"Dr. Rohit! Are you listening to me?"
"Dr. Rohit? Dr. Rohit!" The insistent voice cut through the tense air of the courtroom. Dr. Rohit sat near the witness area, seemingly oblivious, his attention glued to his phone screen amid the assembly of international figures.
"Dr. Rohit, please show respect to the United Nations and answer the question from the panel of judges, or we'll have to summon you to the witness stand." The speaker was the Swiss representative, positioned prominently with his country's flag before him, acting as a mediator in this UN-convened tribunal.
The courtroom formed a vast circle: fifteen judges on one elevated side, representatives from nations on the other, and a single witness standing at the center. Rohit occupied a seat in the right corner, his posture relaxed despite the scrutiny.
Rohit glanced up, annoyance flickering across his face.
"Mr. Representative of Switzerland, I'd like to remind this summit that I submitted my full statement, along with all files and studies on my former colleague Dr. Arya, months ago. As I've said before, I had no part in what he did after our joint research ended. We halted the Meta-gene project when funding dried up. Everything that followed was Dr. Arya's own reckless pursuit, his obsession, his downfall."
One of the judges, the same who had called out earlier, interjected sharply.
"Your research papers reveal nothing substantial." Rohit sighed, leaning forward.
"I've handed over everything I know: our methods, our data, our conclusions. If the panel is implying I'm withholding something I don't even possess, then we're at an impasse." His words hinted at hidden agendas from the committee, sparking murmurs.
The judge's face flushed with anger, but the Swiss representative stepped in smoothly.
"Dr. Rohit, let's clarify. The panel needs to confirm if you have the formula that transformed Dr. Arya—the one that made him… what he was." Rohit raised an eyebrow.
"You mean the Meta-gene activator." He lifted a sheet of paper from his lap.
"I've already submitted this. Before the accident, Arya shared it with me, insisting it could be reversed to stop him. That was before he completely lost control." The skeptical judge scoffed.
"And you expect us to believe that story?" Rohit's eyes narrowed.
"Are you deaf? I've laid it all out. If you refuse to accept it, there's nothing more I can do." The judge bristled, ready to retort, but a colleague beside him, a younger man with a calm demeanor, Richard Flare, an American on the panel placed a hand on his arm to intervene.
Flare addressed Rohit respectfully, pulling out a printed statement. Rohit showed little reaction, his interest waning as he glanced back at his phone. Flare cleared his throat and began reading aloud.
"In your prior deposition, you stated: 'Dr. Arya, before descending into total madness, sent me a video explaining his predicament. He detailed how his Meta-gene research had altered his DNA, granting him superhuman ability to shift and bond and manipulate them. In that video, he provided the formula for an antidote to counteract it, which I then passed to an individual named Krish—someone I suspect may have been another of Arya's experiments.'" Flare paused, looking up.
"Is that accurate, Dr. Rohit?" Rohit nodded absently, humming in agreement without lifting his eyes from the screen.
"Yes, that's correct." Flare pressed on, his tone probing but professional.
"Then, Dr. Rohit, do you have any further information about this Krish? His whereabouts, his involvement, or what happened after he succeeded in using the antidote against Arya? The panel believes this could close key gaps in our understanding—perhaps even prevent future incidents like this." Rohit finally set his phone aside, rubbing his temples as if weary of the repetition.
"If you want to know how Krish used the antidote or how he brought down Arya, why don't you ask him. He's the only one with those answers. I've said it before - I only developed the antidote. That was my role. Nothing more."
The courtroom fell silent, the weight of Rohit's words settling over the assembly. Flare, his expression taut, exchanged a glance with the other judges before pressing on.
"And who is Krish, exactly? Where did he come from?" Rohit's shoulders lifted in a faint shrug.
" Who knows? Maybe a test subject from an earlier experiment that finally worked. Why did they fight? I can only guess. Arya's mind was unraveling; perhaps Krish challenged him. I wasn't there." Flare's voice grew firmer.
