The blueprint was set, and the machine of Harsh's empire began to move with a new, purposeful intensity. The three prongs of his strategy—Bharat's R&D, Patel's logistics, and the Aethelred Trust's global scouts—started to operate in a powerful, coordinated rhythm.
At Bharat Labs, the "Sanskrit" project was initiated under a shroud of intense secrecy. Deepak, armed with a blank check and a mandate to hire the best, began poaching top engineers from established IT firms and recruiting brilliant doctorates from around the world. The lab transformed into a fortress of innovation, its work protected by a wall of patents and non-disclosure agreements. The goal of a 32-bit Indian microprocessor was no longer a fantasy; it was a mission.
Simultaneously, Patel Holdings, under Vikram's driven leadership, began its Asian expansion. The first office opened in Singapore, strategically chosen for its world-class port and status as a global hub. The initial goal was modest: to establish a beachhead for distributing "Bharat" televisions and "Sargam" players into the lucrative Southeast Asian market. But the long-term plan, known only to Harsh and Vikram, was far more ambitious—to weave Patel Holdings into the very fabric of Asian trade.
It was the Aethelred Trust, however, that delivered the first tangible tremor of the coming revolution. Rakesh, now operating with the confidence of a seasoned venture capitalist, had identified a small, struggling company in California's Silicon Valley. The company was called "NetScape Communications." It was developing a piece of software called a "web browser."
The due diligence report from HTI's Priya Kapoor was cautiously optimistic, focusing on the technical potential of "hypertext transfer protocol" and the nascent "World Wide Web." But for Harsh, reading the report was like staring into the sun. This wasn't just an investment; this was the key to the kingdom he had seen in his past life.
"The entire report is correct, but it misses the point entirely," Harsh told Rakesh, his voice vibrating with a suppressed energy he hadn't felt in months. "This 'browser' isn't a piece of software. It is a new universe. It is the doorway."
He authorized the Aethelred Trust to lead a seed funding round, injecting $500,000 into the fledgling company for a significant equity stake. For the founders of NetScape, it was a lifeline from an enigmatic, distant benefactor. For Harsh, it was the single most important strategic investment he had ever made.
The tremor caused by this move was not financial—it was intellectual. The news, circulating in the tiny, insular world of Silicon Valley venture capital, reached the ears of a sharp-eyed Indian-American analyst named Neil Desai. Intrigued by the involvement of a Cayman-based trust with ties to an Indian industrial conglomerate, he dug deeper. He found the public success of Bharat Electronics, the aggressive expansion of Patel Holdings, and the quiet, prescient bets of the Aethelred Trust.
He wrote a private, confidential memo to his superiors at a major Wall Street investment bank. The subject line was: "The Patel Anomaly: An Indian Conglomerate's Unprecedented Foresight." The memo detailed the seemingly inexplicable pattern: how a company known for radios and televisions was making staggeringly accurate, early-stage bets on foundational American technology.
A copy of this memo, acquired through Rakesh's ever-expanding web of contacts, landed on Harsh's desk.
He read it in the silence of his office, a slow smile spreading across his face. It wasn't a threat; it was a validation. The outside world was finally noticing the pattern. They didn't understand it, they couldn't explain it, but they could see its effects.
He wasn't concerned about exposure. His actions were legal. His structure was sound. Let them wonder. Let them call it an "anomaly." Their confusion was his advantage.
The first tremors of the digital age were being felt, and Harsh Patel wasn't just feeling them—he was causing them. The colossus was stirring, and its movements were now being monitored from the very heart of global finance. The game was escalating, and Harsh held not just a few good cards, but the entire deck, reshuffled by memory and played with the cold, calculated confidence of a man building his own future.