Dec 16–Dec 31, 2015
"The Winter Fortress"
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Winter Settles Over the Estate
Snow had begun to fall in earnest by mid-December. The forests surrounding the estate were dusted white, branches heavy with frost. The orchards stood bare, skeletal yet promising, while the mansion's glass walls reflected the pale silver of moonlight.
Inside, warmth thrummed through every corridor — hidden arc-reactor systems keeping the floors comfortable, fireplaces crackling, and subtle climate controls ensuring his parents never felt the sting of Himalayan winter.
For the MC, this month was different. For once, he wasn't consumed entirely by research, blueprints, or secret construction. This was time carved out deliberately for his parents, for the people whose love had anchored him through both his old life and this rebirth.
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Life with Family
Every morning, his father walked the orchard paths, bundled in a shawl, tapping the soil with his stick and muttering about how the mango saplings "wouldn't bear fruit for at least five years." The MC walked beside him, listening with quiet amusement, glad to hear his father complain about something so ordinary.
His mother spent long hours in the kitchen. Though staff were present, she preferred cooking herself, sometimes letting them help, sometimes teaching them her recipes. One evening she pulled the MC aside, whispering like she was revealing a great conspiracy:
> "Your staff cut vegetables too neatly. That's not food, that's a science project. A proper curry needs irregular cuts, otherwise the taste runs away."
The MC laughed so hard he nearly choked, the weight of months of secrets lifting for a moment.
Evenings were spent together in the family lounge. They'd sit by the fireplace, drinking hot chai, while the television played old classics. Sometimes his mother hummed softly; sometimes his father narrated stories from his government service days. And the MC listened — truly listened — storing away each memory like treasure.
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The Humanoid Servants
Yet he knew his parents' comfort couldn't rely only on staff. Discretion was critical. He couldn't risk ordinary workers wandering into restricted areas of the mansion or noticing technologies hidden in plain sight.
And so, in the final weeks of December, he unveiled something extraordinary.
Deep in the underground lab, he constructed humanoid robots designed not as soldiers or CEOs like Arjun Rao, but as household aides. Their synthetic skin mimicked human texture, complete with pores and natural temperature. Micro-actuators recreated subtle muscle twitches and gestures. Artificial breathing patterns, even faint heart-like vibrations, ensured that no one would suspect their true nature.
Each was programmed with personalities — polite, soft-spoken, attentive without being intrusive. He called them Saras (for female attendants) and Dev (for male attendants), a quiet nod to Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom.
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The First Introduction
On December 20th, he brought his parents into the living room where two of the humanoids stood waiting — dressed simply, with warm smiles.
His mother frowned.
> "Beta… you didn't need to hire more staff. We already have plenty—"
The MC shook his head, smiling faintly.
> "They're not exactly staff. They're helpers… made to ensure you never feel alone here."
As she approached, one of the humanoids, a woman in a simple saree, stepped forward.
> "Namaste, Ma'am. My name is Saras. I am here to serve you in every way you require. May I bring you tea?"
The tone, the cadence — it was indistinguishable from human. His mother blinked in shock, then laughed nervously.
> "Arrey, she speaks better Hindi than me!"
His father walked around the humanoid slowly, eyes sharp.
> "She's not human, is she?"
The MC exhaled.
> "No, Papa. But she will care for you as if she were. They're built for you — to serve, to protect, to keep you company."
His father's hand brushed against the robot's arm. The warmth was startlingly real. After a long silence, he looked at his son with a strange mixture of awe and pride.
> "You're building a world we can hardly imagine. Just… promise me, beta, you won't lose yourself in it."
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Side POV – Saras, the Humanoid
Though not alive in the human sense, Saras' programming allowed micro-perceptions. She could process emotional cues, adjust tone, and simulate empathy.
When she carried tea into the living room that evening, she noted how the mother's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the cup. Saras adjusted her own motion — slower, steadier, reassuring.
In her neural log, the entry recorded:
> "Primary caretaker detected mild emotional fragility. Adjusted interaction: gentle."
From the outside, it looked no different than an attentive servant. But the MC, watching from the side, knew this was a revolution in disguise.
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A Winter of Warmth
The following days were filled with small joys. His mother began treating Saras like a daughter, often chatting with her while cooking. His father tested Dev's chess-playing skills in long evening matches, grumbling when the robot "let him win too obviously."
For the MC, these moments were priceless. He would sit quietly, watching his parents laugh, joke, and argue with these creations as if life had simply given them a new extended family.
For once, he didn't feel the burden of secrecy as a curse. Instead, it felt like a gift — to use impossible technology not for power or wealth, but for the simple dignity of his parents' happiness.
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Thoughts of the Future
But solitude returned each night when he stood on the balcony overlooking the valley. Snow fell endlessly, dusting the young orchards, covering the TBM's hidden access tunnels.
His mind turned again to the Tunnel Boring Machine project. Already, the prototype had proven itself. Already, whispers of Bharat InfraWorks had reached Delhi. But he knew its true potential stretched far beyond contracts or profit.
> "This machine will carve India's future," he thought. "No more isolation for the North-East. No more bottlenecks for industry. Roads, rail, metros, underground networks — the nation can leap fifty years in a decade. And I will be the invisible hand behind it."
He could almost see it: networks of gleaming tunnels beneath the Himalayas, freight moving from Assam to Delhi overnight, cities expanding without choking on traffic. India, transformed not by war or colonial imitation, but by infrastructure — the veins of a modern empire.
And from those veins, his next steps would grow: semiconductors, AI, aerospace. Each piece carefully hidden behind layers of companies, figureheads, and synthetic humans like Arjun Rao.
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Closing Scene
On December 31st, just before midnight, his parents sat together in the lounge watching a New Year's program on TV. Saras refilled their tea. Dev stood discreetly by the door. Laughter and warmth filled the air.
The MC slipped away to the balcony once again. Snowflakes landed softly on his hair. The world beyond the valley was in turmoil — economies shifting, politics unstable, foreign powers already curious about the "mystery billionaire."
But here, in this fortress of glass, stone, and love, he felt steady.
He whispered to himself as fireworks crackled faintly in the distance:
> "2015 was the foundation. In 2016, the world will start to see what I've built. And India… India will rise."
And as the clock struck midnight, the mansion lights glowed brighter, as though the house itself was alive, welcoming the year of empires yet to come.