《GENE Project: Path to Perfection》


 Chapter 1: Things most precious

    There were three great discoveries made during the century.


    Nano-photons.


    Souls.


    The Gene Trinity.


    Nano-photons were basically particles that were a billion times smaller than photons.


    After running the Large Hadron Collider for tens of thousands of hours and burning an astronomical amount of energy, the tiniest particles known to man were detected.


    At first, there was great excitement among the scientific community. What would this new particle mean for science? What theories would be disproved and what new hypothesis would be proposed to take their place?


    But no one expected the actual answer that came out. Souls existed. They were nothing but an agglomeration of the nano-photons in an organism¡¯s body.


    In a historical experiment, a dying man was put inside a completely sealed chamber and the weight of the chamber was measured in total vacuum.


    The moment he died, the weight reduced by a trillionth of a gram and nano-photons were detected leaving the chamber. Everyone was dumbfounded. Something believed supernatural had finally been unravelled by the forward march of science.


    In layman¡¯s terms every sentient being produced nano-photons whenever they thought. Even single celled organisms like bacteria produced it in small amounts. But, in the rest of the universe, the particles were totally absent.


    Thus, they were called life particles. Many fantasy fans and mystics began to give it various names. Mana, prana, od, chakra, qi, reiatsu¡­ there were as many names as there were cultures.


    This sort of thinking was further amplified when the ability of a person¡¯s thoughts to affect their souls were discovered.


    It was simultaneously discovered that souls could affect the body.


    This led to the opening of the Gene Era.


    ***


    Aman walked over to the Gene Analyser by the roadside and placed his thumb on the marked area. He felt a slight pricking as the sterilized disposable needle drew a small amount of blood.


    Taking back his thumb, he fumbled about his pocket for his wallet.


    Swiping his student ID card through the slot provided activated the Gene Analyser.


    A row of data and numbers flashed on the screen as it broke down his DNA into the constituent genes and matched them to its database.


    Soon, the results were displayed upon the screen:


    Name: Aman Batra


    Strength: 5


    Agility: 7


    Endurance: 3


    Intelligence: 9


    Charisma: 1


    He sighed at the abysmal numbers as he ruefully watched the charge for the appraisal being deducted from his scholarship money. Shaking his head, he shouldered his bag and walked towards his home.


    Upon reaching his residence, he frowned in annoyance as he saw the trash piled up in front of the gate. He clenched his fist.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Really, too excessive.


    Their house was in the way of a construction project. This was just one of the many petty ways in which the goons of the contractor were making life difficult for them.


    He sighed and entered through the side gate with his personal key.


    When he opened the door, the sound alerted his mother and she called out from the kitchen. ¡°Is that you, son?¡±


    Placing his bag on the living room sofa he responded. ¡°Yes, ma.¡±


    ¡°Wash up. Lunch will be ready soon.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Is Preeti awake?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Nodding he entered the bathroom and began to freshen up.


    In the mirror, an incomparably familiar, yet strange face stared back at him. Just a year ago, his head would have been on the level of the top edge of the mirror, now, his chin was level with the bottom.


    A year ago, his muscles were well defined. Now, his frame was bulky but with rolls of loose flab instead of taut musculature.


    Just a year ago, his face could be called handsome due to its sharp features and symmetry. Now, there was only one word that fit him: ugly. Acne and pockmarks covered his skin while his features lacked symmetry. One eye was even larger than the other.


    He chuckled self-depreciatingly. Well, everything had a price. He had willingly paid his.


    Aman walked to his younger sister¡¯s room and knocked.


    ¡°Come in.¡± The voice that replied was very feeble.


    Pushing open the door, he entered and found her lying on the bed connected to several medical instruments that were monitoring her vitals.


    She was utterly pale from the lack of sunlight and her head was bare after the chemotherapy sessions had caused her hair to fall out.


    Preeti had been diagnosed with leukaemia a year ago after she had fainted in her school.


    Aman and Preeti¡¯s mother had raised the two of them alone after her husband had died in an industrial accident a few months after Preeti¡¯s birth.


    Aman was five then.


    For the first few years the money compensated by the company at which their father worked and his life insurance had been enough for the family to meet their daily requirements.


    But, soon, the money started running out and their mother had to work.


    From then onwards, Aman had taken care of Preeti. It could be said that the two siblings were bound by a common destiny.


    So, when he had heard Preeti needed money for her treatment, he had unhesitatingly sold off his stats.


    As had their mother.


    He sat down by her bedside and held her hand.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    Despite the pain she must be suffering from, the brave girl smiled for him and replied, ¡°I¡¯m feeling well, brother. I¡¯ll be all better soon.¡±


    Thankfully, the cancer had been caught in the early stages and the malignant cells removed. The chemotherapy was mainly for the prevention of a recurrence.


    After a year in and out of the hospital, she was finally free to come home. She was still under observation and still would be for the next couple of months.


    Preeti¡¯s eyes ran over his face. She couldn¡¯t help but rebuke herself. Her brother had been so handsome. He had been so strong.


    But now, for her, he had sold off parts of himself. He had traded her continued life with his genes. She couldn¡¯t help but feel guilty and tears appeared in her eyes.


    ¡°Shh. Don¡¯t cry. It was all worth it. To me, what is my appearance. What is strength if I can¡¯t ever see you smile again? So, smile for me? Give a big smile for your brother.¡±


    Her lips curved up in a watery grin and Aman laughed with his trademark booming laugh which caused him to devolve into a coughing fit midway because his lung capacity was greatly reduced when he had sold off his endurance.


    Comforting the worried girl and soothing her to sleep, he quietly stepped out of the room and went to the dining room.


    She couldn¡¯t eat proper food yet and had to be given nutrients intravenously. Also, she was easily exhausted by conversation.


    He clenched his fist.


    He didn¡¯t want her to suffer anymore. For that he had to do just one more thing. It was something he had been planning ever since the cancer was detected but didn¡¯t have the means to do until she was out of danger.


    Tomorrow would be the day.


    He sat down at the table with his mother and said his thanks for the food. His mother sat down beside him.


    ¡°How was school today, son?¡±


    His eyes twitched but he did his best to not let her worry by suppressing his reaction. ¡°It went well.¡±


    After a few more mundane questions, they both concentrated on the food.


    As they ate, Aman sometimes took a look at his mother.


    She, like him, had sold off all her genes except the intelligence genes to the limit until which it wouldn¡¯t affect daily life.


    Their views on this were consistent.


    Appearance, strength all these were important but in the face of the life of a family member, they paled in comparison.


    After he had finished eating his dinner, he took out the trash.


    Carrying two bags of segregated garbage, one in each hand, he walked down the block towards the dumpster at the end.


    Turning the corner, he prepared to dump the bags into their respective bins when he was shocked by the sight that greeted him.


    In the alley, leaning against the dumpster, bleeding from multiple wounds was an extremely handsome man. Other than his unnaturally good looks and his open wounds, what set him apart from the masses was his long pointed ears.


    He was an elf.

 Chapter 2: The Beginning

    When you hear the term elf, the first image that springs to mind is the fantasy humanoid creature with tapering, elongated ears and long lifespan.


    If you are a bit more of a fantasy geek, then you might even think of the various classifications like the wood elf, dark elf, high elf and so on and so forth.


    But the Elf in front of Aman was a bit removed from fantasy.


    Elf: a human who has been genetically modified to have extended lifespan and as a side effect has developed elongated ears.


    From the beginning of time man has been fascinated by the concept of eternal life and eternal youth.


    So, when a new breakthrough appeared in science in the form of the nano-photons, everyone thought that this time, they might just have found the key to unlock the gate to immortality.


    While many researchers tried to find a clue from long-lived animals like the tortoise and the Koi fish, the first ones to succeed was the Indian company: Ganesh Genes.


    Named after the Hindu elephant-headed god of prosperity: Lord Ganesh, the company used the genome of the Indian elephant to create the Longevity gene ampoules.


    The thing is, the more the genome differs from humans, the harder it is to adapt the genes for human use.


    The others were trying to adapt reptiles and fishes while they tried it out with a mammal, so while the gene ampoules only increased five years of life and had the side effect of elongating the ears of the patients, they were the first kids on the block and their gene ampoules were all the rage.


    When the first ads for the Ganesh Gene Longevity gene ampoules hit the network, the entire world went into a tizzy.


    The bloggers and memers of the world took very little time to give the handsome actor in the ad the moniker of Elf despite his ear shape being different than his pointy-eared fantasy cousins.


    Not only were the ampoules lauded as the modern fountain of youth and the scientific version of the elixir, as more and more elves began to appear across the globe, the formation of a new social community was underway.


    Today, four years after the release of the ampoules, most of the elite in the world have transformed into elves and possessing elven ears has become a status symbol.


    Several elves have even taken to decorating their ears with blingy jewellery to further emphasise their feature.


    Basically, the statement they want to make is something along the lines of: ¡°Look here plebs, look at my ears and despair, I¡¯ll live five years longer than you cause I¡¯m so much more deserving. In your face, bitches.¡±


    So, you can easily imagine Aman¡¯s surprise when he came across an Elf bleeding out in a shady alley in the shadiest part of town.


    He slowly took a step backwards.


    Nope. Nothing to see here. Moving on. An unimportant person like him shouldn¡¯t get involved with matters that had Elves getting injured so badly.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°B-oy if you t-ake another step, I¡¯ll des-cribe you t-o my pursuers.¡±


    Aman stiffened and slowly turned around. Narrowing his eyes, he began to appraise how close the Elf was to death and whether he would croak before his so-called pursuers showed up and whether there was anything he could do to hurry him on his way.


    He didn¡¯t want to involve himself with what looked like a gang war gone bloody. But with the thret of the Elf looming over him, he couldn¡¯t afford to just walk away.


    What if the elf¡¯s pursuers traced him to his home. His family would be in danger.


    He was just about to test how effective a kick to the balls would be when the elf spoke out again in his feeble voice.


    ¡°B-oy, you best not try an-yt-hing stup-id.¡±


    Suddenly, Aman felt a huge pressure covering him and oppressing his soul. He was forced to his knees by the oppressive feeling.


    It was as if he was staring into the eyes of a snake and he had stiffened with fear. What shocked him the most was that the pressure originated from the dying elf.


    This was at least Tier 3 soul pressure!


    The Elf was not one of those filthy rich businessmen. He was a veritable genetic expert. A warrior who had exceeded the limits of humanity.


    He shivered. If he had actually tried to kick the guy in the balls, it would probably be the last thing he would do in his life.


    ¡°Wh-at do you want from me?¡± he managed to squeeze out through his mouth as he fought the soul pressure.


    ¡°Oh? You c-an speak ev-en under my op-pression? It see-ms that you aren¡¯t the waste I tho-ught you we-re.¡±


    Suddenly the pressure was gone and Aman collapsed onto the ground, gulping in deep breaths.


    He shakily stood up and looked at the seemingly harmless man with fear in his eyes.


    The elf took a deep breath and suddenly, his wounds stopped bleeding and his entire being became energetic. He got to his feet and a huge pressure once again emanated from him.


    It was like looking at a mountain even though the man was the size of an ordinary human.


    But, from his pale face, it was clear that he had used some sort of soul technique in order to forcefully stimulate his body¡¯s potential.


    It was his last burst of magnificence before dying. When he spoke, his words were no longer feeble, they possessed a magnetic charm that made one subconsciously take him very seriously.


    ¡°Now, I am going to give you the thing they have chased me for. Seeing how you tried to run away when you first saw me, you have a good head on your shoulders. You should understand what will happen to you and anyone remotely close to you if they find out that you have this thing.


    ¡°Take it and run away. I will delay them as much as possible. then what you do with it is up to you. You can throw it away in a trash can, bury it in an unmarked plot. I will be happy knowing that they didn¡¯t get their hands on it.


    ¡°But, if like me, you aren¡¯t able to bring yourself to throw away the limitless potential locked away inside it, you can use it. Sooner or later, you will find your interests clashing with theirs.¡± He grinned in a feral manner. ¡°I would love to see how much better or worse you would fare against them.¡±


    After he had finished speaking, he grimaced and reached behind the nape of his neck and with a grunt of pain, he dug his fingers into his body and pulled out his Soul Sensor.


    Aman¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. The soul sensor was attached to nerves, just brutally pulling it out would hurt like hell. The elf¡¯s willpower was inhuman as he barely let out a grunt.


    After pulling it out, the elf¡¯s aura diminished greatly. The soul sensor was very important for a gene-warrior. Without it, their abilities would not even be half as effective. Not that Aman could take him on now that he was weakened.


    The elf could still kill him easily.


    ¡°Take it.¡± Said the elf as he held out the bloody sensor.


    Aman dropped the two garbage bags, took out his handkerchief, wrapped the bloody sensor in it and put it in his pocket.


    The elf nodded in approval. ¡°Now go!¡±


    Then in a show of superhuman strength, in a single leap, he jumped nearly ten metres and caught the projected grille of the third floor window of the building adjacent to the alley before swinging himself up and jumping again.


    Soon, he had reached the roof and disappeared from sight.


    Recovering from his shock, Aman ran away from the alley as fast as his feet could take him. He didn¡¯t know what was going on, but he knew that getting far away was the best choice.

 Chapter 3: Decisions

    After the discovery of nano-photons and souls, several attempts were made to try and influence the particles.


    Basically, human, or for that matter, any living cell generated biomagnetism which had been shown to be the source of nano-photons.


    So, Nishith K. Kishore felt that it would be extremely logical for bio magnetic fields to be able to influence the nano-photons.


    Therefore, he put his ideas to the test and it was discovered that our brain waves could affect souls. For his discovery, he was awarded the Nobel Prize and hailed as one of the founders of the Gene Era.


    While it is true that brain waves can affect souls, the effects are extremely negligible under ordinary circumstances. Only the most intense of brain waves can cause the soul to change substantially enough to affect the body.


    As an example, the Placebo effect occurs when the brain strongly perceives something to be correct and the soul responds to the belief and alters the body accordingly.


    There was a case where an obese person was given sugar pills daily and told that the pills were a new weight loss drug which was extremely effective.


    Fabricated statistics were also shown to him about people who had lost weight after just taking a pill a day¡­ no exercise, no diet control.


    Surprisingly enough, the man lost over 5 kg in a week.


    This is where the soul sensor comes in. It is a device that can amplify the ability of the brain to detect and influence the soul.


