, it needed veins, not just lungs. Roads were surface breath; tunnels were circulation.
This TBM would be his sword beneath the soil.
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Aarya's Analysis
From the console, Aarya's soft mechanical voice narrated:
> "Stress analysis complete. Vibranium-alloy headplate sustains 3.2 times greater torsional stress than chromium composites. Estimated boring rate: 10 meters per hour in granite, 40 meters in shale. Optimal temperature regulation requires liquid hydrogen circulation. Cost projection: masked at 2.7% above current government averages, acceptable under audited procurement."
He smiled faintly. Aarya didn't just build. She lied convincingly.
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Side POV – Retired ISRO Engineer
In a modest home in Ahmedabad, a man named Rajendra Nambiar adjusted his glasses over blueprints he had been discreetly couriered.
He was sixty-three, retired after four decades at ISRO, where he had designed cryogenic engine casings. He thought his days of pushing boundaries were over. Yet here, spread across his table, were schematics that seemed to straddle science fiction.
The letter that accompanied them was signed by Arjun Rao, CEO of a newly formed Bharat InfraWorks.
Rajendra frowned. The metallurgy required alone was decades ahead. The cooling systems bore resemblance to spacecraft tech. Even the paper smelled faintly synthetic, as though it hadn't been printed on ordinary presses.
He muttered to himself:
> "Whoever this Rao is… either a genius with infinite resources… or a ghost."
Still, he was hooked. Engineers lived for puzzles, and this was a puzzle from the gods.
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The Hidden Workshop
Back in the dimension, the first prototype was already taking shape.
The chamber was vast, lit by arrays of hovering drones. Metal scaffolding gleamed in sterile light. Half-assembled modules lay arranged like pieces of a titanic puzzle—hydraulic pistons taller than men, armored plating stacked like shields, conduits glowing faintly with stored plasma.
Aarya's humanoid drones moved in silence, welding with precision arcs of white-blue flame.
MC walked between the parts, boots echoing faintly. He reached out, pressing his hand against the curved plating of the main drill head. It was cool, almost humming with potential.
> MC (softly): "You will cut mountains. You will carve destiny."
He almost laughed at himself. Talking to a machine. But wasn't that what gods of old did when they forged weapons? Didn't Vishwakarma whisper to his creations?
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Side POV – US Think Tank
Thousands of miles away, in Washington, a dimly lit office inside the "Geostrategic Infrastructure Desk" received a report.
> Classified Brief – May 30, 2015
"Spike in Indian imports of rare earth alloys traced to shell buyers. Quantities inconsistent with known industries. Possibility of clandestine weapons program cannot be dismissed. Recommend continued monitoring."
The analyst leaned back in her chair. "First China, now India. Everyone's buying up rare earths like candy. Something's coming."
She circled a line in red: Unknown buyer registered as Bharat InfraWorks.
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Back at the Estate
The villagers noticed little—just an occasional flatbed truck at night, carrying "construction supplies." Sometimes the sound of distant machinery echoed faintly from the hills, but nothing concrete enough to confirm suspicions.
Children made up ghost stories. Farmers wondered if it was a new factory. Gossip fed curiosity, but curiosity lacked teeth.
For now.
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MC's Thoughts
Each night, after hours inside the hidden workshop, he returned to the estate's half-built mansion. His parents thought he was simply overseeing contractors, ensuring deadlines were met.
But when he closed his eyes at night, he didn't dream of home.
He dreamed of a steel serpent tearing tunnels through mountains, linking the scattered corners of a fractured subcontinent.
And he knew—by June's end—the serpent would breathe.