[Location: Astra Research Division (ARD), Himachal Pradesh | Classified Indian Research Site]
Thunder rolled faintly over the snow-capped peaks outside, but inside the heavily fortified facility of Astra Vigyaan Kendra, the silence was electric. A circular chamber buzzed softly with the hum of quantum processors, digital projectors, and glowing energy cores. Technicians moved quickly between consoles, and screens displayed streams of data no ordinary person could understand.
In the heart of the chamber, surrounded by transparent shielding, stood a machine unlike any built before. Angular, obsidian, and pulsing with violet light—it looked more alive than constructed.
Then it happened.
A young scientist, eyes wide with disbelief, slammed both hands on the console and shouted—
"We did it!"
"We actually did it!"
Heads turned. Conversations froze mid-sentence. Within seconds, the team rushed toward him like gravity had shifted in that direction.
"What did you say?" Dr. Radhika Mehta asked, breathless.
The young scientist pointed at the readings. "Look at the quantum bridge field. Stabilized. Zero fluctuation. The energy signature—it's holding. It's... it's active."
One of the senior physicists leaned in, adjusting his glasses. His jaw dropped.
"This isn't just stable... it's powerful."
"This is beyond theoretical. We've created a self-sustaining dimensional anchor."
The entire chamber fell into a stunned silence. The implications sank in like lead. They had succeeded—whatever they had built, it worked. But what exactly had they tapped into?
Just then, the doors hissed open.
A tall figure stepped in—broad-shouldered, imposing, dressed in an Indian Army uniform. His badges shimmered faintly under the cold lights. The room instinctively straightened up as he walked in, his presence commanding instant respect.
He walked up to the control station, eyes scanning the stabilized energy field. No emotion on his face. Only precision.
Then he pulled out a secure military phone from his vest and dialed.
After a second, the line clicked.
A calm voice answered, "Yes?"
The officer spoke with practiced authority:
"Sir, the device is operational. Fully stabilized. We can initiate the trial phase as soon as the selected soldiers are ready."
There was a pause on the other end—then a deep, composed reply:
"This is excellent news. I will inform the President immediately. We proceed to Phase Two."
"Understood, sir," the officer replied.
"Over and out."
The line went dead.
He looked at the machine again—its pulsating core reflecting faintly in his eyes. No one in the room dared to speak.
Whatever this machine was… it wasn't just a scientific achievement.
It was a weapon. Or a doorway.
Or both.
[Indian Army Training (Project Surya Astra) – Combat Grounds]
The sun beat down hard over the combat yard, glinting off steel helmets and dust-kicked boots. Rivet and Keshav walked alongside their fellow cadets, following a marked trail toward the shooting range. The mood was light but focused—everyone expecting another day with rifles and targets.
But just before they reached the range, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Cadets! Halt."
They turned to see Major Abhay Singh, arms folded behind his back, eyes scanning the squad.
"You won't be training with firearms today," he said. "Today… you'll be introduced to combat weapons. Knives. Swords. Axes. Tools of survival when bullets run dry."
He led them to a shaded equipment platform, where a wide rack stood lined with dozens of weapons—ancient and modern, all gleaming under the light.
"You will each choose one," he continued. "Not just to train with—but to master. From now on, this weapon is part of your soul. In the battlefield, when all else fails, this will be your last line of defense."
The cadets moved forward, some with hesitation, some with excitement.
Rivet walked up to the rack slowly, eyes scanning blade after blade—until his gaze landed on something different.
A twin set of army-grade axes, their blades forged in matte black steel, their handles wrapped for grip. They weren't flashy—but something about them called to him.
He reached out—and picked up both.
As he turned them in his hands, they felt... right. Not just balanced—but familiar.
Keshav stepped up beside him, cradling a curved dagger in his hand. "Good choice, bro."
Rivet smiled. "Same to you."
Keshav looked at the axes. "Why those?"
Rivet paused, genuinely unsure.
"I don't know. I just... walked toward them. Like they were waiting for me."
Keshav chuckled. "Well, that means you'll probably get better at them faster."
Rivet glanced down at the axes again. Something about them stirred something in him. A faint echo. A forgotten instinct.
He looked up—and noticed Arnav across the field, gripping a combat knife. Rivet narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"He's improving," Rivet murmured. "You can see it."
Keshav followed his gaze. "Yeah. Doesn't look like much—but he's making progress."
Rivet nodded.
Keshav leaned in. "What about the girls? Shriti and the others? Think they're doing well too?"
Rivet shrugged. "No idea. Training's separate now, remember? It used to be combined. Not anymore."
Keshav's smile faded into thought. "Yeah… I hope they're okay."
The scene lingered there—Rivet and Keshav sitting in the dust, weapons in hand, shadows long behind them, and something unknown rising ahead of them.
To be continued...