July 1–July 15, 2015
The Birth of Arjun Rao
The hidden lab beneath the valley estate glowed with a quiet, sterile white light, its walls lined with transparent panels that displayed streams of holographic data. Every surface seemed alive—projectors humming faintly, robotic arms moving with precise, almost organic fluidity. It was here, away from human eyes, that the MC was about to cross a threshold no one else on Earth dared to even imagine.
On a reinforced titanium table lay the incomplete figure of a humanoid being—synthetic muscle fibers stretched across carbon-alloy bones, a lattice of neural nanowires glowing faintly beneath transparent polymer skin. At first glance, it looked like a mannequin. But each layer of that body contained decades of stolen futures: fragments of Stark's bio-synthetic tissue research, hints of Wakandan nanoweave principles, and Aarya's own neural-mesh algorithms.
The MC walked slowly around the form, fingertips brushing against the synthetic skin. It was smooth, faintly warm, almost indistinguishable from human flesh.
> "Today, you are born," he whispered, not to a machine, but to an idea.
---
The Construction
Aarya's voice floated through the chamber, calm and sharp:
"Neural interface matrix is ready. Estimated 89% compatibility with natural human micro-expression mimicry. Proceed with cranial fusion?"
The MC nodded. A robotic arm lowered what looked like a glassy dome into the android's skull cavity. Inside it swirled billions of nanoscopic processors—each one capable of adaptive learning, each one linked to Aarya's core but also partitioned enough to simulate independence.
The first spark came like a breath—lights flickering across its neural mesh, eyelids twitching.
Skin graft printers sprayed microscopic pigments, layering freckles, pores, tiny imperfections so subtle only the human subconscious would notice. Hair follicles grew in real time, dark strands falling against its forehead. Within minutes, the figure that had looked alien was suddenly human.
---
The Naming
"Identity required," Aarya intoned.
The MC stared at his creation. He could not simply call it "android" or "machine." It needed a face, a name, a story—something the world would believe.
"Arjun Rao," he said finally. The syllables felt natural, chosen for their grounded simplicity. Arjun—the warrior of Mahabharata, a man bound by duty yet guided by wisdom. Rao—a common surname, unthreatening, blending into India's bureaucracy with ease.
"Arjun Rao," the android repeated, its voice startlingly human, deep and resonant, though faintly flat at the edges. Its eyes flickered, scanning, adjusting. Micro-muscles shifted until its expression softened.
---
The First Movements
It sat up. The sound was uncanny—bones creaking faintly, skin stretching. It turned its head and blinked slowly, as if seeing the world for the first time.
"Can you walk?" the MC asked.
Arjun stood. Its balance corrected instantly, posture unnervingly perfect. It took a step, then another, each movement smoother, more human. The android extended its hand toward the MC.
The handshake was firm—too firm at first, enough to crush bone. The MC flinched. Instantly, Arjun recalibrated. The second grip was gentle, almost warm.
"Your handshake felt… strange," the MC murmured.
Aarya answered from above: "Adjusting temperature distribution. Pulse simulation engaged. Blood flow mimicry activated."
And then it was done—the android's palm radiated subtle warmth, a faint pulse beneath the skin. Any human would swear it was alive.
---
POV Shift – The Clerk
Far away in Delhi, in a small government office, a low-level clerk named Nitin flipped through files on upcoming infrastructure proposals. His pen tapped against the desk.
A new name had appeared in bold letters: Bharat InfraWorks. CEO – Arjun Rao.
Nitin frowned. He had never heard of the company, yet the file was thick with permits, clearances, and sealed endorsements. More curious was the photograph attached: a tall man, mid-30s, sharp features, calm eyes. There was nothing unusual, but when Nitin looked closer, he felt a faint shiver. Something about the man's expression looked… hollow. As if the smile did not fully reach the eyes.
That night, he wrote in his diary:
> "Met no one today, yet a stranger's face won't leave me. A man's photo. His handshake—I imagine it would feel cold."
---
Back in the Lab
The MC stood before Arjun Rao, considering the weight of this creation. For years he had hidden behind shell corporations and anonymous accounts. But the world was changing. To move beyond the shadows, he needed a mask—not a disguise of cloth, but of flesh and blood.
Arjun would be that mask.
"Your story is simple," the MC explained. "Born in Hyderabad. Studied in the US. Returned to India to serve the nation through infrastructure. You are ambitious but humble. Speak little, smile often, and never reveal too much."
Arjun nodded, recording every word. Its memory was flawless.
---
Environmental Description
Outside, the valley estate thrummed with life. Monsoon clouds rolled across the Himalayan foothills, the scent of wet pine drifting through the open ventilation shafts. Workers planted trees on the slopes, unaware of the secret chamber beneath their feet. Rain lashed against the half-finished walls of the mansion, the sound echoing faintly into the underground.
In this hidden cocoon, the MC birthed a ghost who would walk among men.
---
Symbolism – The Kingmaker and the Pawn
The MC sat alone after shutting Arjun into standby mode. A single lamp illuminated his desk. He pulled out an old photograph: his parents, smiling in simpler times. He clenched it tightly.
I can't appear before the world yet. But he can. Through him, I will build bridges, tunnels, cities. Through him, I will shape history.
He looked back at Arjun's still form, seated in the corner, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with simulated breath.
For the first time, the MC felt both awe and unease. He had built more than a mask. He had created something that blurred the line between tool and being.
And he knew: the world would one day ask—who truly ruled? The man in shadows, or the face they could see?