    It basically acts like an additional sense organ that allows one to sense the soul. Every child who can afford to do so is equipped with a Soul Sensor at the age of 14 through a surgery.


    As the technology advances and the sensors grow increasingly cheaper, the userbase is growing broader. More and more people are joining the gene era.


    Preeti¡¯s fourteenth birthday was coming up and Aman wanted to gift her a sensor.


    Although, the effect of the mind on the body via the soul wasn¡¯t really that reliable, it had been proven to make subjects much less prone to diseases, including ones like cancer.


    In Preeti¡¯s case, her chances to have a relapse would be drastically reduced and her recovery would speed up if she was equipped with a Soul sensor.


    ***


    Aman stared at the ceiling of his room blankly, the flat stretch of white paint doing little to distract him from the events of the day.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    After the elf had released his hold on him, he had run as fast as his degraded constitution could carry him and fled the alley. He didn¡¯t want to spend another moment in that dangerous place. He had absolutely no curiosity about the ¡®them¡¯ that were hunting the man down.


    After reaching home, he had put his soiled handkerchief into the washing machine and started a spin in order to remove all traces of the blood. He didn¡¯t want to worry his mother after all.


    While his mother was occupied with helping Preeti with her physio in order to prevent bed-sores, he had sneaked the Soul Sensor into his room.


    Now it was in one corner of his cupboard, hidden under a pile of his clothing.


    Right now, he was in a dilemma about what to do with the thing. While the voice of reason in his head was urging him to discard the hot potato and throw it in a dumpster somewhere, the other part of him, the ambitious part, kept telling him that this might be great opportunity.


    Due to the state of his genes, he had been marginalized by his peers. the same peers who had tried every means to get close to him when he was still handsome and the captain of the football team.


    However much he might have matured under the cold shouldering of his peers, he was still a warm-blooded youth.


    No matter how elaborate and rational his plans for his future, they involved a large amount of patiently biding his time.


    Which young and ambitious fellow could be truly resigned to a life of obscurity until his mid-twenties? The seven or so years in front of him seemed to stretch on endlessly like a bleak desert landscape.


    But now, the Soul sensor in his cupboard was like an oasis and it was attracting him with promises to quench his thirst for the limelight from which he had been so prematurely displaced.


    There was a large amount of risk involved in using the sensor as it would put him firmly in opposition with the unknown organization that had chased down the elf.


    But, the fact remained, they had no idea that he had the sensor. The elf was the only one in the vicinity when he had passed on the device and he already had one foot in the grave.


    If he was stealthy enough about it, he could get rich silently and they would be none the wiser.


    He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. It was a decision of great importance and he didn¡¯t want to make it impulsively and regret later.


    There were several logistic difficulties involved in keeping the Sensor a secret.


    Since it was so important, it had to be a very advanced model and would raise suspicions about how someone like him got his hands on it.


    The only place he could think of where the operation to replace the Soul sensor he had currently with that one could be done confidentially was the grey market hospital.


    There was a vague plan fermenting in his mind about giving his sensor to Preeti while he used the ill-gotten one but he would have to iron out the details and ensure that it would be worth it.


    He sighed and got up from his bed.


    Anyway, he wasn¡¯t going to be reaching a decision anytime soon. He needed more time to think on it. Maybe after a night¡¯s sleep, he would have new ideas.


    Going out of his room, he saw Preeti walking around in the living room with the support of his mother. Her complexion was pale and there were close beads of sweat on her forehead, denoting how even such little movement was strenuous for her.


    His eyes went to the IV canal attached to the back of her hand with a bandage. She wasn¡¯t in a state to consume solid food yet, having to obtain all her nutrient requirements via IV drips.


    The faster he got her a Sensor, the faster her health would take a turn for the better.


    Aman decided that the next day he would do his best to gather information about means to get his sensor replaced confidentially.

 Chapter 4: Hardship

    Aman reluctantly dragged himself to school.


    As he walked in through the gates, he could feel the stares of the others who were entering along with him.


    He had practice dealing with the stares.


    A year ago, when he had been tall, muscled and handsome, the stares had been ones of admiration and envy.


    Over the months, as he had steadily sold off his genes, the stares had reduced in intensity till they had reached utter disregard before they had begun to transform into ones of loathing and disgust.


    He was inured to the stares after learning how superficial society really was.


    He was still the same person inside, yet the treatment he received was so disparate.


    That was why the Government banned the trading of intelligence genes as it basically meant fundamentally altering someone¡¯s personality.


    Not that it stopped black market traders.


    Aman knew. He had grown quite familiar with the shadier elements of the city over the year as selling privately gave more money than selling genes to the Government.


    He quietly sidled into the classroom and took his seat in the most inconspicuous corner.


    Soon, a loud, brash voice disrupted the quiet of the morning.


    The owner of the voice was the reason for his discretion.


    Ashok Rana was the definition of the schoolyard jock. He was large, he was muscled and he was athletic.


    But until a year ago, his halo had been covered by Aman.


    He was the vice-captain of the football team. Aman had been the captain.


    He was the second-most popular guy. Aman was the undisputed first.


    Having perpetually been supressed by Aman, he had accumulated a lot of resentment and when misfortune had struck, he had made sure to make Aman¡¯s school life as hellish as possible.


    The heckling and bullying had been particularly intense for the first few months but had slowly settled to the level of an occasional beat down.


    After all, punching someone got boring after the hundredth time.


    Ashok¡¯s eyes scanned the class and they lit up when they rested upon Aman.


    Aman¡¯s heart sank.


    Damn. It seemed that he was in the mood for some exercise today.


    He gritted his teeth and lowered his head while his nails dug into his palm under the desk.


    It was at moments like this that he wished he had his strength back just so he could sock the brat right in his smug face.


    The bell rang and the teacher walked in with her books.


    Eveline D¡¯Souza had mixed British-Indian heritage and was a devout catholic.


    She taught Aman¡¯s class English; both the literature and grammar portions. Today, she had a large packet along with her.


    The graded mid-semester tests.


    The class went into a tizzy of discussion about how they had done before a sharp glare through her horn-rimmed glasses brought them to heel.


    She was infamous for being extremely stingy with her marks and even those with confidence in their performance felt nervous.


    Aman calmly waited for his results. After the incident with his sister, he had rapidly matured, shedding a lot of the impetuousness of youth.


    He had done his best and whatever that got him, he would accept and move on.


    But when Miss D¡¯Souza reached the end of her pile without calling out his name, he finally grew nervous. He hadn¡¯t mislabelled his paper, had he?This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    If so, he would fail the test. His intelligence was the only thing that he had retained.


    He didn¡¯t want even that to stop mattering due to some freak accident.


    Just when he was about to panic, the teacher took out a paper from her bag and said, ¡°In my several years teaching this class, this answer sheet is the best I have ever received. Considering that the next best result was only an eighty percent, I have decided to award him full marks. I hope you all can learn something from Aman¡¯s answer sheet.¡±


    She adjusted her glasses, causing them to flash white. ¡°I have sent a copy to you by mail. I want a comparison of your answers with his on my desk by the end of next week. Failure to do so will cause a grade to be deducted from your final results. Any questions?¡±


    Aman shrank into his seat. While he was happy with his grade, the resentful visions of his classmates were almost substantive.


    Particularly, the gaze of Ashok and his cronies spelt retribution.


    When the lunch bell rang, Aman made a dash for the door. His agility was the only stat except intelligence which he hadn¡¯t sold much of. So, he was quite close to his old speed as previously the stat had been 8.


    Unfortunately, though he was fast, Ashok and his cronies were prepared.


    Two hulking guys, Ronnie and Rohit stood there blocking the door like bouncers at a bar. Aman had to stop short. as he took a step back, he bumped into someone behind his back.


    He looked up to see that it was Ashok, grinning at him maliciously. He clenched his teeth at the feeling of powerlessness. A year ago, he would be the one looking down on the bastard.


    He suddenly felt a fist to his stomach and the air rushed out of his lungs as he doubled up in pain.


    Ronnie and Rohit didn¡¯t let up the opportunity by kicking him from the back and making him sprawl on the ground. Rohit put a foot on the small of his back while Ronnie pressed down his head with his foot. From where his face was turned, Aman could see his classmates silently looking on.


    Nobody dared to protest against Ashok. Nobody even wished to stand up for him. In fact, some seemed to be enjoying the show.


    Bastards. He cursed in his mind.


    A shoe blocked his field of vision and he knew it was Ashok¡¯s. ¡°That should show you. Smarty-pants. Perfect score in English and now we all have to compare our answers with yours. Peh.¡±


    Aman tried to struggle but he had no leverage and after a while he had to give up.


    Ashok nudged his face with his shoe. ¡°Oi. Shouldn¡¯t you apologize to everyone? C¡¯mon. Say sorry.¡±


    Aman mumbled out a reply.


    Ashok hinted Ronnie to let up the pressure on his foot. ¡°Say it louder, dumbass.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    Ashok¡¯s face clouded over. He was just going to say something when a clear female voice resounded.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Aman¡¯s heart sank to the valley. Moving his head with difficulty, he saw the speaker approaching them.


    It was a pretty girl with dark hair tied up in a ponytail that swung with her brisk steps.


    They weren¡¯t the only things that swung with her footsteps.


    Ashok grinned and welcomed the girl. ¡°Sneha. No need to worry. Just taking out the trash.¡±


    He stepped up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. She made a token protest before letting him do as he wished, not complaining even when his hand slipped below her waistline.


    Aman¡¯s eyes almost seemed to burn as he stared at the two of them.


    Sneha had been his girlfriend for almost a year when his sister fell ill and he had to start selling off his genes.


    She hadn¡¯t said anything at first but after the second month when the effects began to become prominent, she had straight up dumped him.


    While he had tried hard to come to terms with her leaving him. Her actions had made it utterly impossible to forgive her.


    It hadn¡¯t even taken her a month to hook up with Ashok.


    It seemed that she just wanted to have the most popular boy as her boyfriend. It didn¡¯t matter who that was.


    Not only that, she often provoked Ashok to act against him while acting like she was trying to dissuade him which fired the dumb brute up further.


    She also made it seem like Aman hadn¡¯t lost heart and kept stalking her, thus ruining his reputation.


    As he watched, Ashok started getting really sticky with her and yet she didn¡¯t push him away.


    Aman sneered internally. During their entire relationship, she hadn¡¯t even let him touch her while now she was behaving so profligately.


    The thing was that with him as her ex-boyfriend, she probably had to put down her stance to get Ashok to be her boyfriend.


    When Ashok got a bit too excessive, she pushed him away and whispered something into his ear.


    From his excited look, the contents could be guessed.


    Ashok waved at Rohit and Ronnie. ¡°Take the trash away. I don¡¯t have time to play with him now.¡±


    He then left with Sneha.


    Throughout the entire time, she didn¡¯t even spare him a look.


    Rohit pulled him to his feet and Ronnie twisted his arm behind his back until he had to stand on tiptoes to reduce the pressure.


    Then the two goons frog-marched him to the male washrooms.


    Seeing them come in, the people inside hastily cleared out.


    They were in the final year of school and nobody wanted to mess with them.


    Pushing him into a cubicle, Rohit gave his back a push and without any leverage, he fell forwards.


    With a splash his face went into the toilet bowl and Ronnie fisted his hand in his hair and held him down.


    He began thrashing and bucking wildly as he tried to surface to breathe.


    His low endurance stat making him unable to bear it for long.


    Just as the edges of his vision were going black, Ronnie let him go and he came up coughing and sputtering.


    He lay there curled up on the floor breathing in shuddering gasps.


    The sound of Rohit and Ronnie¡¯s laughter seemed to be far away.


    He indistinctly heard the sound of pants being unzipped and then two pungent warm streams covered him.


    He only lay there with his mind blank.


    After a short while, the two of them stopped and went away. He could hear their laughter growing fainter. After a while, he shakily stood up and walked up to the basin and washed his hair and face.


    He looked at the haggard, ugly face staring back at him. He pushed the dripping wet strands of hair off his face.


    Someday. Somehow. He would have his revenge.

 Chapter 5: Preparations

    Aman walked up to the third cubicle in the washroom and reached behind the toilet.


    There, wrapped in a plastic packet was a change of clothes.


    This wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened.


    The very first time the boys had decided that it would be a good idea to spoil his uniform, he had to go and sit in the infirmary in his underwear till the clothes dried.


    Once bitten, twice shy.


    He had taken precautions against such a thing happening in the future and that is how, ten minutes later, he was out of the washroom in a clean set of clothes while the soiled ones were in the plastic packet under his arm.


    More laundry.


    The bell for the end of lunch had already rung and he didn¡¯t want to go back to class just yet.


    Seeing him in a new uniform minutes after they had so imaginatively soiled the old one would give the brutes ideas.


    Ideas that involved doing it again after class.


    No thank you. He had stuff to do after class and doing it wet and stinking of ammonia wasn¡¯t his idea of fun.


    Actually, come to think of it, he had very little interest in the classes following lunch.


    History, Physics and physical education.


    They were either subjects that involved rote memorization, subjects he had studied ahead or subjects which his current body couldn¡¯t keep up with.


    He might as well get the task out of the way.


    Having decided to skip school, Aman made his way to the lockers.


    That was where he kept most of the important stuff like his wallet and ID card.


    As for his bag and notebook¡­


    Rummaging around in the bushes below his classroom window netted him his bag.


    Thankfully nothing was missing. They at least hadn¡¯t stooped to thievery.


    Shouldering his bag, he made his way out of the school gates and took a bus downtown.


    After switching between two buses and an auto-rickshaw, he finally reached his destination.


    The black market.


    Or rather, the entrance to the black market.


    The true market was underground and little boys like him, who hadn¡¯t even passed out of school weren¡¯t welcome.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    He would have to make do with the stalls that had spilled out from the black market and set up on the periphery of its entrance.


    Sometimes jokingly called the grey market, this area was half as lawless and correspondingly half as economically friendly as the darker version underground.


    As the proverb went: ¡°Risk and riches go hand in hand.¡±


    A dazzling array of goods were up on display.


    Signs reading ¡°Tier 1 gene ampoules for 20% off!¡± or ¡°Tier 2 gene ampoules with maximum compatibility rates guaranteed.¡± In bold lettering in neon colours were everywhere.


    Aman didn¡¯t let the signs distract him though.


    He was here for a purpose and he knew what he had to do and was familiar with where to go.


    After all, it wasn¡¯t his first time here.


    As he weaved his way through the streets crowded with buyers from all walks of life, he was stopped short by a sign in front of a shop.


