In his towering office, a man in his mid-thirties worked through stacks of paperwork with meticulous focus. The low hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room — until a soft chime rang.
He turned toward a closed cabinet, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. Placing his hand on the panel, he triggered a biometric scan. The cabinet slid open with a whisper, revealing a relic of another age: an old-fashioned phone resting on a velvet cushion. He picked it up.
"What is it," he asked sharply, "that you had to use this to contact me?"
A pause. Then a cold, sharp voice replied: "What?"
The man said nothing, listening only to the static hum before the line clicked dead. Slowly, he placed the phone back in its compartment, his face unreadable.
"Samarth!"
The office door opened, and a man in a black suit entered, his professionalism barely masking a flicker of concern. "Yes, sir?"
"Prepare the car. We have somewhere to go." His voice carried an urgency Samarth rarely heard.
"But, sir… the work?" Samarth gestured toward the mountain of documents still littering the desk.
"I'll finish it later."
"Yes, sir." A hint of excitement sparked in Samarth's eyes as he hurried out.
Left alone, the man gazed out at the sprawling cityscape through the tall glass window. Neon lights flickered against the horizon, cold and endless. "Now that he is awake," he murmured, "no one can predict how this will unfold. Let's hope he doesn't make things difficult for the family." He turned, and with decisive steps, followed after Samarth.
---
In the green domain, the robed figure stood frozen. His earlier arrogance had evaporated, replaced by dread. The towering being above them radiated such authority that the very air seemed to vibrate with submission.
"I THINK I HAVE BEEN TOO LAX WITH YOU, FOR YOU TO QUESTION MY DECISION," the colossal figure thundered, his voice shaking the void itself.
"No… no, Your Majesty," the robed man stammered, trembling like a leaf.
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT."
"Yes… y-yes, Your Majesty." His body dissolved into the green haze, vanishing as though he had never been.
The chains that bound the man snapped away, evaporating like mist. He lifted his head, a dozen questions ready to spill — but the figure's booming voice cut across him, slightly gentler now.
"YOU ARE LATE. OTHERS' ENVOYS HAVE ALREADY BEEN CHOSEN. YOU ARE FORTUNATE TO HAVE A FAMILY TO RELY ON. I WISH YOU LUCK IN YOUR JOURNEY."
The figure began to fade, his form blurring into the shifting haze.
"Wait!" the man shouted. "Who are you? What do you mean by that?"
Only a whisper remained, carried on the fading wind.
"YOU WILL KNOW… EVENTUALLY."
---
And then it was gone.
The green domain dissolved, replaced by the sterile hum of machines and the white glow of the lab. The robed man, the chains, the towering Majesty — all vanished.
A silence fell. Only a handful of researchers lingered, their wide eyes locked on him. Naked, he suddenly felt exposed, his triumph twisted into a sharp stab of shame. A young researcher, her face flushed, stepped forward hesitantly and offered him a coat.
He took it and pulled it over his shoulders, the fabric scratching faintly against his skin.
The lab doors slid open. Dr. Vikram Rao entered with brisk steps, his face caught between relief and urgency.
"Back to work," he barked to the staff, his voice hard. "And keep your mouths shut."
Turning to the man, he gave a subtle nod and gestured toward a hallway. "Sir. This way."
He led him to a chamber unlike the sterile white labs — a warm, lived-in space with paintings on the walls and furniture arranged with care. A place that felt almost… human.
Dr. Vikram gestured toward a broad sofa. His voice dropped to a quiet, reverent murmur.
"Welcome back, sir."