" What assurance do we have that Krish won't become another Arya? His power is unprecedented, able to withstand weapons that could annihilate an entire cities." He nodded to an aide, and the lights dimmed. A screen at the room's center flared to life, displaying footage of Brasília's destruction: two superhuman figures clashing, shockwaves shattering skyscrapers, roads splitting like dry earth. The audio carried the sear destruction that happened there, a haunting reminder of the day humanity stared into the abyss.
Krish's form, barely discernible through the chaos, his body enduring blows that defied physics, and the most impactful feet, lifting a boulder the size of a city. The room froze, diplomats and judges visibly shaken by the memory. Rohit's eyes didn't waver.
" Krish isn't your enemy, not yet. I'd advise you not to make him one. He stopped Arya, who could have ended everyone in this room without ever stepping inside."
"He's a threat, nonetheless," Flare countered, his voice low but resolute.
Rohit didn't care.
"The world calls him a hero for saving the world." Flare leaned forward.
" Brazilians may disagree." Said a black guy who is from Brazil, and Flare continued.
"And if he's no longer that hero? If he turns? Can you develop a countermeasure for him, as you did for Arya?" Rohit paused, his fingers brushing his chin, his eyes flickering .
"Yes."
The courtroom erupted gasps, murmurs, chairs shifting as tension spiked. Flare raised a hand for silence.
"Why wasn't this in your reports? Why keep it hidden?" Said the first guy who called for him.
"It's untested," Rohit said, his tone steady but grave.
"It might neutralize Krish, or it might do nothing at all. And he knows I've developed it, he's not blind to my work." A female judge, her face etched with skepticism, interjected.
"Why wasn't this documented? Why withhold critical information from this tribunal?"
Flare gestured for calm, his eyes locked on Rohit.
"Explain yourself, Doctor."
Rohit leaned forward, pointing at the screen, where the frozen image of Brasília's ruins lingered.
" Would you want to wield a weapon that could backfire? Share that formula, and some smart people in your county or worse your government, might try it on Krish, only for it to fail. Who faces the consequences then? You've seen what he's capable of. A force of nature, but for now, he's neutral." and he looked at everyone.
" I'm a scientist; I know exactly how dangerous he is. Don't provoke him. Best case, he fades away, retires. Worst case…" He let the words hang, his gaze once again sweeping the room.
The Swiss representative, his voice measured, broke the silence.
"Dr. Rohit, you're suggesting we do nothing? That we trust Krish's intentions, despite his power?" Rohit's eyes narrowed.
"I'm suggesting you don't poke the hornets' nest, thinking it's honeycomb. Krish stopped Arya, yes, but he's not your puppet. Push him, and you risk creating a new crisis. one you're not equipped to handle."
The female judge spoke again, her tone sharp.
"And what if he's already planning something? You admit he's a potential threat. Why should we believe you're not protecting him?"
Rohit's voice hardened.
"Protecting him? I'm protecting you from your own mistakes. I gave you Arya's antidote to clean up his mess. I didn't sign up to play global police. If Krish is out there scheming, you'll need more than my formulas to stop him. Or you are really that delusional, that you can stop him ." Flare's expression grew grim.
" Then how do we stop him, Dr. Rohit? If it comes to that, what's your solution?" Rohit met his gaze, unflinching, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
"You don't."
A heavy silence fell, broken only by a low murmur from the back. Another judge, an older man with a thick accent, leaned forward.
"You're asking us to live under the shadow of a man who could destroy us all. Surely you have a contingency, something beyond this untested antidote."
Rohit sighed, his patience visibly thinning.
"Contingencies? I've given you what I have. The Meta-gene is unstable. Krish's version, Arya's, all of it. Any move you make risks escalating things beyond control. Do you want my advice? Monitor him, but don't engage. He's playing the hero for now. Let him play."
Flare's voice was almost a whisper.
"And if he stops playing the hero?"Rohit's response was cold, final.
" Then don't blame him for being rude."
The UN tribunal ended in a tense, unresolved silence like usual where with no one satisfied. Dr. Rohit was first to walked out alone, the heavy courtroom doors closing behind him with a dull thud.
Outside, a mob of reporters surged forward, cameras flashing, microphones jabbing through the air.