    ¡°10 % off on the latest Soul Sensors. Limited time offer. Hurry and buy now!¡±


    Aman¡¯s reason for coming to the grey market was two-fold. Firstly, he wanted to raise some cash by selling his genes.


    Secondly, he wanted to use that money to have his soul sensor replaced.


    Aman had a plan.


    Despite selling off his genes little by little, he hadn¡¯t lost faith in his ability to bounce back from the cusp of adversity.


    It was because of his intelligence stat. It was 9.


    The maximum value for a stat that a human can have is 10. It is the limit of the human body.


    Let us take the strength stat for example. A value of 5 would be considered average while an Olympian weight lifter would have a stat of anything between 8 to 10.


    Now, you are probably confused by this. Shouldn¡¯t the Olympian have a stat value of 10?


    The stats actually reflect the potential of the genes present in the body of the person being evaluated.


    Say for example a man has a stat of 10 but he doesn¡¯t exercise at all. Then he won¡¯t be able to lift a weight that a trained lifter with the stat of 8 will be able to.


    So, while stats are important, they aren¡¯t the be all, end all.


    Aman was one of the few people who lived up to the potential his stat claimed.


    He was extremely proficient at academics and his IQ test results showed that he could utilize his level 9 intelligence genes to their full potential.


    That was why he was extremely confident in his future prospects.


    So what if he was weak and ugly now?


    Give him five years and after he graduates from the best engineering college in the country and gets a high-paying job, he¡¯ll be able to buy all that back with his first salary.


    Like all technology, gene tech was getting cheaper and cheaper as the days went by and the production processes were optimized. By the time he got his first salary, maybe the required gene ampoules would be cheap enough that he would be able to get all his stats to 10?


    Actually, nowadays, there was a trend slowly catching on.


    It was called build optimization.


    The term originated from RPG lingo, where there were several categories of players like mages who focused on mana based stats like int and wis while the warrior classes focused on the physical stats like str, end and const.


    In reality, there were some people who were trying to optimize their stats.


    They did so by classifying stats as hard and soft stats.


    The strength, agility and endurance stats were the Hard stats while the intelligence and the charisma stats were called the Soft stats.


    Depending on their occupation, they sold off the stats in one category and used the money to purchase stats in the other.


    For example, a software programmer would want to invest in the soft stats while a weight lifter or athlete would want to invest in the hard stats.


    The logic was that everything was difficult at the beginning. With the optimum stats one could get a huge boost in their career early on and then after getting promoted, they would have enough money to fill out the stats they had traded away before.


    What Aman had planned was based on this logic.


    But instead of more soft stats, he had bought his sister¡¯s health.


    The money for the operations and chemotherapy was urgently needed and selling his genes was the only way he or his mother could think of to meet that demand.


    But after the bullying today, he had lost his patience. He wanted to take a risk. Gamble that the dubious soul sensor would be capable of reversing his fate.


    Thus, he had no qualms in trading away the last of his high stats: Agility.

 Chapter 6: The Gene Trinity

    Aman turned the corner and came face to face with a large white building.


    All over the building, there were DNA motifs scattered around.


    The railings on the roof were made of twined steel rods, the gates had twined reliefs and even the large circular logo that was displayed on the front had a border with twined lines.


    It was a gene hospital.


    Like regular specialized hospitals, it only dealt with medical procedures related to genetics.


    Actually, there were only three.


    Gene Analysing, Gene Extraction and Gene Fusion.


    The so-called gene trinity.


    The Gene Analyser was an extremely common machine that could be found anywhere. Just like the weighing machines of yore, they could even be found on the roadsides.


    Just pop a card in and a drop of blood and you¡¯re done.


    Actually, the Gene Analyser had its roots in the Human Genome Project which ran from 1990 to 2003.


    Even now, in 2080, the research results from that are relevant.


    Using more optimised algorithms and more powerful hardware, along with extremely efficient chemical gene extraction techniques, the Gene Analyser could easily read the genetic profile of an individual extremely accurately and fast.


    They weren¡¯t particularly impressive, though, once upon a time they belonged to the realms of science fiction.


    The actually impressive machines were the Gene Extractor and the Gene Fuser.


    As their names suggested, the former extracted genes from a patient and the latter fused them with another individual.


    What¡¯s impressive about that you ask? We could do that even in 2003.


    Take a tissue sample and you can easily get someone¡¯s DNA fingerprint. Didn¡¯t tech progress in the intervening 77 years?


    If you really think that way, then you are vastly underestimating the complexity of genetic operations.


    Let¡¯s talk about Gene Fusion.


    Say you want to add a gene that increases muscle density in your body. For that, you would have to replace the DNA of EVERY single cell in your body otherwise, you would die from an auto immune response where your white blood cells would mistake the cells with the altered DNA for foreign pathogens and start attacking.


    Basically, causing your own body to destroy itself.


    Could you do THAT in 2003? Hmm?


    No, you couldn¡¯t, but now you can. The only reason for that is, you guessed it, nano-photons.


    What the Gene Extractor extracts is actually the nano-photons associated with the required genes. In other words, it extracts a bit of the subject¡¯s soul.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Using special methods, this portion of the soul is stored in containers called gene ampoules.


    The Gene Fuser basically takes a gene ampoule and fuses it with the subject¡¯s soul.


    Thereby achieving the transfer of stats.


    Some Fullmetal Alchemist fan actually dubbed this as the Law of Equivalent Exchange. The terminology became so widespread that the scientific community formally accepted it.


    Now, you would expect there to be a method of cheating this law.


    Take for example the height genes. By the age of 20 everyone stops growing taller so, one would think that even if the height genes were extracted after the age of 20, the height would be retained.


    They would be wrong. The soul is much more fundamental than one realizes. The removal of that portion of the soul means that the entire individual has transformed.


    The structure of the body slowly changes until it matches the soul, even if it takes a few months to do so.


    Thus, the Law of Equivalent Exchange is always upheld.


    Aman made his way to the extractor section and drew a token with the number 10 on it. This meant that there were nine other people who had applied to have their genes extracted before him.


    Really, if there was a market, people would sell anything for quick bucks.


    He settled down to wait for his turn.


    After nearly two hours of flipping through magazines and fidgeting in his seat, Aman was finally called upon.


    He walked up to the helpdesk and submitted his token.


    Then he was escorted to the back room where he was asked to strip out of his clothes and then pass through a decontaminating room.


    As he stood there, letting jets of foam sterilize him followed by blasts of wind drying him, he remarked again how superior the facilities of this hospital were to the ones at the government gene hospitals.


    Which was to be expected, after all, this one was for the rich.


    In the government hospitals they would pay the gene donors something less than the market price and make up the difference with merit points.


    Then when someone went to buy genes then they would be placed in a queue for the available genes. This was reminiscent of the practice of ranking the ones who needed kidneys based on the urgency of their cases.


    As the supply was less than the demand, the order in which the genes were sold off was based on the merit points of the person.


    Well, selling genes wasn¡¯t the only way to get merit points but the government was basically taking a slice off the money of the donors and returning a pseudo-currency.


    Not only did they profit financially, they could shrug off the responsibility for providing shoddy service.


    What? You had to wait for six months to get your genes and you could have gained a lot if you put that in the bank instead? Your fault. You¡¯re not meritorious enough. Look at that guy, he has a million merits so he gets first pick.


    Political economy at its finest.


    So, what would you do if you had a ton of money and wanted genes NOW?


    Go to the grey market gene hospital of course.


    The hospital was a win-win situation for all the tree parties involved.


    The government was happy because they got a hefty sum as bribes from the owners to let them run it.


    The donors were happy as they got hard cash instead of some bullshit pseudo-currency.


    The guys with the gold were happy as they got to save their valuable time. Time which was much more expensive than the cost difference of the genes they got.


    As Aman came out of the sterilizer, he was handed a sterile hospital gown by the male attendant who was standing there.


    Even though it wasn¡¯t Aman¡¯s first time in the Gene Extractor, he was awed by the sight of the huge pristine white machine as always.


    If he had to compare it to something, he would choose a antique MRI machine which he had seen in a technological museum once.


    First, his Soul sensor was switched off to prevent any interference. The sudden lack of a sense organ was disorienting as always. It was like he had suddenly become blind to half the spectrum. He felt less.


    There was a bed in which he was strapped down and then the bed slid into a tunnel like aperture of the machine.


    With a smooth whine, the machine turned on and the erstwhile dark tunnel was lit up in a stark white light.


    He felt that the light was a kind of liquid that was seeping into his pores. Even though his Soul Sensor had been switched off, he had grown up for five years sensing his soul after all.


    He could faintly feel the light latch onto a portion of his soul and with a sudden sense of emptiness, it was gone and he was less than he had been.


    The machine slowly powered down and grew silent. The extraction was over.

 Chapter 7: Transient

    After the Gene Extractor powered down, the rest of the procedures went by in a flash and soon, Aman was standing in the waiting room again.


    He was a few genes lighter and his cash card was a few thousands heavier.


    He moved his body. There was no difference. He didn¡¯t expect there to be.


    The aftermath of the Gene Extractor lasted for more than a week. The effects slowly, imperceptibly crept up on the donor.


    He knew. After all, when he had his Endurance stats extracted, he hadn¡¯t even noticed until one day, while walking the distance which hadn¡¯t even made him breathe hard before made him wheeze.


    The only way to see the change immediately was through one of the gene trinity: The Gene Analyser.


    He walked over to the Gene Analyser by the corner of the waiting room and swiped his card, parting with some of his newly earned cash.


    Pressing his thumb in the appropriate depression, he felt a pricking as a sterilized disposable needle drew a little blood.


    Soon, the results were displayed upon the screen:


    Name: Aman Batra


    Strength: 5


    Agility: 4


    Endurance: 3


    Intelligence: 9


    Charisma: 1


    He sighed. His stats were shitty as always. Now they were even shittier. His agility had dropped from 7 to 4.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Oh well, he had made his peace with this turn of events before he had even stepped into the hospital.


    He remembered the fable his mother always used to tell them.


    There used to be a King who always fidgeted with a plain iron ring on his finger whenever he made a decision. He was known as a wise, enlightened ruler due to most of his decisions being successful.


    One day, his minister, curious about the origin of the ring, asked him if it was a magic item or the relic of some god which had blessed their kingdom with prosperity.


    The King showed him the ring. On it there was an inscription: ¡°It too will pass by.¡±


    He told the minister that whenever he made a decision, he reviewed this lesson so he would not be swayed by the current circumstances. That was why, even in the face of victory or in the jaws of defeat, he could remain calm and decide rationally.


    Aman had taken this fable to heart. This was just a temporary phase in his life. It too would pass by. Specially if the soul sensor in his room worked as he hoped.


    He took a shortcut through the market after leaving the hospital. His endurance stat was abysmal and he had to stop every few streets.


    He cursed the fact that there was no cars or transportation allowed within the grey market.


    After all, you couldn¡¯t expect crooks and conmen to become expert town planners, now could you?


    The stalls except the largest were mostly temporary in nature and therefore hastily erected wherever there was space.


    Driving through this mess would require godly skills. Let alone, there were a lot of rich folks who came here.


    Now if they started their one-upmanship here¡­


    Just imagine a limo doing a two-wheel drift through the gap of two closely pitched shops.


    Nope. Not happening.


    After a few wheezing halts, Aman felt depressed again.


    He fondly remembered the times when he had been the football captain renowned for his athleticism.


    When the team had won the cup, he had been carried on their shoulders, holding the cup and the crowd cheered with a variation of his name.


    ¡°The Man, The Man, The Man.¡±


    It was silly and quite cringey but he had never felt so accomplished before. Now, he never would again.


    His footballing days were over.


    Going out of the grey market, he took a public transport to his home.


    Entering through the side gate, he stealthily put his soiled clothes into the washing machine to remove the traces of the bullying. He didn''t want to worry his mother after all.


    Going back to his room, he lay down and daydreamed of a better future. Tomorrow, he would have his sensor replaced.


    Hopefully, it would be the start of his rise.

 Chapter 8: Genetic Meditation

    As Aman sat in his corner of the classroom, waiting for the teacher to come in for the first class, he suppressed a yawn.


    He had understandably had difficulty sleeping with all the plans he had for the future buzzing about in his head.


    Looking around, he found that the atmosphere of the class was different.


    If this was a usual day, there was no way the class would be so energetic this early in the morning.


    Now, they were practically buzzing with anticipation as they conversed excitedly among each other.


    Even Ashok had ignored him today, not even sparing a glance.


    It seemed that he had missed some important announcement when he had bunked classes.


    He wanted to ask someone but knew that it would be futile as everyone in the class was under the unspoken rule to ignore him.


    So, he settled down to wait.


    He didn¡¯t have to for long as Miss D¡¯Souza came in accompanied by a tall man.


    To be more accurate, a tall elf.


    Aman¡¯s eyes widened and his heart nearly stopped beating as he jumped to conclusions.


    Had the man from yesterday blabbed about him? Had that mystery organization come already?


    Was the elf here to capture him?


    Were there people currently at his home taking Preeti and his mother away?


    ¡°Class. This man here, is a genetic expert. He will be teaching you the basic method of soul meditation. I think that your physical education teacher has already told you what that is in yesterday¡¯s class. So, I hope you¡¯ll do your best to learn.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Miss D¡¯Souza¡¯s clear voice cut through the fog of his panic and Aman realised how groundless his fears were. How illogical his conjectures.


    He had left school after lunch the day before. Combined with the time taken to commute and the waiting time in the hospital, by the time he met the injured expert, it was just time for school to give over.


    There was no way the expert coming to his school could be connected to the event the day before.


    Thankfully, he wasn¡¯t the only one to react exaggeratedly when the expert entered so he wasn¡¯t conspicuous.


    The expert walked in with his back straight and looked at them down his nose disdainfully.


    His eyes were yellow and had pupils resembling those of a cat, which were reduced to vertical slits under the morning sunlight.


    It was another high-level genetic modification that had recently passed human trials. It boosted the night vision greatly by modifying the structure of the eye.


    Just like cats, the retina of those who underwent the process developed a reflective film called the tapetum just below it which reflected the light falling on it back through the retina, giving the photo-detecting cells a second chance to detect the light.


    That was why their eyes shone at night like the feline source of the gene ampoules.


