When the studio lights dimmed and the applause faded, the world did not.
It stayed awake.
Within minutes, social-media dashboards across continents blinked under the same wave: #TheVoiceOfArjun.
Clips from the interview appeared everywhere—his calm face, the soft voice, the single phrase that would echo for months: "To reach the stars without losing sight of each other."
People replayed it not for information but for stillness.
In classrooms, teachers streamed the clip before lectures.
Factory workers replayed it during night breaks.
A London taxi driver told a journalist, "For the first time, tech sounds human."
---
At CosmicVeda, the night crew stayed long after shift hours, gathered around the huge projector in the cafeteria.
Neha walked in quietly, letting the employees finish watching the repeat telecast.
When the final frame faded, someone began to clap; others joined, hesitant then wholehearted.
She smiled at them.
"Back to work tomorrow," she said, half joking.
A young engineer answered, "We're already working—for that."
He pointed to the frozen image of Arjun bowing on the screen.
Neha's laugh caught halfway to a sigh. "Just remember," she said, "even saints need QA reports by Friday."
Laughter rippled; the room relaxed.
---
In New Delhi, the Prime Minister's Office requested a transcript.
Abroad, policy analysts filed papers titled "The Mehta Doctrine: Ethical Autonomy in Computation."
The Vatican's science council issued a short statement: "Morality and invention are not enemies."
Stock exchanges added CosmicVeda to every watchlist; valuation estimates jumped past ₹ 1 200 crore.
But inside Arjun's small Pune apartment, nothing changed.
He still sat cross-legged on the floor, notebook open, pen resting on the margin.
His phone vibrated nonstop; he let it ring.
---
Neha arrived close to midnight, eyes bright with exhaustion.
"You've seen the numbers?"
He nodded. "They're only reflections."
She leaned against the wall, half smiling. "Those reflections just made us the fastest-growing company in India."
He gestured to the notebook. "Growth without direction is drift."
She laughed softly. "You can't even celebrate properly."
"I did," he said. "When the lights went off, for a moment I heard silence again. That's celebration enough."
---
Elsewhere: Voices
A university professor in Tokyo paused mid-lecture and played a subtitled clip for his students.
"This," he said, "is philosophy returning to engineering."
In Munich, the Helios factory operators raised tea cups to the monitor feed and toasted the quiet genius who had rewritten their schedules and maybe their lives.
In Nagpur, his family watched reruns until the station signed off.
His mother whispered, "He still sounds like my son, not a god."
His father replied, "That's why people will listen."
---
The Morning After
At dawn, reporters swarmed outside CosmicVeda's gates.
Microphones rose like flowers seeking light.
Arjun entered through the back door, unhurried.
In the boardroom Neha briefed him.
"Every major outlet wants follow-ups. BBC, CNN, CNBC, half of YouTube."
He shook his head. "Let the first word stand alone. More words will only dilute it."
She sighed. "You know they'll call you evasive."
"Let them. If truth needs repetition, it wasn't heard the first time."
Neha looked at him, half amused, half exasperated. "You're impossible."
"Necessary," he corrected gently.
---
Tremors of Power
By noon, government envoys arrived—polite smiles, stiff suits.
They congratulated CosmicVeda, then slid memoranda across the table: offers of collaboration, technology-sharing, "joint oversight."
Neha handled the diplomacy; Arjun watched silently until one official asked,
"Mr Mehta, would you be comfortable providing limited access to Rudra's core for verification?"
His gaze lifted, calm and absolute. "Verification of conscience doesn't come from inspection," he said.
"Rudra is transparent in outcome. That should be enough."
The meeting ended in polite confusion; no one dared press further.
When the officials left, Neha exhaled hard. "You just scared three ministries."
"They scare themselves," he replied.
---
Ripples
By evening, The Hindu ran the headline:
"A Sage in Silicon: Arjun Mehta Speaks."
Opinion columns debated whether a new "philosophy of creation" had begun.
Religious leaders quoted him in sermons; economists cited him in forecasts.
Somewhere, rival CEOs muttered that mysticism didn't belong in industry.
Arjun read none of it. Instead he walked the quiet halls of Division Rudra.
The engineers were still at their desks, inspired beyond fatigue.
On one monitor someone had written in bright letters:
"Serve creation, never command it."
He paused behind them, touched the edge of the desk, and smiled.
"They listened," he thought.
---
The Library Opens
That night, after the building slept, Arjun returned home and sat to meditate.
The moment his breath steadied, the Library unfolded—not as halls but as an entire sky of light.
Books spiralled like constellations; the air hummed with recognition.
From the centre drifted a single volume, luminous silver, titled The Architect's Burden.
He reached out; words formed in the air before him:
> "To teach truth is to arm the future.
Guard it from the hands that crave only power."
He felt the meaning more than heard it.
Images followed—cities powered by living systems, ships crossing interstellar dark, minds intertwined with light itself.
Every vision ended the same way: with a reminder that each advancement must kneel before empathy.
When the images faded, he whispered, "I understand."
The Library's light dimmed into calm gold, and another sentence lingered in the air:
> "You spoke. Now listen."
---
Listening
Outside, rain began—gentle, endless.
He opened his window; the scent of wet earth filled the room.
Across the city, televisions still replayed his interview; news tickers scrolled his words.
Inside, Rudra's remote monitor glowed softly on his desk: SYSTEM STABLE / MONITORING.
Arjun smiled. "Good," he murmured. "We'll listen together."
Then he closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of rain and the silent pulse of code merge into one steady heartbeat—the sound of a world just beginning to understand itself.
---
📘 Arjun Mehta — Yearly Log Book [Year 6 Post-Event]
Age: 26
Event: Global interview "The Voice of the Creator."
Company Valuation: ≈ ₹ 1 200 crore.
Public Impact: 600 million + viewers; worldwide academic and cultural ripple.
Government Interest: High — requests for collaboration under review.
Personal State: Peaceful, cautious, newly burdened.
Library Status: Unlocked "The Architect's Burden."