"Dr. Rohit, is Krish a hero or a threat?" one shouted.
"Did you create him?" another pressed.
"Is it true he's your son?" The questions came like a barrage, but Rohit kept his eyes forward, expression unreadable, ignoring every word. His security team, stern-faced and broad-shouldered, tightened their formation, guiding him through the chaos to a waiting black car. He slid inside, the door shutting out the clamor.
In the quiet interior, Priya, his former student and now lab assistant, sat with a notebook in her lap. She glanced at him, her eyes searching for his calm demeanor. The car pulled away smoothly, leaving the media behind.
" Is it safe to come here?" she asked, her voice low.
"This far, in Switzerland?" she continued.
Rohit leaned back, rubbing his temples.
"They need me alive more than dead. For now, I'm their only lead." His tone was steady, carrying the weight of a man who'd faced scrutiny before. Priya frowned.
"They still doubt you, do they?"
He gave a faint, humorless smile.
"I'd be shocked if they did. Trust isn't their game." He turned to her, his voice dropping.
"Where's Krishna?"
She met his gaze. "The moon."
And far away on the lunar surface, Krish stood alone, staring at Earth's glowing blue sphere. His Krish suit—black, overcoat, nanomaterial woven tight clung to him, its distinct zigzag mask shadowing his face.
Sunlight slowly hits him on the eyes, raw and unfiltered, sending a warm surge through his body. He closed his eyes, savoring the stillness, then exhaled sharply. With a single leap, he launched upward, leaving a small crater in the moon's gray dust, streaking toward Earth.
Below, military bases lit up. In the U.S., a radar tech muttered, "Re-entry detected—lunar trajectory."
In Russia, a screen flashed:
"It's Krish. Alert high command."
China, India, Europe—alarms sounded, tracking his descent.
"He's being monitored," an officer said grimly in one base.
"Every second."
Meanwhile, in a Mumbai news studio, Supriya, Priya's twin sister and a renowned anchor, stood under bright lights, delivering her broadcast. A year ago, her coverage of the Krish-Arya battle had catapulted her fame, as she was the first to report on both figures. Now, she faced the camera, her voice steady but weighted with memory.
"Today marks one year since the catastrophe that shook the world," Supriya began.
"Dr. Arya, a brilliant scientist, unleashed chaos when his Meta-gene research drove him to madness, leveling Brasília and devastating parts of Mumbai. Countless lives were lost." Her tone softened.
" And today marks the day, where a year ago this all happened."
The screen behind her shifted to an animation. "It began with Krish, a figure who emerged at a circus fire, saving children and families from certain death. That was our first glimpse of something beyond humans. Then came Mumbai's coastal earthquake. A tram tunnel collapsed—I was there, trapped, certain it was the end. But Krish broke through concrete, lifted the tram, and saved us all." The animation showed a masked figure punching through debris, pulling survivors to safety.
"The city celebrated, but then disaster struck. Dr. Arya, consumed by his Meta-gene experiments, turned his godlike power against us. Krish, revealed as one of Arya's early failed test subjects, stepped in. With Dr. Rohit's antidote—a scientist whose genius we owe our survival—Krish stopped Arya, saving humanity."
Supriya paused, her voice firming.
"Now, some question if Krish is a danger. To them, I say: where were you when he saved us? Krish is a hero, and in India, we believe he is, and always will be. He's saved countless lives and will save more."
The broadcast ended, and Supriya stepped off the podium, her professional mask slipping as exhaustion crept in. Her cameraman, Raj, offered her a bottle of water. And a man holding a chipboard came.
"Great show, Supriya. Ratings are through the roof—your best yet."
She waved off the clipboard-wielding producer hovering nearby with viewership stats.
"I don't care about ratings. Leave me alone for a bit." They nodded and exited as she entered her office, closing the door.
Inside, she sank into her chair, exhaling heavily.
"What a damn lie," she muttered, her eyes drifting to the wall covered in news clippings and photos of Krish's exploits—headlines of rescues, grainy images of his masked figure. She knew the truth was messier than her broadcast. She'd been there, not just as a reporter but as a witness to the raw, terrifying power of Krish and Arya.