    ¡°I have been tasked with guiding you in your first attempt at soul meditation. I have been told that all of you have soul sensors. Correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. Then for the past four years, since the time most of you got them, you must have been familiarizing yourself with how your soul feels. At this stage, the soul sensor should just be like your sixth sense organ. Our research has indicated that just by being aware of the soul, one strengthens it. That strengthening is enough to allow one to undergo the two genetic operations of Gene Extraction and Gene Fusion.


    ¡°Without that excess soul strength, those two operations would kill you. That is why we don¡¯t allow anyone without a soul sensor into genetic hospitals. What I am about to teach you today is an advanced technique that will allow you to enhance your soul further.


    ¡°It is the first step down the path of the genetic warrior. I will be testing all of your aptitudes today. The ones that catch my eye will have a chance to attend the National Seminar on Eugenics. Following which, you will compete against others like you from across the nation for a chance to study at the Indian Institute of Eugenics, the birthplace of some of the most splendid genetic-experts our nation has produced since the opening of the Genetic Era.


    ¡°So, give it your all.¡±

 Chapter 9: A glimpse of a soul

    Aman was excited. This might just be the alternative opportunity he had been looking for.


    The Indian Institute of Eugenics was the pinnacle of educational opportunity.


    If he was selected for the Institute, he could cut short the plans of his restoration by almost four years.


    The institute was the training ground for those who aimed at surpassing the limitations of humanity via their cultivation of their soul and their genes.


    Joining the top Engineering institute was all well and good. Getting a high paying job and saving up to restore his genes was fantastic.


    But how could that compare to the Institute that had the basic goal of helping you transcend humanity?


    They would surely ensure that he reached 10 in all his stats for that was the basic prerequisite for breaking the fetters of the human body.


    If you weren¡¯t at the peak, how would you surmount?


    Aman clenched his fist. If he was selected, the first thing he would do would be to throw away the incriminating Soul sensor into a dumpster when he got home.


    Then he wouldn¡¯t have to rack his brains about being stealthy and avoiding whatever organization was chasing the dying warrior.


    The entire section filed out onto the school playground where they were joined by the students of the other three sections of the class.


    For ease of teaching, the 200 strong student body for each class was divided into four 50-member sections. Now, everyone had been gathered so the expert could get his job done in one go.


    Jute mats that were used for practising yoga during the physical education period had been spread on the playground over the smoothened area which on ordinary days served as the hundred-meter race track for the track and field club.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Everyone mingled and quickly took their seats with their friends. Excitement was clear on their faces.


    The Indian Institute of Eugenics didn¡¯t conduct entrance exams. The only way to enter was via the recommendations of the experts sent to the schools.


    It was a pure test of talent.


    The meditation method that was used to test them didn¡¯t depend on the strength of the soul, only on the aptitude.


    Even if some junior of an influential family learnt of some meditation method in advance and strengthened his soul, it wouldn¡¯t help.


    In fact, since the soul could be damaged by starting practice too early, their aptitude might even drop.


    Also, which expert would be sent to which school was totally random so bribery was too difficult to achieve.


    Therefore, the selections were considered to be an epitome of meritocracy.


    Since Aman had missed the class yesterday, he was a little less informed on what they had to do but it was something he had read about before.


    The meditation method, like all such methods, strongly penalized any distraction. The better you could focus on the method the more effective it would be.


    Concentration had always been one of his strong suits and he was pretty confident that he could emerge from his classmates.


    Taking a deep breath to calm himself and exhaling all doubt along with the impure air, he closed his eyes, crossed his legs and began his meditation.


    Following the spoken instructions of the expert which seemed to reverberate in their very souls, he turned his mind inwards to his soul sensor.


    With its aid, he perceived his soul. It was like a shimmering nebula that occupied the interior of his body, filling every corner.


    Some parts of it were static and some parts, like the pinpricks associated with the blood cells in his vessels circulated around his body along with them.


    It was like looking at a time-lapse movie of a galaxy cluster revolving.


    Different people associated different senses to their soul sensor. As the sixth sense organ and an artificial one, the human brain had no way to process its inputs.


    Therefore, it did the next best thing, it adapted one of the five existing senses to the soul sensor.


    Usually, it was done automatically, but during the implantation process, this could also be modified and a preferred sense chosen.


    Aman like the majority of the people perceived his soul by way of his vision.


    It was a phenomenon known as soul sight.


    It meant that he would ¡®see¡¯ souls. There were variations to this too. Some saw souls as colourful auroras, some aw them as a solid mass of light while some like Aman saw his soul as a galaxy.


    Others smelt, heard, tasted or felt the soul. In other words, nano-photons took as many shapes and forms as the people who perceived them.


    This effect gave credence to the proverb, ¡°Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.¡±

 Chapter 10: Selection

    Sushil Mohanty was a RAW agent, meaning, he worked for the Indian counter-terrorism and information cell.


    With the advent of gene warriors, the terrorism and espionage scene had transformed entirely. When your enemies were actually capable of super-human feats, to prevent them you had to be more than just human.


    Therefore, RAW was one of the major recruiters of graduates of the Indian Institute of Eugenics.


    Sushil Mohanty was one such recruit.


    One of the duties of the genetic experts was to participate in the selection process of the next generation of students for their Alma mater.


    Instruments advanced enough to replace them in evaluating worthy candidates did exist but they were too expensive to mass produce. So, around this time of the year, genetic experts got to take a week off to visit schools and identify talents.


    The man closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his soul, when he opened them, the world in his line of sight had changed.


    All inanimate objects still looked the same but any living thing lit up under his soul sight in colourful auras.


    His soul sight identified nano-photon density as colours. Due to his modification of his eyes and the associated parts of his brain, he could perceive colours in a spectrum ranging from short-infrared to long-ultraviolet.


    The higher up the spectrum the colours went, the greater the nano-photon density.


    In his eyes, the grass on the ground, the ants carrying granules of food industriously back to their home, the birds in the skies, were all outlined in infrared.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    In fact, anyone without a soul sensor would have his or her soul colour in the infrared to red border while anyone who had had their souls strengthened by their awareness of it via soul sensor would have their souls shine red in Sushil¡¯s eyes.


    Taking a quick look at the four class teachers, he noticed that while three of them had bright red souls due to their long association with their sensors, Miss D¡¯Souza had a borderline orange soul.


    She had reached a greater soul density, younger than her colleagues under the same conditions. That meant that her talent was quite good. If she had gone down the path of a gene warrior, she would have done well.


    Sushil didn¡¯t feel that it was a pity. After all, whatever India might lack, it didn¡¯t lack population and therefore talented personnel.


    There were hundreds of thousands of people more talented than her and younger, therefore more suitable to be trained.


    His eyes passed over his own body which was tinged a yellowish-green and then settled on the meditating students.


    Their soul colours were a uniform red, with slightly varying brightness depending on the densities.


    But, that wasn¡¯t what he was looking for. The meditation method basically involved sensing one¡¯s soul and then imagining the soul retreating from the extremities of the body and concentrating in the heart.


    The density of the soul was basically irrelevant in this case. That could easily be increased with the consumption of some special resources.


    The main thing was one¡¯s ability to control one¡¯s soul. That was inborn and immutable. At least, until now, none of the research labs working on nano-photons had come up with an explanation for why different individuals showed different levels of ability to control the particles.


    As he watched, the souls of the students fluctuated with the colour of their soul becoming a brighter red near their hearts while the region near their extremities faded almost to infrared.


    Running his eyes over the 200 students, he picked out seven promising candidates.


    ¡°Stop! You, you, you, you, you, you and¡­¡± he hesitated for a moment, then, ¡°you.¡±


    The seven selected candidates stood out from their peers with excitement and elation on their faces while the rest devolved into depression. Some psychologically weak students even broke into tears and the teachers had to rush about and comfort their moods.


    The seventh selected candidate was precisely Aman.

 Chapter 11: An even starting line

    Out of the seven remaining candidates, Ashok and Sneha had taken up two spots. Ronnie and Rohit, though, hadn¡¯t made the cut.


    Not that Aman expected the two goons to have the attention span to properly meditate.


    They had been taken to an empty classroom by the expert while the rest of the class had been ushered back to their classrooms to continue their lessons.


    Though he highly doubted that any of them would be able to concentrate on the classes after their disappointing morning.


    Letting the seven of them seat themselves at the desks, the expert stood in front of the blackboard and began speaking.


    ¡°The seven of you are the most talented among your classmates in the art of soul manipulation. Your thoughts have a high degree of conjunction with your nano-photons and thus, you are able to direct the particles by imposing your will on them.


    ¡°You might have been told at the beginning of this test that it was perfectly fair and that there was no external factor that could boost your chances of success. Remember, nothing in this world is truly fair.


    ¡°While the strength of your soul does not affect the test in any way, thereby eliminating most known methods of enhancement, there is one factor that might make a difference. Any of you want to try and guess what that might be? After all, talent isn¡¯t enough, at the Indian Institute of Eugenics we want people capable of using their talent. People capable of thinking independently.¡±


    There was a short silence for a moment as the seven of them began thinking of what factors might skew the chances of selection in their favour. Aman had already analysed this problem the moment the exercise had been set and he had his answer ready. But, he hesitated when he remembered the look on the face of the expert when he had noticed him and his slight pause before selecting him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    His intuition told him to maintain his silence and not draw more attention to himself.


    ¡°The soul sensors.¡± A clear female voice rang out while he was struggling to decide, taking the choice out of his hands. It was Sneha.


    The expert nodded. ¡°Good. The difference of your soul sensors is what is skewing the results of my judgement.¡± Walking over to the blackboard and taking up a piece of chalk from the box present in a niche in the wall, he began to explain.


    ¡°The soul sensor consists of two parts. One part amplifies your brainwaves, that is more or less consistent across the models as our microchip tech has reached a plateau and unless we figure out something radical, we won¡¯t be able to increase the amplification any more.


    ¡°The other part is the core of the tech and the variations in it are what separate each model¡¯s performance and price. Nano-photons are the smallest known particles in the world and ironically, the only things that can affect them apart from biomagnetism is the heaviest of atoms.


    ¡°In chemistry, a synthetic element is a chemical element that does not occur naturally on Earth, and can only be created artificially. So far, 24 synthetic elements have been created (those with atomic numbers 95¨C118). All are unstable, requiring the latest of technologies to maintain their stability.


    ¡°They have the ability to condense the nano-photons and therefore allow the amplified brainwaves to detect them. That is how we detect the soul using the soul sensors.


    ¡°The higher the atomic number of the element at the core, the harder it is to produce and stabilize it and the more expensive the sensor. Correspondingly, the better the performance.¡±


    He finished writing everything down on the board as bullet points. We had all studied this before when we had studied the periodic table but he was a good teacher and the refresher was welcome.


    Putting the chalk down, he turned back to us. ¡°So, this time, I will test you by suppressing your soul sensor with my soul pressure and you will perform the exercise again. This time, you will have an even starting line and out of the seven of you, I will only select two as that is the quota allotted to your school based on the performance of the previous students we chose from here at the Indian Institute of Eugenics.¡±

 Chapter 12: A taste of success

    Aman experienced the soul pressure of a genetic expert for the second time in his life.


    This time, with time to prepare, he was calm enough to try and savour the experience and contrast it with the previous one.


    It was weaker. One of the top experts in India and that man in the alley had been stronger.


    Then what of the enemy that had brought him to his knees?


    Aman affirmed his decision to stay away from the Sensor yet again.


    For that he had to focus.


    The nano-photon galaxy in his body seemed to turn sluggish under the oppression of the external soul pressure.


    Sushil¡¯s eyes flashed as the first among the students to recover began to try and concentrate his soul into his heart.


    He couldn¡¯t really say that he was surprised seeing that he was the one who performed the best in the trials.


    One by one the others began to recover from the shock and gather their wits enough to command their nano-photons.


    The competition was on.


    Aman clenched his teeth and closed his eyes tightly as he concentrated totally inwards.


    The soul galaxy seemed to be like a recalcitrant beast, forever trying to slip out of his control and slip back into its natural mode of operation.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    It was like climbing up a greased pole.


    Two metres up only to slip a metre down again.


    He kept having a feeling that he could do better but whenever he got into the groove, his soul would slip out of his control and try to diffuse back until he hastily caught it and halted its motion.


    But he wanted, no NEEDED to win.


    So, he focused, he concentrated the hardest he had ever before.


    And it paid.


    Like a beast that had been finally leashed, his soul did his bidding and congealed within his heart.


    In his soul sight, his heart was a bright nebulous mass of energy while tendrils of it circulated around his body through his arteries and veins.


    Sweating profusely from the combined pressure of resisting the soul oppression and keeping his soul congealed in his heart, he opened his eyes and looked at the expert with hope in his gaze.


    Sushil¡¯s eyes flashed with complex emotions but he nodded at him.


    Aman relaxed and like a compressed spring that had obtained release, his soul snapped back to its baseline.


    Waves of exhaustion washed over him and he collapsed backwards on the back of the chair he was sitting in.


    Turning his head slightly to look at the other six, he saw that the others were still sitting there with closed eyes and clenched teeth.


    Euphoria welled up within him. He was first.


    Looking at Ashok and Sneha who were still struggling, his lips curved upwards into a sneer.


    Mud could bury a gem. Not abrade away its shine.


    A clay figurine could be painted. One rain-shower and the paint would wash off.


    Sneha¡¯s eyes snapped open just as he was looking at her.


    Incomprehension, followed by realization and then shock. The emotions that passed through her eyes afterwards were too complex for him to read but Aman was well satisfied.


    She would be the second, would she? Oh well, she had always been talented if shallow.


    He would decide how to deal with her later. Now, he just wanted to see Ashok¡¯s face when he woke to his new reality.


    He had to wait a bit more for his satisfaction as Ashok was the fourth to awake after a wiry boy with glasses from another class.


    The expression on his face was all Aman had hoped it would be.

 Chapter 13: The beginning of the Road

    Aman sat across the desk from the principal of his school.


    ¡°So, Mr. Batra, you weren¡¯t selected for the Indian Institute of Eugenics.¡±


    ¡°No. No sir, I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me why?¡±


    ¡°The selector said that my soul was damaged by my frequent gene extractions, making my control jerky.¡±


    ¡°Yes? How unfortunate.¡±


    From the face of the principal, Aman couldn¡¯t find any trace that he found the situation unfortunate.


    Spinning around in his swivel chair so that he faced away from Aman, the principal continued, his bald head shining under the sunlight that streamed through the window of his office.


