Ankit floated a few inches above the cultivation room floor, testing the new weight of his body, feeling how a single thought could tilt his personal gravity field and nudge him left, right, higher. For the first time, "standing" or "flying" felt like the same thing.
Then he began testing his strength.
______
While Ankit was cultivating, the outside world was anything but peaceful.
After the Freedom Union's failed attempt to seize India's weapon blueprints, other powers followed—Xing Nation, the Great Zulu Federation, the Downunder Federation—all sending diplomatic teams, all demanding deeper access to research and sites. Each time, India refused. Only a few trusted allies received limited cooperation and shared experiments.
The pressure did not end there.
Roughly half a month after rejecting the Freedom Union, India was suddenly struck by a wave of coordinated terror attacks. New and old organisations appeared overnight. Some cells targeted government offices; others went after schools and crowded public places, turning ordinary days into scenes of panic.
The leadership and military responded fast, crushing several groups and sealing off hotspots, but the damage was already done. Fear spread faster than gunfire.
To regain control, the government ordered a nationwide lockdown. Aside from key state functions and essential infrastructure, everything else paused. Troops fanned out across cities and borders, hunting for cells and safehouses.
Yet even as hideouts were destroyed, new attacks appeared in residential areas and local communities, like weeds growing back after every cut.
______
In the capital, inside the Prime Minister's official residence, the mood in the meeting room was grim.
Mordan sat at the head of the table, face shadowed. Many generals wore the same hardened expression, but a few ministers and senior officers leaned back with unsettling calm, as if the crisis had nothing to do with them.
Mordan broke the silence first, fixing his gaze on the highest‑ranking officer present.
"General Amit," he said, "even after locking down the entire country, why can't we stop these terrorist attacks?"
General Amit's eyes flicked toward several ministers before he answered.
"Sir, the army is doing everything it can," he replied. "But there are… people interfering. Without authority over them, we can't move freely. I strongly suspect some of them are working with foreign powers to keep this chaos alive."
Mordan understood the message behind his words.
There were hands he could not simply cut off without proof. If he wanted to act, he needed evidence sharp enough to justify it.
"Then gather it," Mordan said. "General Amit, I want those people identified and captured. End this terrorism quickly. We cannot afford to fall behind in this new era."
The general nodded, his gaze sharpening as it passed over a few faces in the room. Targets had already been chosen.
Mordan then addressed everyone. "Does anyone here have a clear idea who might be backing these attacks?"
For a moment, no one spoke. Then one minister cleared his throat.
"I believe the Freedom Union is most likely," he said.
Another shook his head. "No—the signs point toward Xing Nation."
A third added, "I think it's the Karakoram Federation. Our neighbour has always used terror as a weapon here. If any outside country wanted to spread chaos, they'd hire Karakoram cells to act for them—especially with support from blocs like the Freedom Union."
The suggestion chilled the room. Their neighbour was already infamous for sponsoring cross‑border terrorism; adding foreign funding on top of that created a perfect storm.
Still, they could not act on suspicions alone. The meeting ended with a shared understanding: evidence first, consequences later.
______
Several days crawled by.
Attacks slowed, then stopped. No new explosions, no hostage situations, no claims of responsibility. Foreign channels went quiet as well. Many officials assumed the hidden hands had grown afraid after hearing that the army was hunting for proof. Rather than risk exposure or wasted resources, they pulled back.
Mordan did not relax.
The lockdown remained. He wanted the roots, not just the leaves.
Then news arrived that shook him.
A veteran minister—a man considered loyal, someone who had served the nation for more than twenty years—had been arrested by the military for involvement in financing and coordinating terrorist cells.
Mordan's first reaction was disbelief. If even he was compromised, how many more were hiding behind patriotic speeches?
Under interrogation, the minister began to talk.
Names spilled out: other officials, business figures, officers—some greedy, some threatened, some ideologically twisted. The military moved with ruthless speed, arresting and, in some cases, executing those who had crossed the line beyond return.
***
Thanks Odikad odi for your support.
This chapter just for you. Thanks again