Evening came fast.
Mumbai always pretended to slow down at night.
It never did.
Ramkrishan's flat filled with noise before it filled with people.
A knock.
Then another.
No need for the bell.
Neha walked in first, dropping her bag on the couch like she owned the place.
Dhruv followed, already arguing about traffic.
Rakesh came last, quiet, eyes scanning the room out of habit.
Same people.
Same chaos.
"Bro," Neha said, folding her arms. "You better not have called us for a lecture."
Dhruv smirked. "Yeah. Because if this is about discipline, I'm leaving."
Ramkrishan closed the door.
Locked it.
The click was soft.
Final.
"I didn't call you here as friends," he said.
That got their attention.
Rakesh frowned. "Then why—"
"I called you here as players," Ramkrishan continued. "And as a guild."
Silence crept in.
Neha scoffed. "Guild? We're four people."
"For now," Ramkrishan said.
He raised his hand.
A translucent screen bloomed into existence between them.
Not flashy.
Not threatening.
Just… absolute.
[Soul Contract — Initiation Ready]
Dhruv's smile faded. "What the hell is that?"
Ramkrishan looked at them one by one.
"This," he said calmly, "is how we survive what's coming."
The translucent screen hovered between them, steady and indifferent, like it didn't care whether they understood it or not. The faint glow painted their faces—Neha's curiosity, Dhruv's suspicion, Rakesh's quiet alertness
"It's a contract," Ramkrishan said finally. "Not the kind you sign with ink. Not the kind you can walk away from when it gets inconvenient."
Neha tilted her head. "Sounds illegal."
"No," Ramkrishan replied. "It's older than law."
That shut her up.
He moved closer, lowering his hand so the screen floated at chest height, right where none of them could ignore it. "The government's creating a Player Task Force. Guilds are merging. Politics is warming up. That means the free phase is over. From now on, anyone with power will either belong to something—or be crushed by something bigger."
Dhruv crossed his arms. "So what, we chain ourselves together?"
Ramkrishan met his eyes. "No. We choose each other."
The room felt smaller.
Rakesh finally spoke. "And if someone breaks the rules?"
Ramkrishan didn't hesitate. "Then the Tower decides the punishment. Not me."
That was when Neha's smile disappeared.
Ramkrishan took a breath, steadying himself. This was the line. Step back, and everything stayed small. Step forward, and nothing would ever be casual again. "This contract doesn't force loyalty. It enforces honesty. Roles. Boundaries. No backstabbing. No dragging the others into your mess. If you fight, you fight clean. If you run, you warn everyone first."
Thinking silence.
Outside, horns blared. Someone shouted from the street. Life continued like this room didn't matter.
Inside, four childhood friends stood at the edge of something permanent.
Ramkrishan straightened. "I'm not asking you to agree right now. But if we move forward as a guild, this is the foundation. No chaos. No surprises."
The screen pulsed once.
[Soul Contract — Awaiting Mutual Consent]
Ramkrishan stepped back and lowered his hand.
"Think," he said simply.
Because once they said yes—
there would be no pretending this was just a game anymore.
Rakesh was the first to move.
Not toward the screen—away from it.
He leaned against the wall, arms folded, eyes narrowed like he was examining a weapon from a distance. "You're saying this thing doesn't care about excuses," he said slowly. "No loopholes. No 'I didn't mean to.'"
"Yes," Ramkrishan said. "Intent doesn't matter. Agreement does."
Dhruv let out a short laugh, more breath than humor. "That's insane. You're basically asking us to lock our souls together."
Ramkrishan nodded. "Exactly."
Neha paced once across the room, then stopped. "And you just happened to get this skill? By chance?"
"By surviving," Ramkrishan replied. "By doing something stupid in the Tower that paid off."
She studied him. Not the screen. Him. "You planned this."
"I planned for today," he said. "Not for the skill".
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Dhruv exhaled, rubbing his face. "Say I agree. What's my role?"
Ramkrishan shook his head.
"We decide that later"
Dhruv looked up, surprised. "That's… not very guild-leader of you."
"I'm not building a hierarchy," Ramkrishan replied. "I'm building a spine."
Neha stopped leaning on the table and tilted her head. "So what are you locking in with this contract?"
Ramkrishan finally turned the screen toward them fully.
Lines of faint text began to form, slow and deliberate, as if the Tower itself was choosing its words.
"Three things," he said. "Nothing heroic. Nothing dramatic."
He raised one finger.
"First. No betrayal. Not direct, not indirect. No selling each other out—for money, safety, or favors."
A second finger.
"Second. Shared information. If you learn something that could get another one of us killed, you share it. No ego.
A third finger.
"And third," Ramkrishan said, his voice dropping slightly, "if one of us is marked by the system, hunted by the government, or targeted by another guild—we respond together. Running is allowed. Abandonment isn't."
Silence pressed down on the room.
The screen pulsed once, as if acknowledging the terms.
Neha swallowed. "That's it?"
"That's enough," Ramkrishan said.
they talked for a few more minutes [93 to be precise]
and then
Neha exhaled through her nose. "You're insane."
"Probably."
She reached out first.
The moment her finger touched the screen, the system reacted.
[UNREGISTERED GUILD FRAMEWORK DETECTED]
[CONTRACT TYPE: MUTUAL SURVIVAL ACCORD]
[WARNING: TERMS ARE NON-NEGOTIABLE AFTER ACCEPTANCE]
Dhruv and Rakesh hesitated… then placed their hand beside hers.
The glow intensified.
Ramkrishan didn't move immediately.
Then he stepped forward.
[ACCORD ACCEPTED]
[GUILD STATUS: PROVISIONAL]
[NAME: PENDING]
The light vanished.
No fireworks. No fanfare.
Just a quiet pressure in the air—like something heavy had settled into place.
Neha broke the silence. "So… what do we call this spine of yours?"
Ramkrishan didn't hesitate this time.
"Yuga," he said.
The word hung in the air.
"A new age," he continued evenly. "The Tower didn't just open floors. It ended the old world. This is what comes after."
Neha tilted her head. "That's… ambitious."
"It has to be," Ramkrishan replied. "You don't survive a Yuga by staying small."
The screen flickered.
[GUILD NAME REGISTERED: YUGA]
[STATUS: PROVISIONAL — LOCKED]
The pressure shifted—subtle, heavier, final.
Dhruv let out a slow breath. "Guess we just picked a side of history."
Ramkrishan looked at the name once more.
"No," he said quietly. "We're building it."