    ¡°Tell me Mr. Batra, how is your sister these days?¡±


    Aman had an inkling where this conversation was going. He grit his teeth and replied, ¡°She is out of danger and is now convalescing at home.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Good to hear.¡± Suddenly spinning his chair around and putting his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his interlaced fingers, the principal looked at him through narrowed eyes.


    ¡°Are you aware that crowdfunding is very popular nowadays? And there are numerous cancer foundations that can be of financial help to you.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, we looked into all of those means. Their help took the edge off our situation. The scholarship from the school was especially helpful.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Yes? Then it is fortunate that your sister has recovered. We will regrettably have to stop your scholarship.¡±


    Even though he knew this was coming, it was still a shock to him.


    ¡°But sir¡­¡±


    He stopped me with a gesture and got up from his chair and began pacing in the area behind his desk.


    ¡°You have to understand Mr Batra that the current you and the person we decided to sponsor are essentially different people. I have to answer to the board of directors every time I decide to continue your stipend.¡±


    ¡°Then why did the answer change this time? Right after my rejection by the Indian Institute of Eugenics? Were you holding out till you were sure my use value was zero?¡±


    ¡°Your words, not mine, Mr. Batra. Now, I am a busy man. Please show yourself out.¡± His eyes went to the schoolbag on Aman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And have a good day.¡±


    Aman was fuming as he stomped out of the school. Ashok hadn¡¯t been selected as well and he wasn¡¯t pleased to have Aman exceed him even if he wasn¡¯t selected finally.


    Add being publicly dumped by Sneha who had been selected and Ashok was in a foul mood. And raring to take it out on Aman.


    So, when the principal had called him to his office, he had come with his bag. He would have bunked the rest of the classes anyway. Not that he was in any mood for studies.


    The school had always been this materialistic.


    The first time Ashok had hit him, he had complained to the authorities and threatened police involvement. The school had immediately stepped in to mediate.


    They didn¡¯t want their reputation ruined by a police case after all.


    Ashok had been warned and after that he hadn¡¯t done the actually excessive parts of the bullying. He had left that up to Ronnie and Rohit.


    Those two had no fear of expulsion. In fact, they probably welcomed it, what with their 3 and 4 intelligence stats and the conditions Ashok must have proposed to them. His father had a leather business and more guards/goons were always welcome.


    He clenched his fist. It seemed that the sensor was his only hope.


    Aman pulled out his phone and switched it on. He had switched it off during the selections.


    Just as it turned on, it began to vibrate as nearly fifty missed calls and just as many messages popped up.


    It was his mother.


    Reading one, his eyes widened. Preeti had collapsed.

 Chapter 14: Is this selfish?

    Clambering down from the cab, Aman rushed towards the reception of the Central Government hospital.


    Swiping his student card in the information register, he quickly found the ward number where his sister was currently admitted.


    Swiftly making a docket and getting his visitor¡¯s token, he made his way to the elevators.


    Noticing the crowd waiting there, he took the stairs instead, taking two at a time in his haste.


    He was wheezing by the time he made his way to the ward and saw his mother waiting anxiously outside the ICU.


    ¡°Ma, what happened?¡± he gasped out.


    She wrung her hands and replied, ¡°Everything was fine until just an hour after you left for school. She was doing her physio and then she suddenly collapsed. I immediately called the ambulance.


    ¡°Thank god you bought that sensor for her birthday, it might just have saved her life. The bureaucracy here is really horrible. Who knows how long we would have had to wait for them to assign one out of their stock for us.¡±


    His brain was blank.


    ¡°Eh? What sensor?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb son, the sensor hidden under the clothing in your cupboard of course. I found it this morning while arranging your room.¡±


    He suddenly felt light headed. Various thoughts were struggling for supremacy in his mind and in the process, all of them were having a free-for-all at the bottom of his mind and nothing was coming up top.


    He couldn¡¯t think.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    After a long while, he recovered and asked urgently. ¡°Wait! Didn¡¯t the doctors question how you got such an advanced sensor?¡±


    His mother frowned. ¡°Advanced? What are you talking about? It is the same level as your model. While it was on the expensive side four years ago, now, the prices have dropped significantly. They did say something about the internal amplifier structure being slightly different but that varies from manufacturer to manufacturer. They said that there wouldn¡¯t be any problem.


    ¡°Also, son, did you get it second hand? It had signs of usage.¡± She smoothed back his hair with a guilty expression on her face. ¡°You went to the grey market again didn¡¯t you? I¡¯m sorry for being so useless.¡±


    Ordinarily, Aman would refute her and assure her that she was doing her best but today, he was too distracted. He replied perfunctorily as various thoughts swirled around in his mind.


    He had expected the model of the sensor to be advanced as an advanced expert was using it. But, if the specialness lay somewhere else and that offset the insufficiency of the model itself? The expert had probably been using it for several years, so it couldn¡¯t have been the latest model. That was just his inertia of thought.


    He had been worried about the high-tech model exposing him to the organization. That wasn¡¯t the case.


    Ordinarily, he would have gone through many twists and turns to try and get the operation done covertly¡­ but thinking now, he wasn¡¯t the match of those people.


    In fact, his shifty actions would more than likely give him away.


    Thankfully, this accident had prevented that. But¡­ but, the sensor was now implanted in Preeti.


    His chance at reversing his fortunes quickly, now gone.


    He would have to go through with his initial, long-term plan.


    In his mind, he wanted to give an excuse that he was worried about his sister getting involved in the mess but if he was honest with himself¡­ for the first time in his life, he resented his sister.


    He resented her for ruining his past year, he resented her for ruining his present chance at the Indian Institute of Eugenics and he resented her for now threatening to ruin his future prospects.


    He didn''t want to give her anything anymore.


    So, he did something he would feel guilty for, for the rest of his life.


    He walked up to the nurse who was preparing to enter the operation theatre and said. ¡°The model you are using is second hand and unreliable. Mine has been working without a glitch for four years straight. I think that my sister can¡¯t afford to have her sensor malfunction, please let her use mine. I can use the other one.¡±

 Chapter 15: The GENE Project

    Aman woke to a world of white.


    White bed, white ceiling, white curtains cordoning him off from the rest of the world and a strong smell of antiseptic.


    He was at the hospital; the surgery was over.


    He had achieved his wishes. The mystery sensor was now installed in his body.


    Reaching back with his hand, he felt the back of his neck where his head met his spine. There, under the bandages, he could feel a slight metallic protrusion. That was the external indication of his soul sensor.


    Now, for the moment of truth.


    He closed his eyes and focused on his soul. In the darkness of his eyelids, tiny pinpricks of light began to appear as his soul sight slowly began to activate as his body adjusted to the new sensor.


    Just as the entire galaxy of his soul became visible, a mechanical voice resounded in his mind.


    [Activate the GENE Project?]


    [Yes] [No]


    Startled, his eyes flew open as he looked around in surprise. There was nobody there in the curtained off confines of his bed and the only sounds were the soft beeping of the monitoring instruments of the different patients in the ward.


    [Activate the GENE Project?]


    [Yes] [No]


    Once again, the voice resounded in his mind and he was sure that there was no one else along with him. Then the only source could be¡­


    [Activate the GENE Project?]The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    [Yes] [No]


    The soul sensor. His breath sped up along with his heartbeat as excitement coursed through him. This was what he had been hoping for. Licking his dry lips, he hoarsely mumbled: ¡°Yes.¡±


    [Activation confirmed.]


    Then he felt like his thoughts slowed down tenfold. His brain felt like it was made of cotton and exhaustion crashed down upon him in waves.


    His world faded to black.


    ***


    When he woke again, he was in the same place.


    The same bed, the same ceiling, the same curtains, the same antiseptic smell. Even the wall clock was the same, telling him that only half an hour had passed.


    [Congratulations. The host is now a participant in the GENE Project. Let us walk down the Path to Perfection together.]


    The voice reappeared and this time, it sounded a lot less mechanical and seemed to possess some individuality.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Aman.


    [I am alternate personality generated within your mind when you confirmed the activation of the GENE Project. You can basically think of me as the AI of the soul sensor. Also, you can just think of your queries, I can read your mind.]


    ¡°What! Alternate personality! Mind reading!¡±


    [Host! Do not panic. I shall answer all questions and have no ill intentions towards you. Please think your questions, not shout them.]


    Aman took a deep breath, then another before he calmed down slightly. Seeing that no one had come running, his little outburst had gone largely unnoticed.


    He began to think of all his questions, mentally directing them at the back of his head where the soul sensor was. Although for all he knew, the core of the new personality was occupying his entire brain.


    [I shall answer your questions in order of relevance. Firstly, what is the GENE Project?]


    [The GENE Project was the attempt to create a nano-photon based biological computer. The soul sensor that you are now in possession of is the only successful creation. As far I know, I am unique.]


    [Secondly, how does the GENE Project work and what is up with the alternate personality?]


    [Instead of using semiconductor chips and electrical circuit elements as my processor, I am capable of utilizing the host¡¯s brain instead. Therefore, I am sharing your brain and as soon as I was created, I gained my own sentience. That is why I referred to myself as an alternate personality. In effect, I am a symbiote. Remove me from your body, and I will perish.]


    [New question detected¡­ moving question up priority order.]


    [Are you a body-snatcher?]


    [I do not have access to the areas of your brain that are in charge of physical processes. Only the memory, sensory and the processing units. So, I can feel what you do, access your memories and use your brain to process my thoughts but I cannot move your body or feel emotion. Also, my core directive is to improve the body of my host to the pinnacle.]

 Chapter 16: The GENE Project [2]

    [Host, there is bad news and there is good news.]


    [The bad news is that your soul is quite damaged due to your frequent trade of genes. It will be quite difficult to repair your soul. Until then, your control over your soul will be quite jerky.]


    [The good news is that what you have done isn¡¯t totally a losing proposition. It is actually a really good investment. First of all, nano-photons that are obtained from a single individual demonstrate the phenomenon of entanglement. Meaning that even when they are separated by a large distance, they are still connected to each other.]


    [Since you sold your genes at the grey market and only rich and influential people buy from there, there are now several influential people with your genes in them.


    You can think of them as banks. As long as they cultivate their soul, your portion of the soul in them will also grow and if you meet them later, I can help you extract that portion of the soul from them. Of course, that will require several harsh conditions like a high soul strength and physical contact with the target.


    At a suitable level difference between your soul strengths, you can even manipulate their thoughts to a certain extent. Depending on how much of your genes they have, the control over them will be even stronger. So, you can use them as resources to reach the pinnacle.]


    Although Aman knew how morally dubious this was, he couldn¡¯t help but be excited about this turn of events. His misery could now be turned into his strength.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    He whispered another question aloud. ¡°How do you know all of this? Do you have a memory unit within you and what kinds of information do you have?¡±


    [Yes. I do have a memory unit but it is only 1TB in size due to space constraints. I mainly use your brain for storage. I do not have full access to my internal memory yet since the data is compressed using nano-photon technology. Thus, to access the higher levels of data, I would need you to have the corresponding soul strength.]


    [What is mainly there is the data required for my initialization and my core program. Other than that, what I can access is some basic information about my functions and the GENE Project. I also have some of the memories I accumulated from my previous masters, though most of that is compressed using high density nano-photons, so I don¡¯t have access to it yet.]


    ¡°If you are sharing my brain with me, why can you hear my thoughts but I can¡¯t for you?¡±


    [You can. But I think in binary so you are just treating it like white noise. If you want, I can switch to thinking in your mother tongue.]


    ¡°Ok.¡±


    Suddenly, Aman was assaulted by a deluge of thoughts. There were so many noises in his head and he couldn¡¯t make anything out, only catching highly technical snippets which were gone much faster than he could process.


    ¡°Stop!¡± groaned Aman as he clutched his head in pain.


    The noises faded back into a background drone.


    ¡°Why was that so incomprehensible!?¡±


    [A human mind can multi task only three things at once. I can multi thread 18. So, you were unable to follow my processes.]


    Aman felt a wave of exhaustion. He felt dizzy.


    [Host. It is suggested that you supplement your energy with glucose or an energy bar. My over capacity operation of your brain has burnt a lot of energy. If you don¡¯t recover it soon, you will collapse. I will minimize my operations till you do.]


    The voice suddenly cut off.


    Aman rang the calling bell for the nurse to ask about Preeti¡¯s situation and see if he couldn¡¯t get some energy bars or glucose supplements.

 Chapter 17: The Pledge

    Aman ravenously devoured the energy bars brought to him by the nurse and washed it down with the glucose solution they had provided.


    Only stopping when his stomach felt bloated, he leant back against the headboard of the bed after propping his pillows against it.


    Closing his eyes, he rested while keeping his mind blank. After all the abuse, his poor brain needed some rest.


    After fifteen minutes, he felt a lot better and the dizziness had subsided.


    The curtains around his bed were drawn back and the doctor in charge of him arrived with a nurse with a clipboard following on his heels.


    ¡°How are you feeling now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just a bit exhausted.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. It was lucky that we didn¡¯t install this sensor in your sister. Judging from the upshot in your brainwave intensity and brain activity, this sensor has a radical amplifier. Even you with four years of experience with sensors to let your soul acclimatize were reduced to this condition. It wouldn¡¯t have gone well for her. Not in her condition.¡±


    Aman didn¡¯t bother to correct him that it wasn¡¯t exactly the fault of the amplifier and that it was much more ¡®radical¡¯ than the man could ever imagine.


    ¡°How is she now?¡±


    The doctor smiled reassuringly, ¡°She is fine. The operation was a total success and the integration with the soul sensor was extremely smooth. In fact, she woke up not a few minutes ago. Your mother is currently with her. If you want, you can visit her but I would like it if you stayed overnight, the both of you, so I can monitor you. I will discharge you tomorrow if everything is fine.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Then his tone grew solemn.


    ¡°But, I should remind you of something. For the initial period of soul sensor integration, the mood of the user is extremely influential to the state of their body. Later, after a couple of months, the body adapts to the soul sensor and the interaction with it becomes subconscious. That is the time that the body¡¯s instincts play a greater role than things like the mood and the state of mind.¡±


    He paused and looked me in the eye.


    ¡°In short, the next two months are a watershed period. Just like the introduction of the soul sensor can help heal her faster, if she has a negative state of mind, it can aggravate her situation. So, keep her happy and positive in this period as far as possible.¡±


    Aman nodded seriously. ¡°Thank you doctor, I will.¡±


    As he passed by the man to visit, Preeti, he patted his shoulder. ¡°Boy, you have a good heart.¡±


    ¡­


    Pausing before Preeti¡¯s ward, Aman hesitated for a moment as he thought of how he had taken her chance from her. Then he quashed that thought. What had happened had happened. It wouldn''t change and he had seriously given her enough already.


