Sept 6 – Sept 20, 2015
The late summer air in Delhi carried a mix of monsoon dampness and dust. The city was alive with its usual chaos—rickshaws honking, office goers rushing through Connaught Place, the smell of roasted corn on street corners—but at the heart of the capital, in the meticulously guarded convention center near India Gate, an entirely different atmosphere reigned.
This was the National Infrastructure Summit 2015, a gathering that drew ministers, bureaucrats, industrialists, and foreign observers. Deals worth billions would be seeded here, but beyond the visible glamour, a new shadow had quietly entered the hall.
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The Entrance of Arjun Rao
Arjun Rao, the carefully crafted humanoid android, stepped out of a sleek black sedan. His appearance was designed to be forgettable yet commanding: salt-and-pepper hair, clean-shaven jawline, dark tailored suit. Cameras flicked toward him instinctively though no one could place his name in memory yet.
Badge read: CEO – Bharat InfraWorks Pvt. Ltd.
To the world, he was a rising industrialist. To those with sharper eyes, there was something subtly uncanny about him—his posture too precise, his skin tone flawless under the bright lights. Yet his handshakes were firm, his eyes attentive, and his voice carried a deep baritone confidence.
Behind the scenes, hidden in the crowd under a different face generated by Aarya's disguise system, the MC himself observed. He had no intention of revealing his true identity—not yet. Delhi was a battlefield of whispers; here, invisibility was his greatest weapon.
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Inside the Summit
The main hall buzzed with anticipation. Models of highways, smart cities, and renewable energy parks filled booths around the perimeter. Politicians gave speeches about India's "golden decade of development." But when Bharat InfraWorks' slot came up, silence fell.
Arjun Rao walked up to the podium, gestures smooth and timed.
> "Ladies and gentlemen," his voice resonated, "India's future lies not in incremental steps, but in leaps that redefine geography itself. Imagine travel times between our eastern and western frontiers cut in half. Imagine our mountains no longer barriers, but bridges of opportunity. Bharat InfraWorks is building the machines that will make this possible."
Slides flickered on the massive screen—digital renderings of the Tunnel Boring Machine (TBM), elegant arcs of tunnels beneath Himalayan ridges, eco-friendly transit hubs integrated into forests. The hall leaned forward, captivated.
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MC's Perspective
From the shadows, MC felt his heartbeat quicken. It was surreal watching his creation, his voice filtered through Rao, standing on that stage. No one clapped immediately—it wasn't the usual corporate boasting. This was something larger, almost mythical.
He knew the risks. Too much exposure now, and foreign powers would probe. Too little, and the government might not take the bait.
The key was balance: just enough to spark curiosity, not fear.
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POV: The Clerk
In a side office, a low-level clerk named Raghav Menon jotted notes for his departmental report. He was nobody of importance, yet something about Rao unsettled him.
> "His handshake was… cold," Raghav scribbled in his leather diary. "Like shaking polished marble. And his smile—perfect, but too perfect. Still, his ideas… they made my skin prickle. Could it be possible to chew through mountains like paper?"
He shook his head and returned to his files, unaware that decades later, historians would find his diary and note the first impressions of Bharat InfraWorks' mysterious CEO.
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Behind Closed Doors
After the public address, Rao was ushered into a private lounge with senior bureaucrats from the Ministry of Road Transport. Conversations turned hushed, eyes sharp.
One asked bluntly, "Mr. Rao, how do you plan to execute such ambitious tunneling projects when even Europe struggles with costs and delays?"
Arjun smiled, measured, perfectly human.
> "Gentlemen, cost overruns are a failure of imagination. Technology is the key. We have developed machines faster, cleaner, and more reliable than anything on the global market. Give us a chance to prove it, and the results will speak for themselves."
The bureaucrats exchanged glances. Skepticism lingered, but curiosity had taken root.
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MC in the Crowd
MC slipped out of the conference quietly, blending into the press and assistants. As he emerged into the Delhi night, the India Gate lit up against a haze of pollution and yellow floodlights. He could feel the city breathing around him—a billion hopes, frustrations, ambitions.
> "The seed has been planted," he thought. "Now the soil of politics will decide if it takes root."
The first doors had opened. Behind them lay a path leading to Modi, to national contracts, to a stage where the entire world would finally notice.
But for now, he vanished into the anonymity of the crowd, a shadow content to let his puppet shine.