The Prime Minister looked up as Arjun was ushered in.
"Sit," he said simply.
Arjun didn't waste time.
He placed the dossier on the desk.
Photos first.
Burned buildings.
Covered bodies.
Redacted names.
Then numbers.
"Guild violence," Arjun said. "Civilian casualties. Police non-intervention. Military response time."
The Prime Minister flipped a page. Then another.
"You're asking for a force outside existing chains," he said. "That's dangerous."
"So is pretending this isn't already a war," Arjun replied.
The Prime Minister paused.
"Players aren't the enemy," he said.
"No," Arjun agreed. "Uncontrolled power is."
He leaned forward.
"Right now, guilds decide when laws apply. They choose streets. Timings. Victims. That's not freedom—that's feudalism with skills."
The Prime Minister's fingers paused on the page.
"You're assuming confrontation," he said. "But we don't even know what kind of abilities these players possess. If we engage them directly—what about collateral damage?"
Arjun didn't answer immediately.
He reached into the folder and slid out another section.
"Which is exactly why this can't be brute force," he said. "This unit won't try to overpower guilds head-on."
He tapped the file.
"Intel first. Pattern analysis. Financial choke points. Isolation before engagement."
"Collateral damage happens when power is uncontrolled," Arjun said quietly. "This force exists to make sure fights don't happen in crowded streets in the first place."
The Prime Minister leaned back.
"So this isn't an army," he said.
"No," Arjun replied. "It's a scalpel."
Arjun held the Prime Minister's gaze.
"Guilds are still new," he said. "Unstable. Fragmented. Testing limits."
He leaned forward slightly.
"If we leave them alone long enough, they won't stay that way."
The Prime Minister didn't interrupt.
"They'll grow," Arjun continued. "Absorb smaller groups. Merge for territory, resources, influence. What starts as street-level violence becomes organized power."
He let that settle.
"And once they reach a certain size," Arjun said quietly, "you don't fight them without burning half the country down."
The room felt colder.
"Right now," he added, "we can still cut them apart. Later, we'd have to tear them out."
"This is the window," he said. "If we miss it, control won't be an option anymore—only damage control."
Arjun didn't let the silence stretch.
"In fact," he said, "we're already late."
The Prime Minister looked up.
"It took three days just to arrange this meeting," Arjun continued. "In those three days, guilds didn't wait."
He opened another page.
"In Kolkata, two major guilds merged. Kolkata Knight and Kolkata Riders."
He tapped the name written in bold.
"Now they call themselves Kolkata Knight Riders."
"Individually, they were manageable," Arjun said. "Together, they're already twice as strong. More members. More territory. More influence."
"And that's just one example," he added. "Time will do the rest for them. More mergers. Bigger banners. Fewer rivals."
Arjun's voice stayed calm—but sharp.
"Every day we delay, they grow without resistance."
The Prime Minister closed the file slowly.
"I understand your concern," he said. "But a decision like this doesn't rest with me alone."
Arjun didn't react.
"I'll need to consult my internal security advisors," the Prime Minister continued. "Defense. Home affairs. Legal council. If we move wrong here, we set a precedent we can't undo."
He met Arjun's eyes.
"This is too big to decide in one room."
Arjun nodded once. "I expected that."
The Prime Minister stood.
"I'll give you an answer tomorrow," he said. "After I've heard everyone."
Arjun rose as well.
"Tomorrow," he repeated quietly.
They shook hands.
As Arjun turned to leave, he knew one thing for certain—
the guilds wouldn't wait for tomorrow.
The next morning came with no news reports.
No alerts.
No explosions.
That worried Arjun more than chaos ever had.
His phone rang.
A private line.
He answered immediately.
"Yes, sir."
The Prime Minister's voice came through, steady.
"I've spoken to internal security, defense, and legal," he said. "We're moving forward."
Arjun straightened.
"A Player Task Force will be presented to Parliament soon," the Prime Minister continued. "But not in the exact form you proposed."
Arjun's jaw tightened. He stayed silent.
The Prime Minister continued.
"This body will have one clear boundary," he said. "It will operate only on players."
Arjun's eyes sharpened.
"No civilians," the Prime Minister added. "No political groups. No private organizations unless a player is directly involved."
A brief pause.
"It exists to regulate, restrain, and—when necessary—neutralize awakened individuals who break the law," he said. "Nothing more."
Arjun let out a slow breath.
"That keeps it clean," he said quietly.
"It keeps it defensible," the Prime Minister replied. "In Parliament. In public. And in court."
Arjun nodded once, even though the Prime Minister couldn't see it.
"Then we work within that line," Arjun said.
The Prime Minister's voice hardened slightly.
"There's something else," he said.
Arjun didn't interrupt.
"The command structure will be different," the Prime Minister continued. "You won't be in charge alone."
Arjun's expression didn't change.
"There will be a co-command," the Prime Minister said. "Shared authority. Dual oversight."
A pause.
"This keeps the force from becoming personal," he added. "And reassures Parliament that no single hand holds absolute control over it."
Arjun exhaled slowly.
"Who?" he asked.
"That will be decided soon," the Prime Minister replied. "Someone with operational experience and political insulation."
Silence stretched.
Arjun finally nodded.
"Then I'll make it work," he said. "Even with two hands on the wheel."
Arjun didn't say anything more.
The call ended.
The room felt quieter than it should have.
He lowered the phone slowly.
Two hands on the wheel, he thought.
No.
A leash.
Not tight enough to stop him.
Not loose enough to ignore.
They trusted him to act—but not to run free.
Arjun looked out the window, city stretching beneath him. Somewhere out there, guilds were growing. Merging. Testing limits.
Fine, he thought.
Arjun had no intention of stopping.