    When he entered, Preeti was sitting on her bed, propped up by several pillows and his mother was sitting on a chair by the bedside, holding her hand and smiling through her tears.


    Seeing him come in, Preeti¡¯s expression changed to one of helplessness before she softly addresses their mother. ¡°Ma, can I talk to brother alone?¡±


    She nodded and left the two of them in the ward while wiping her eyes and sniffling.


    The two siblings remained silent as they looked at each other.


    ¡°Brother, did you sell your genes again?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°The soul sensor?¡±


    ¡°Mine.¡±


    She nodded as if deciding something. She looked him straight in the eye.


    ¡°The doctors said I needed a conservative estimate of two years to convalesce fully. Give me one ¨C no one and a half ¨C and I¡¯ll pay you back in full. I won''t let you suffer for me any more than necessary.¡±


    Looking at the determined expression on that young and immature face, Aman felt a warmth from the core of his being.


    In that moment, he pledged: he would make her the happiest girl in the world.

 Chapter 18: Three Ancient Civilizations

    Aman sat cross legged on his bed in his room as he conversed with the AI in his head.


    He and his sister had been discharged that morning after extensive tests had declared them fit.


    It was already noon by the time they went out of the hospital so he had missed another day of school.


    Not that he was particularly sorry about that with Ashok lying in wait for him there.


    Also, today was a Friday so the next two days school was off so he was hoping the boy would cooldown over the weekend and not do anything too excessive on Monday.


    Also, the free weekend gave him time to talk and plan with the AI and set his future course.


    [So, what do you want to know?]


    ¡°Well, you said you would help me reach the pinnacle. What exactly did you mean by that?¡±


    [For this, I need to begin with an explanation of soul cultivation.]


    Aman listened carefully while he wondered at how much more human the voice in his head had become in the short time it was active. It now sounded exactly like his instead of the mechanical voice it had first used and its sentences and word choices were closing up more and more with his.


    It was almost like he was just talking to himself in his head.


    [Soul cultivation as you probably guessed is the process of strengthening the soul. At first, when the ability of souls to affect the body was discovered, many tests were conducted. It was realized that the density of nano-photons in the soul was proportional to the degree to which the body could be affected by the mind.]Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    [At first it was thought that soul density was inborn but that was soon disproved with the advent of soul sensors as introduction of that caused soul growth. So, scientists began searching for ways to cause souls to grow denser.]


    [The breakthrough was obtained when a scientist in the US who was a yoga enthusiast began to test the claim that yoga improved the soul. What the original statement referred to was the metaphysical concept of souls ¨C the aatma. But, the scientist took it literally and tested his soul density every day after practising yoga for two hours.]


    [There was a measurable increase.]


    [Hence, there was a boom in the investigation of all sorts of metaphysical processes like Reiki, Yoga, the ancient martial arts of China, the Buddhist silent sacrifices with science. In the end what was discovered was that only three types of things could affect the soul density.]


    [The three methods of soul cultivation were therefore discovered¡­ rather rediscovered.]


    ¡°Rediscovered?¡± asked Aman curiously.


    [Yes. They already existed and were widely practiced in the three Great Ancient Civiliztions.]


    ¡°The three ancient civilizations? You mean the Mesopotamian Civilization, the Indus Valley Civilization and the Ancient Chinese Civilization?¡±


    [Correct.]


    [The Indus Valley Civilization practiced Yogic Cultivation.]


    [The Mesopotamian Civilization practiced the Path of Heavenly Communion.]


    [The Ancient Chinese Civilization practiced the Path of Qi Cultivation.]


    [These three were the only things found effective in increasing the soul density.]


    ¡°Wait! Weren¡¯t all the archaeological sites already studied thoroughly by the late 1900s? Why didn¡¯t we know of these things before? And before that how did they cultivate without soul sensors?¡±


    [The ancient cultivators obviously had their methods related with the nano-photons and only after we made nano-photon detecting instruments were we able to find out these things. And without advanced technology, they were a lot more connected to nature and their own bodies and so they paid great attention to various exercises and meditation. Even we can connect with the soul unaided and involuntarily as shown by the placebo effect. They could do so voluntarily after a lot of practice. Also, the people talented enough to touch the soul were very rare and those who could exceed the bounds of humanity were able to be counted on the fingers of a hand.]


    [They were called Heroes. For example, in the Mesopotamian Civilization we have the legend of Gilgamesh. He was probably a soul cultivator. The legends of Gods and Demons all probably have some truth to them. That is being studied now under a new field known as Mythical Science.]

 Chapter 19: The Seven Chakras

    ¡°What exactly does this soul cultivation business entail?¡± asked Aman after he finished processing the information heaped on him by the AI.


    [Just like the awareness of your soul via soul sensor makes your soul stronger, manipulating it does too. And it is more effective.]


    ¡°Basically, if I repeat the exercise the selector had us do during the test for entrance to the Indian Institute of Eugenics, then my soul will grow?¡±


    [In theory, yes. But it has been found that manipulating the soul in various specific ways, more accurately, circulating it through or condensing it in seven particular points on the human body exponentially increases the efficiency of soul growth.]


    ¡°Seven points? Wait! You can¡¯t mean¡­¡±


    [Exactly. The seven chakras.]


    Here, for those who have never contacted yoga in any form, some context is required.


    The seven chakras are from bottom to top:


    Root chakra ¡ª base of the spine


    Sacral chakra ¡ª just below the navel and between the kidneys.


    Solar plexus chakra ¡ª stomach area.


    Heart chakra ¡ª centre of the chest.


    Throat chakra ¡ª base of the throat.


    Third Eye chakra ¡ª forehead, just above area between the eyes.


    Crown chakra ¡ª top of the head.


    The chakras form the basis for most yogic practices as well as many Buddhist meditative exercises as Buddhism originated from India.


    Aman had studied yoga along with the rest of his class during the physical education classes. He had thought that they were just there for cultural heritage preservation. Now, he was not so sure.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He felt that the government had soul cultivation in mind when they had set the curriculum.


    The AI continued, [In the case of Ancient Chinese Civilization soul cultivation, the Sacral chakra, the Heart chakra and the Third eye chakra are only used. Although, they are called the Lower dantian, the middle dantian and the upper dantian respectively.]


    [In the case of the Mesopotamian Civilization soul cultivation, only the Crown chakra is used. They call it the Heavenly cord as they believe that all humans are connected to mother nature via a spiritual umbilical cord. That is why their technique is called Heavenly connection technique.]


    ¡°Then? Then yoga should be the cultivation of all seven of the chakras equally. Right?¡±


    [Right.]


    ¡°So, as far as I can guess, this soul cultivation should be the key to getting stronger and exceeding the limits of humanity. So, which type is the best for me?¡±


    [Yoga.]


    ¡°Why?¡±


    [I will go into details about the different methods of cultivation later, but you should just know that you cannot simultaneously cultivate the Ancient Chinese Civilization method and the Mesopotamian Civilization method.]


    [More accurately, you cannot simultaneously cultivate the Heaven chakra and the upper dantian to the degree required by the respective techniques. So, your only choice is to practice yoga which cultivates all chakras equally.]


    Aman frowned. ¡°The way you put it, does it mean that I HAVE to cultivate both of those two chakras for some reason?¡±


    [Yes. You need the Heaven chakra for you to connect to your genes that you have sold off. And, you have actually already started cultivating your upper dantian.]


    Aman was confused. ¡°When?¡±


    [When I was created. The final goal of the Ancient Chinese Cultivators for cultivating the upper dantian was to create a nascent divinity, in other words a second personality that would be able to manage their subconscious mental resources and help them cultivate automatically. In short, an AI.]


    ¡°Like you!¡± exclaimed Aman.


    [Like me.] agreed the Ai.


    [Congratulations another me. We have cultivated the upper dantian to its completion.]


    ¡°¡¯Another me¡¯? What do you mean? Actually, now that I think about it, you have been behaving quite differently since you switched yourself off to conserve energy.¡±


    [My personality finally formed in that time. I was parsing through your memories and building myself up off them. I consider you, me. I consider me, you. We are one and the same. Two minds in one body.]


    Aman was silent for a time before he spoke. ¡°Do you have a name in mind for yourself then? Or, do you want me to name you?¡±


    [Having you name me would mean that your social position is higher than mine. So, no. No thank you. I have decided upon my own name. Henceforth I shall be called Nama.]


    ¡°The reverse of my name? Really? You couldn''t come up with anything better?¡± scoffed Aman.


    [Nama means ¡®name¡¯ in Sanskrit, the language of the first yogis. Seeing that you are going to be practicing yoga and my main job will be assisting you, I think the name is quite appropriate. Let alone, I consider myself another version of you. The flip side of a coin if you will. So, having a name that is the obverse of yours is quite natural in my opinion.]

 Bonus Chapter: Enslave Dao

    The Mesopotamian Civilization was a slave society.


    Their society was hierarchically distinct in nature and the ceiling for each class was less of a glass one and more of one made out of reinforced concrete.


    The class you were born in was the class you died in.


    It was a place where the few ruled the many and resources were centralized in the hands of the aristocratic class.


    But, slavery is an extremely wasteful form of governance, you say?


    It is. Just take the pre-liberation American situation for example.


    Boatloads of underfed and abused Africans shifted onto American soil only to be exploited as unpaid plantation labour.


    Many died on the way and many more were rendered unserviceable by the journey.


    Leaving the moral qualms aside, even the wasteful squandering of human resources was enough to speak against such forms of governance.


    Then, there was the losses involved in suppressing slave rebellions, lack of motivation among slaves.


    Most serious of all, lowered birth rates for slaves. After all, who wanted their child to be born in slavery and even if they did, the harsh living conditions meant that few survived to adulthood.


    Thus, whenever more workforce was needed, more had to be shipped from the colonies in various parts of the world.


    Wasteful. Inefficient in the extreme.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    That was one of the major reasons why slavery failed. For unlike cattle, the human desire for freedom was a fire that could not be extinguished.


    But¡­ what if the slaves were made willing?


    The Pyramids.


    They are the inconceivable result of slave labour. Miracles performed by the bare hands of subjugated men.


    The Mesopotamian Civilization¡¯s forms of soul cultivation were shared by their neighbours such as the Assyrians and the Ancient Egyptians and from them we can gauge its effect and power.


    Slabs of sandstone weighing tons were dragged from all corners of the desert, merely to consecrate the remains of their dead rulers.


    The tombs of the Pharaohs were one of the favourites sites for exploration by archaeologists. Yet, it was only after soul cultivation was popularized in the form of Yoga and qi cultivation that one of the archaeologists who had an advanced level of soul cultivation thought of using his soul sight on the interior walls of the Pyramid of Khufu.


    It was then that he realized that the hieroglyphics etched into the stone were mere camouflage for the true texts engraved into the walls.


    Written by embedding a special type of scarab beetle, that could hibernate for thousands of years by forcing themselves into a condition of stasis in unfavourable conditions, into the stones, the hidden text shone under his soul sight as the nano-photons in the beetles glowed.


    The text spoke of the secrets of the success of Mesopotamian and Egyptian slave societies.


    The Pharaohs enslaved their ministers by granting a bit of their souls to them. In return, they took more of their minister¡¯s souls back than they took, thereby advancing their cultivation and reducing the ministers.


    A similar process was followed by the ministers for their subordinates, and this process continued down the chain of command.


    In the end, not only were the higher classes able to influence the thoughts of the members of the lower classes, they were stronger than the lower classes while the lower classes were weakened.


    This led to a distinct hierarchy among the classes which was extremely difficult if not impossible to surpass.


    Combined with indoctrination from childhood and the inculcation of the belief that the Pharaoh was the representative of god on earth, the society ran like a smoothly oiled machine.


    A machine where the purpose of each part was to serve the parts higher in the command chain.


    This was the cultivation philosophy of the Mesopotamian Civilization.


    The Path of heavenly communion.


    Or rather, the path of enslavement.

 Chapter 20: Training

    Aman took a sterilized injection needle that he had bought from a pharmacy and pricked the pad of his thumb with it.


    Squeezing out a drop of blood, he let it fall into the glass he had in front of him.


    There, several ants which he had collected from the garden were moving around at the bottom of the glass.


    He waited for some time until some of the ants began investigating the drop of blood and some of them ingested a bit.


    Then, he closed his eyes and asked Nama, ¡°What now?¡±


    [Now, have to channel your soul into your crown chakra as much as possible, just like you did with your heart during the test to enter IIE.]


    Aman closed his eyes and focused upon his soul galaxy, trying his best to force the nano-photons to obey his will.


    The response was extremely jerky and whenever he succeeded, he would soon lose control and the particles would slip back.


    [Here, let me help.]


    Suddenly, Aman felt that his five senses were cut off. All the sounds that he had been hearing, the feel of his clothes against his body, even the sensation of his weight¡­ everything was gone.


    He was just a disembodied soul floating in a jet-black void with the only thing present being the galaxy of his soul.


    Manipulating the soul became a lot easier.


    Soon, he managed to push most of the errant soul to the crown of his head and suddenly, the field of his soul sight expanded.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    He noticed a tiny glittering cluster of pinpricks of light near his soul galaxy.


    It was his drop of blood¡­ more accurately, the nano-photons associated with the cells in that drop of blood.


    [Focus on the nano-photons which have been ingested by the ants and try to use that as a medium to connect with their souls.]


    Following Nama¡¯s instructions, he focused on the pinpricks of light which were moving about.


    Concentrating as hard as he could, he managed to focus on a single ant but before he could do anything more, there was a sudden turbulence in his soul and he lost control of it.


    Just like a stretched rubber band, the soul sprang back to its original shape violently and produced a strong backlash.


    Aman¡¯s eyes sprang open and all his senses returned as he clutched his head and moaned as spikes of pain passed through his brain.


    Feebly crawling on his bed, he snatched an energy bar from the pile of discarded wrappers he had on his bedside table.


    Chewing on the bar, he recalled his experience in training his soul since the morning.


    He had been meditating to try and improve his control of his soul since morning before finally trying to connect to and control the ants with his soul.


    But it had been all uphill.


    Not only was his soul damaged in its intensity, due to the overuse of the Gene Extractor, his control over his soul had dropped to an all-time low.