Her phone buzzed. It was Sakshi, a close friend and Krishna's sister.
"Supriya, are you free tonight?" Sakshi's voice was light but tentative.
"There's a new movie about Krish and you, some Bollywood movies. Want to come? It's playing at the Regal."
Supriya's gaze flicked to a poster on her wall—a dramatized image of Krish, all heroic poses and exaggerated effects, far from the real man. She almost laughed at the absurdity of Bollywood's cash grab.
"They never miss a chance to milk a story, do they?" she said, half to herself.
"Come on," Sakshi urged
. "It'll be a laugh. Besides, you've been buried in work since… well, you know. And I really want to see the actor who plays him and the actress who plays you."
Supriya sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"Fine, I'll come. But you know na I've already watched it on premier day."
" yah! Yah! Rub it on me."
" Ok! Ok! I'll come.
"Seaa then. Meet me at seven." Supriya hung up, staring at the poster.
"A hero," she murmured, her voice tinged with doubt. She'd seen Krish's power up close to see what he could do, and what he might become. Her broadcast called him a savior, but the truth gnawed at her: heroes could fall, just like Arya. And she looked at Silovat behind him, which was Dr Arya, or the actor who played him at least.
Hours later, Supriya and Sakshi sat side by side in a packed cinema hall, the scent of buttery popcorn mingling with the buzz of the crowd.
The film about Krish flickered on the screen, a dramatized spectacle of heroism and exaggerated special effects. They munched on popcorn, occasionally exchanging glances as the over-the-top action unfolded, Sakshi laughed when she saw Krish kissing Supriya, on the screen, and even Supriya covered her face, she shouldn't have agreed to them adding a kiss scene. Soon the credits rolled, the audience clapped, but Sakshi's expression was sour as they stepped outside into the humid evening air.
The street was alive with chattering notices from other moviegoers, but Sakshi didn't hold back.
"That was a complete ripoff," she said, tossing her empty popcorn bag into a bin.
" How dare they delete my characters, I'm gonna sue them for everything they worth. I'm a rich second generation. When those Bollywood folks came to interview me about Krish, I gave them everything, everything details, timelines, even offered them coffee and tea to keep them comfortable. And what do they do? Cut my entire character. Aren't I important in his development, wasn't I who forced him to wear that costume and mask in the last battle, that blockhead would rust in just his pyjamas otherwise."
Supriya, walking beside her, gave a small smile, unfazed.
"Well, at least they got Dr. Rohit right. The brooding scientist with all the answers? They nailed that pretentious vibe." Sakshi rolled her eyes, her voice rising.
"Oh, sure, they make Rohit look like some mad savior, but what about me? I'm his daughter, Supriya! I was there when Krish was figuring himself out, and they turned me into a nobody. And don't get me started on that name—Krishtian? Seriously? Couldn't they come up with something less ridiculous?"
Supriya laughed, her first genuine chuckle of the night.
"Come on, at least he looked heroic. That chiseled actor playing Krishtian ? More heroic than the real Krish, if I'm honest." Sakshi snorted, grudgingly nodding.
"Yeah, I'll give them that. He looked more like a hero than my brother ever did, mask or no mask." She paused, then turned to Supriya.
"So, what did you think of the movie? The whole thing, not just their awful casting."
Supriya tilted her head, her smile fading as she considered it.
"You already said it's a ripoff. What else is there?"
"No, I mean the film itself," Sakshi pressed.
"The story, the message, all of it." Supriya thought for a moment, her frustration giving way to reflection.
"It's cliché, isn't it? Typical hero arc—rags to riches, good guy turned great. They made Krish out to be this perfect savior, no flaws, no doubts. It's not real. Life's messier than that."
Supriya nodded, her gaze distant.
"Yeah, it's too neat. Too polished." She hesitated, then added.
"I felt something off watching it. Like they're selling a fairy tale nobody really believes.
Sakshi stopped walking, turning to face her.
"Exactly. Krish comes off too kind, too good to be true. Like he's incapable of breaking."
Supriya's expression tightened, her voice low.
"Being that kind… It's not always a good thing."