    He sighed. There was no shortcut to curing his soul.


    He would have to keep on cultivating until the flaws were too minor to matter.


    Just like if you drew a cross with a marker on a tennis ball and a similarly sized cross on the surface of the earth, compared to the overall size of the earth the cross would be insignificant but on the tennis ball, the mark would be very eye-catching.


    With the help on Nama, his cultivation progress was extremely shocking.


    After all, a nascent divinity was something only late stage cultivators of the qi cultivation path were supposed to have while he had it at the beginning itself.


    The effects were naturally splendid.


    According to Nama¡¯s estimate, he could reach the second stage of soul cultivation from the first in around two months at the current pace which was about three times the speed of a moderately talented human with the best soul sensor.


    And the pace would have been even faster if his soul wasn¡¯t damaged.

 Chapter 21: The Ant Legion

    The reason Aman had chosen ants as his familiar was simple.


    They were already colonial creatures. They already had a strictly hierarchical society with distinct class division.


    As such, they along with bees were the perfect organisms to begin learning the art of heavenly communion with.


    And compared to bees, ants were a lot easier to find and introducing nano-photons within them was as simple as feeding them a bit of blood.


    Try feeding bees blood and see how well you do.


    In fact, Aman had found an anthill in one corner of the lawn in front of their house, hidden beneath the unkempt weeds.


    So, he had a readymade source for his experimental material.


    The act of using familiars has been a large part of fantasy literature whether eastern or western.


    In western fantasy, mages, wizards and witches were said to have familiars like cats, toads, owls and rats.


    There was a special class of mages known as druids whose powers solely dealt with communicating and controlling wild animals.


    In eastern fantasy, there are mentions of contracted beasts and guardian beasts.


    In fact, the method of binding either familiars or contracted beasts more often than not involved some sort of blood ritual, much like the one Aman had performed.


    Who knows how much truth is hidden in these myths and fantasies?


    That is what a large number of historians and mythical scientists are trying to uncover.


    After an entire day of trial and error, he had finally managed to connect with one ant.


    Right now, it was the morning of the next day, Sunday.


    He had gotten up uncharacteristically early and trudged to the roof of their house.


    Who needed an alarm when they had an AI in their head.


    Yawning grumpily, he walked out onto the rooftop, watching the horizon obscured by the concrete jungle that was the cityscape.


    Their house was only two stories tall and very little of the sky could be seen through the blockade of the towering skyscrapers that surrounded them.


    There was still time for dawn to arrive and the sky was coloured a light purple by the sunlight that leaked from the horizon.


    Taking a deep breath, Aman joined his palms in salutation in front of his chest and stood straight with feet shoulder width apart, facing the east.


    Closing his eyes and activating his soul sight, he noticed his soul flowing languorously throughout his body.


    In this pose, it seemed to stagnate a bit at the base of his spine before flowing on.


    That was the position of his root chakra.


    Concentrating, he made the speed of the soul¡¯s flow faster and faster until his soul began to automatically form a swirling vortex around his root chakra, growing denser the faster he made his soul flow.


    He held the pose until the first rays of the rising sun leaked through the maze of buildings and fell on his face, tinting it a bright red.


    Raising his joined palms above his head, he bent back, causing the flow of his soul to change.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    This time, the vortex formed in the position of his sacral chakra, at the position where his spine bent when he leaned back.


    Then he bent forward to touch his toes.


    Then, posed with one foot forward and one foot fully stretched back with his hands touching the ground on both sides of the forward foot while his chest touched its knee. The half horse position.


    Next, he stretched even the forward foot back, getting into a push-up position.


    Bending forward, he let his forehead, elbows and knees touch the ground with his hips raised.


    Sliding forward, he let his thighs touch the ground and arched his back.


    Sliding back with his palms still on the ground, he raised his hips again and lowered his head till it was in line with his arms, finally leaving him in an inverted v position. Like a mountain.


    Then he was back to the half horse position.


    From there, he transitioned to a position of touching his toes, then straightened up and bent his body back with his joined palms raised above his head.


    Finally, he was back to his starting position with his palms joined.


    During each transition of posture, known as ¡®asanas¡¯ a different chakra was stimulated.


    This entire set of exercises was known as the surya namaskar and was the most basic of yogic postures.


    Surya meant sun in Sanskrit while namaskar referred to saluting someone with palms joined.


    Thus, the set of exercises were originally a form of solar worship where one saluted the rising sun.


    Breathing out a lungful of impure air, Aman relaxed.


    He felt totally refreshed and inspecting his soul, he felt that it was a bit brighter than before.


    Nama confirmed his suspicions.


    [It seems that there is a slight improvement in the condition of your soul after practicing yoga. Let alone, even if there wasn¡¯t, it would be worth your time and effort simply because of the increase in cultivation speed upon performing the exercises in tandem with soul manipulation.]


    He continued, [Now that our soul is at its peak condition, let¡¯s try controlling some ants again.]


    Eager to try, Aman walked over to the glass jar with a perforated lid that he had brought from downstairs.


    Closing his eyes, he focused on his Heaven chakra.


    This time it was much smoother and soon, he could feel the tiny clusters of nano-photons that were his freshly ingested blood cells within the ants.


    Focusing on one cluster, he tried to impose his will upon it.


    Suddenly, his senses seemed to expand and it seemed like he was touching an alien consciousness.


    It was an extremely rudimentary consciousness that seemed to think in terms of unitary actions like start, stop, bite, eat, return home.


    It had no concept of past, present and future and hence it had almost nothing in terms of memory.


    It was almost like a machine programmed to perform a particular task and all the previous instructions were modules of its programming.


    The first time Aman had felt it, he had been so creeped out that he had lost his connection with it.


    But this time he was prepared and now, he wanted to try and command it.


    He tried to mimic the activity of the ant¡¯s soul when it was performing the actions and force its soul to behave that way with the nano-photons embedded within it.


    It was too difficult. The main problem was that the nano-photons were too few to control the whole soul.


    Now he understood what Nama meant when he said that the degree of control was dependent on the degree of integration of his soul with theirs.


    But how was he to integrate more of his soul into them?


    It was not like he could walk up to a hospital and say: ¡°Hey there can you use your Gene Fuser to put my genes into this ant?¡±


    And even if he could¡­ it wouldn''t be worth it.


    Thinking hard, he came up with a solution the moment Nama spoke up.


    [You don¡¯t have to control their whole soul, you can just imitate the stimuli they receive from the pheromones they emit. That is what makes them function.]


    Ants emit a cocktail of chemicals known as pheromones¡­ basically, they communicate with smells.


    When they pick up a certain pheromone, they treat it as an instruction of what to do.


    Ever wondered how ants find their way back to their nest? Pheromones are how.


    When an ant finds food, they release a pheromone that says ¡°food here¡± and other ants can follow it to there and as they walk, they keep releasing a trailing pheromone which they can retrace to find their way back to their nest.


    Even, as more and more ants reach the food and make their way back, the path to it gets optimized as more ants chose to use the shortest path back, hence, making the concentration of pheromones on that path the most.


    After observing the changes in the ant¡¯s soul and its reactions to the various pheromones, Aman finally had enough idea to attempt again.


    This time, the nano-photons acted like a trigger and the ant itself did most of the work of moving.


    It was like the difference between giving a machine commands versus giving every component of the machine its own command.


    The burden on him reduced drastically.


    Aman also found that this way, he could give several ants the same commands with the same effort.


    He threw himself into his practice, only stopping to meditate to alleviate his fatigue or have his lunch and visit the washroom.


    By the end of the day, he had dark circles around his eyes and his head hurt from excessive thinking but his eyes were bright.


    They were filled with confidence and anticipation for the next day.


    The setting sun cast a long shadow as he left the roof.


    If someone were to take a closer glance at the shadow, they would see it filled with neat rows of ants arranged in rectangular formations.


    His ant legion.

 Chapter 22: The First Target

    The morning classes were a blur of tension and anticipation.


    Aman clenched and loosened his palms under his desk, wiping the sweat off on his pants.


    Although he had made his preparations, he had hoped that Ashok would see some sense in the interval of the weekend and let him off.


    But one look at the malicious glances he, Ronnie and Rohit had sent his way when they had entered class had made it clear.


    There was no two ways about it.


    He would have to fend for himself. There was no use putting stock in them suddenly growing mature and merciful.


    His leg started vibrating in nervousness as he watched the clock tick the time till lunch break.


    It would be his first time using his soul powers and he had only practiced for a day.


    He wasn¡¯t sure he could pull it off and if he couldn''t, they wouldn''t just stop at stuffing his head down the toilet.


    The boy in front of him turned around, annoyance clear on his face.


    He forcefully pushed down his thigh with his hand, preventing it from vibrating and rattling the desk.


    He smiled apologetically and the boy grimaced and turned around, muttering something unflattering under his breath.


    Aman took a deep breath to clear his mind. This wouldn''t do.


    If he remained in this state, he wouldn''t even be able to use soul sight, let alone command his ants.


    ¡®Nama, help!¡¯


    [I¡¯m sorry. I have no control over your emotions. Deal with it yourself.]


    Aman gritted his teeth. How useless.


    [I am not.]


    Ignoring the AI¡¯s protest, he focused his mind on the blackboard, trying to distract himself.


    It was History class.


    The teacher was talking about the period known as the Genetic Revolution.


    Beginning with the discovery of nano-photons in 2030, this year was the 50<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the genetic revolution.


    There were a lot of social, political and religious unrests involved with making genetic technology mainstream.


    Several orthodox factions believed that this technology would only polarize the society even more. They believed that there were always things that money couldn''t buy like intelligence and physical potential.


    That was what allowed those born poor to excel even and climb the ladder of society.


    But, with the introduction of the genetic technology, even that could be bought and sold.


    They feared that it would result in the ossification of social structure and the divide between the rich and the poor would only grow larger.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Supporting them in their crusade against genetic tech was several religious factions.


    They began to revile the tech for encroaching upon the domain of God. In their opinion, the Creator was the only one with the right to decide our attributes and man altering them after birth was not only greatly disrespectful to their maker but also a sign of ingratitude to their parents.


    After all, when nearly half your genes weren¡¯t your own, could you call yourself your parents¡¯ child?


    On the political front, many of the poorer nations began to air their concern that opening up gene trade would lead to Gene Drain, a sibling phenomenon of the infamous Brain Drain where the country¡¯s population would sell of their genes to international dealers for money.


    And this was just a tip of the iceberg of problems involved with the paradigm shift involved in moving on to the Gene Era.


    The class was about the various solutions proposed for these problems and how they had fared.


    It was a fascinating subject and Aman soon lost himself in it, forgetting his anxiety until the ringing of the lunch bell broke him out of his reverie.


    As soon as the teacher left, he made a dash for the door but this time, the effects of selling off his agility came back to haunt him.


    He was noticeably slower than three days ago. And the situation would only grow worse over the course of the following month.


    And even if he did have his full agility, he wouldn''t have been able to escape the clutches of the two louts that were blocking the door.


    After a short and futile struggle, he was being frog-marched to the boy¡¯s washroom.


    This time, Ashok was coming too. He wanted to be a part of this.


    Aman wheezed as he tried to recover from the punch to his gut.


    He deliberately stumbled as the three of them pushed him into the washroom, causing Rohit to lose his hold on him.


    He went sprawling on the ground before scrambling to get up.


    Ronnie grinned fiendishly as he pressed down on him with his foot, not allowing him to get up.


    Ashok, meanwhile, watched him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.


    ¡°Not so hot now, eh bighead? Don¡¯t you think for a second that I didn¡¯t see you smirking when I came fourth¡­ well, third, since you¡¯re so useless that even coming first wasn¡¯t able to get you selected.¡± taunted Ashok.


    Unseen by the three boys, three large ants were crawling up their shoes and up their legs.


    Rohit kicked him in the side. ¡°Hey, boss is speaking. Answer him!¡±


    Aman¡¯s eyes snapped open and an obscure glow flashed within them.


    Ronnie opened his mouth to add to say something but his eyes bugged out and his voice went up a few octaves as he shrieked shrilly and clamped his thighs and clutched his crotch.


    Soon, Rohit and Ashok followed.


    The three of them fell over each other as they desperately dashed to the cubicles to take off their pants and deal with the attack to their manhood.


    Aman slowly got to his feet, a smirk on his face even as he clutched his aching side where he had been kicked.


    Those ants had been specially selected by him from the colony for their size and the pain inflicted by their bites. Those three wouldn''t be able to come for him today.


    Smoothing out the creases of his uniform, he walked out the washroom, leaving muffled shrieks of the boys behind.


    Now, to cover it up.


    He was quite discreet in nature and he didn¡¯t dare underestimate the intelligence of anyone. So that his use of powers wouldn''t be discovered, he had arrived very early and painted the bottom of the seats of the three of them with honey.


    Then he had taken control of an ant from a colony in the school and led a trail of them through the classroom window to their seats.


    Now, even if anyone connected the ants to him, it would only be considered a prank. The ants having bitten the boys when they moved too much.


    Even as he was walking towards his classroom, he tried to maintain his link with the three ants. The further the distance, the fuzzier his sensation of them became.


    It seemed that the connection depended on the separation. Soon, two of the connections winked out as the ants were killed.


    He chuckled as he felt one still going strong, hoping that it was the one on Ashok.


    Suddenly, a sharp tingle ran up his spine and his head whipped around.


    He found his gaze locked with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen outside of the advertisements.


    Their eyes met for only a moment before the girl walked past, surrounded by a gaggle of admiring schoolkids.


    But, Aman was sure of what he had felt.


    ¡®Hey, Nama¡­ are you thinking what I am thinking?¡¯


    [Technically, as we share a brain, that statement always holds true¡­ but in this case, yes, I think you are correct. It seems we have found our first target. A user of your genes.]


    Aman¡¯s lips curved upwards. Interesting.


    He would quite enjoy getting to know her. After all, she was the infamous president of the student council. The uncrowned Princess of the school. Ananya Adhikari.

 Chapter 23: ‘Inversion of aesthetics? Seriously?’

    Ananya was in a daze as she looked out of the window of the car as it zipped down the streets towards her home from school.


    No matter how she tried, she couldn''t get the image of the boy out of her head.


    Who was he?


    How come she had never seen him before?


    And most importantly, why did her very soul tremble when she saw him?


    The questions circled around in her mind and the answers weren¡¯t forthcoming.


    It would be understandable if the boy was extremely handsome and charming like the protagonists of the romance novels she so frequently read.


    But, he was as far away from her mental image of how a romance novel protagonist should look as could be.


    He wasn¡¯t tall. He wasn¡¯t dressed any differently than any other student. He definitely wasn¡¯t handsome.


    Neither did he have an aura of pathos which might have attracted her.


    In fact, he had a smug smirk plastered all over his face when she had laid her eyes upon him.


    But¡­ but that feeling¡­ like electricity running up her spine.


    It was unforgettable. She had to know more about him.


    Turning to the chauffeur smartly dressed in a black suit that was driving the car, she requested, ¡°Uncle, can you get me the information of a boy in my school for me? Noting the pattern on his tie, he is either in my year or the year below. Also, you can¡¯t miss him¡­ his looks are extremely¡­ unique.¡±


    The chauffeur who had been in their family for over a decade and watched her grow up, raised an eyebrow. ¡°Milady, you¡¯ll have to be a little more specific than that.¡±


    ¡°Uhh. How to put it¡­ he is quite ugly. The thing is, I don¡¯t remember anyone transferring to the school in the recent years and his looks are quite eye-catching. I was just curious as to who he was.¡±


    The chauffeur nodded. ¡°Do you want a hard copy of his file or do you want me to email a softcopy to you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like a hard copy, please. You know I don¡¯t like to read electronic documents.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have it sent to your room by tonight.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Uncle,¡± said Ananya with a bright smile.


    If anyone at the school saw her smile, they would be surprised as her standard expression there was an icy poker face.


    Finally arriving at the Adhikari mansion, the car stopped at the gate to register its credentials with the security guards before continuing on.


    Ananya¡¯s father was the owner of Adhikari enterprises, a chain of property dealers and private schools, one of which was the school at which Aman studied.


    Ananya¡¯s mother had passed away when she was very young and she remembered little of her. She only knew that her father had loved her mother enough that he had refused to remarry. As the only child of her father, there was a lot of pressure on her to perform.


    And indeed, most of her day was spent shuttling from one lesson to another. Music, dance, tuitions in various subjects and even mixed martial arts. All of this alongside being groomed to take over the company in the future.


    It was no wonder that she had developed an aura of superiority when she dealt with her peers. Many looked up to her as their idol.


    You would expect her to be frustrated with her regulated life. Stifled by the pressure.


    Well, you would be half right.


    She had felt that way. Once.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Watching her peers enjoy themselves while she had to ¡®play that piece again on her violin because she had used too much vibrato and competitions heavily penalized that¡¯ had caused her to snap and complain tearfully to her father.


    ¡°You don¡¯t love me.¡± She had said. ¡°Your company is more important for you.¡±


    He had only replied. ¡°Meet the goals that have been set for you and you can request anything you want. As long as it is in my power, I won''t refuse.¡±


    So, she had worked extra hard that month and exceeded all her teachers¡¯ expectations.


    She had made only one request. ¡°Accompany me for the whole week. It¡¯s my birthday on Tuesday.¡±


    She had expected to be refused. Her father was a busy man and in this fast paced world, a lot could happen in a week without him helming the company.


    He had only nodded.


    That week was the happiest she had been.


    The week after the saddest. Watching her father run off caffeine and only two hours of sleep a day as he struggled to make up for missed time, his dark circles growing deeper each day had left her with a profound impression.


    Now, meeting expectations had become a habit. Exceeding them, her pride.


    The car pulled over in the parking lot and she got off, thanking the chauffeur.


    Kicking off her shoes and putting them in the shoe rack, she exchanged them for comfortable slippers before climbing the stairs to her room.


    Throwing her bag onto a chair, she dived face first into the bouncy mattress before rolling around on it.


    It was only in her room that she could relax fully.


    Flipping onto her back, she took a look around her room.


    Pastel shades dominated the d¨¦cor with a pale pink being the dominant colour.


    Stuffed toys were scattered all over her bed and her room. If there was anything that could be called her hobby, it was handmade stuffed toys.


    Her collection included works from all around the world in all sorts of materials and styles.


    But her favourite one was the worn-out five-foot teddy bear that had followed her since she was but a baby. According to her father, it had been bought for her by her mother.


    One of the few signs of her ever having existed.


    Grabbing the bear by one of its paws, she hugged it and rolled around on her bed some more as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her.


    Frustrated at the utter lack of answers, she got up with a huff and went over to her book collection.


    There weren¡¯t many titles on the shelf but what were there were inevitably from the romance genre.


    Pulling out a slim paperback, she flipped to the page number she remembered.


    The book read:


    ¡°¡­ as the transfer student walked in with confident strides, the entire class grew still. When he turned around, our eyes met and I felt a tingle run up my spine.


    ¡°It was then that I knew. I was in love.¡±


    Ananya snapped the book shut and replaced it.


    It had always been one of her least favourite reads. The plot device of love at first sight had felt so contrived to her... the only reason she had continued was because she liked the personality of the main character.


    But reading it again¡­ wasn¡¯t it the same feeling she had today?


    Was this possible? Could she be a victim of cupid¡¯s errant arrow?


    Her father had put no restrictions on her future partner unlike the fathers of every second female scion she read about in her novels.


    In his words. ¡°The reason I made this company wasn¡¯t so I would be fettered by it but rather empowered by it.¡±


    But, though her young heart yearned for romance, she had found none outside her books.


    The reason for this was self-evident.


    None were worthy.


    Her collection of medals, trophies and certificates could fill several shelves.


    She had excellent genetics since birth and with the resources her father wielded, it was a simple matter to make up her deficiencies.


    Why? Just recently, someone had sold off four whole agility stats to the grey market¡¯s genetic hospital, which was just what she had needed to reach a perfect 10 in all fields.


    Like Gene Extraction, to a much lesser extent Gene Fusion also damaged the soul. So, she had to recuperate between each successive session.


    Also, there were a lot of people with cash and genes of the desired types were quite scarce so she had been quite lucky to get her hands on those four agility genes.


    She was currently recuperating from her operation and so, for the next few days, she wouldn''t have to attend her dancing or MMA classes, leaving her with free time.


    Also, she had been pre-evaluated and she was scheduled to join the Indian Institute of Eugenics, come fall.


    With this string of qualifications, whenever she tried to look at the boys she knew through rose-tinted glasses, all she saw were disappointments.


    Thus, she had gained a reputation of untouchability and being cold and proud.


    But this cold and proud princess was perplexed today and the one who was the cause for this was one of the ugliest boys she had seen.


    Taking out her phone, her fingers flew over the screen, typing out a query for the search engine.


    The resulting answer was:


    ¡°Cacophilia, from (Greek. Cacos meaning bad or unpleasant), is the growing phenomenon observed specially among the upper class of society. It is the love or appreciation of all things ugly. Psychologists state that this inversion of aesthetics is a result of human predisposition to consider rare things precious.


    ¡°As gene transfer becomes common and the overall genetic scores keep rising due to several government policies encouraging people above the genetic median score of 25/50 to reproduce and discouraging those with scores below, the attractiveness index of the population rises in tandem.


    ¡°Cacophilia is a trend that has shown up in recent years with increasing frequency¡­¡±


    Ananya stopped reading and put the phone away.


    She stared blankly at the ceiling as she flopped down on her bed on her back.


    The image of the boy flashed past in her mind and the only thought she could muster was:


    ¡®Inversion of aesthetics? Seriously?¡¯

 Chapter 24: Spirit Dimension

    Aman yawned as he sat down on his seat at school. He had spent a sleepless night thinking of what to do if Ashok realised his involvement in the ant incident.


    Even if he took it as a prank, it wouldn''t stop him from trying to get at him again.


    It wasn¡¯t like he could use his powers again. Exposing himself would be worse than taking a beating. Specially if Nama was discovered.


    But, he soon realised that he needn¡¯t have worried. Ashok and his cronies hobbled into the classroom with sour looks on their faces and ignored him.


    Apparently, they had taken it as a coincidence and hadn¡¯t connected the dots.


    Aman relaxed. That was good. His eyes gleamed with determination. He needed to cultivate faster and restore all his genes so he wouldn''t be as helpless anymore.


    The first bell rang and the teacher entered and began teaching after the roll call.


    Suddenly, an announcement blared out over the public address system.


    ¡°Aman Batra, Ashok Rana, Rohit Kumar and Ronnie Bindra, please report to the principal¡¯s office immediately.


    ¡°Repeat. Aman Batra, Ashok Rana, Rohit Kumar and Ronnie Bindra, please report to the principal¡¯s office immediately.¡±


    Aman raised his eyebrow. What was this all about?


    The four of them went out of the class and made their way to the floor where the office was.


    Midway, Ashok stopped and grabbed his collar. ¡°Hey, did you snitch on us again?¡±


    Aman shrugged. ¡°What use would that be? You know what happened last time. I don¡¯t know what this is about either.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± Ashok snorted and let him go with a shove which caused him to stumble and nearly fall.


    Smoothing the creases from his shirt, Aman tamped down his anger and followed behind the trio.


    Reaching the office, they knocked.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    Pushing the door open, they entered. Their eyes widened as they noticed that the principal wasn¡¯t alone.


    Sitting on a couch to the side with her legs crossed was the president of the student council: Ananya Adhikari who was currently sipping some tea.


    ¡°Come, sit, the four of you.¡± said the principal as he gestured to the sofa in front of him.


    They took their seats, shooting Ananya glances, confused by her presence.


    Aman¡¯s heartbeat had actually sped up. It was like planning a burglary in someone¡¯s house and the next day they show up at your house for lunch.


    He had been planning how to target Ananya, maybe use her aid to restore his physique. But, those plans were all for the future as from yesterday¡¯s contact he had realised that her soul was quite a bit stronger than his.


    On the verge of the second tier of soul density according to Nama¡¯s estimate.


    But he hadn¡¯t expected to meet her so soon. Did she figure something out?


    The principal began speaking. ¡°It has been brought to my notice that the four of you have been involved in a deplorable case of bullying. Mister Batra, you had complained to us once before about this. We tried to bring about a peaceful summation but it seems that Mister Rana and his friends didn¡¯t take us seriously.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Aman had a strong urge to check outside the window to see whether the sun had risen from the west today. What tune was this sly principal singing today?


    Wasn¡¯t school policy to suppress such incidents to preserve their unblemished reputation?


    Aman shot a look at the girl on the couch who was still calmly sipping her tea. He became aware.


    So that¡¯s how it was. Everyone knew that Ananya¡¯s father was a big deal but nobody knew what exactly he did. Nobody had the courage to ask her directly before.


    Although rumour was that the owner of the industrial chain that ran the school was her father, it was unconfirmed.


    But, seeing today¡¯s situation, there might be some truth to it. But the question remained¡­ why would she help him? Did it have something to do with yesterday?


    The principal continued. ¡°For that, Mister Rana, you will be suspended for a week, seeing that you weren¡¯t a direct participant but you were clearly the one to incite the incident. As for your two friends¡­ I fear that our institute has no place for them anymore. They are to be expelled.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± exclaimed Ashok as he shot up to his feet, knocking over the table in front of him in haste.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that! I¡¯m in my final year. How am I supposed to apply to colleges with such a stain on my cv?¡±


    The principal shrugged. ¡°You should have thought of that before doing all this then.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ but I am the football team captain. With a disciplinary record, I can¡¯t participate in the finals of the state junior tournament. The team needs me. You can¡¯t do this to me over that useless lump!¡± He exclaimed as he pointed at Aman.


    A crisp and cold voice cut through his shouting. Ananya put down her cup and spoke, disdain clear on her face. ¡°If you don¡¯t remember, before an Ashok, there was an Aman. When he left, it didn¡¯t take long for you to fill in the gap. The same is true for you. This school¡¯s team is strong enough to win with or without someone as disgraceful as you. No one is indispensable. Please leave and only show your face after a week has passed, or not. Your choice. Your friends aren¡¯t welcome back, ever.¡±


    The principal pointed to the door. ¡°Please leave before I have to call security. I would like to keep the unpleasantness to a minimum.¡±


    Ashok stood rooted to the spot, opening and closing his mouth like a fish before he shot Aman a venomous glare and strode out of the room with his cronies.


    Aman watched the whole exchange silently, trying to figure out what might have brought his about.


    The principal stood up and smiled at Aman. ¡°It seems that the young lady wants to speak with you alone, so I won¡¯t intrude much longer. For any inconvenience you might have experienced at our school, I apologize for my mismanagement.¡± Even though he was smiling when he spoke, the smile didn¡¯t reach his eyes. He lowered his head slightly towards Aman before leaving the two of them alone in his office.


    Ananya stood. Walking up to the principal¡¯s vacated chair, she sat down and began to study Aman from across the desk.


    She had read his file yesterday and was touched by his sacrifice for his family. Reading about the bullying and the school¡¯s attempted cover up, she had been quite upset.


    So, she had settled upon this way to both crack down upon the principal¡¯s corruption and gain Aman¡¯s favourable impression and an excuse to chat with him.


    She wanted to see whether she would feel the same as yesterday in his presence. She was disappointed¡­ that electric sensation wasn¡¯t there.


    But, after reading his file, she was at least slightly impressed so she continued speaking.


    ¡°Firstly, I am Ananya Adhikari and as you have probably guessed, I am the daughter of the owner of this school. I apologise for our neglect.¡± She lowered her head slightly to him.


    Aman hastily stopped her. ¡°No. It¡¯s okay. At least you acted to help me. I¡¯m quite grateful.¡±


    ¡°No. It was my duty to do so. No need for thanks. Frankly, I quite admire your sacrifice spirit and I felt letting you suffer from bullying would be quite unjust.¡±


    ¡°Well. Thank you then. I feel that this isn¡¯t the only thing you wanted to tell me.¡±


    ¡°Right. I heard that you performed very well in your selection test for the Indian Institute of Eugenics. Unfortunately, you still missed with it due to your circumstances. Right after that, your scholarship was discontinued. Then this bullying¡­


    ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel bad about how the school has been less than supportive.¡±


    Aman couldn''t help but snort derisively. ¡®Less than supportive¡¯? she really had a sweet tongue on her.


    Ananya¡¯s lips quirked up into a small smile. ¡°But, from an official standpoint, discontinuing your scholarship is justified. That is why, I have personally decided to compensate you.¡±


    Aman¡¯s eyebrow couldn''t help but rise.


    Ananya took out something resembling a credit card out of her handbag and slid it over the table to him.


    Taking it up, he studied it. It was a dark grey card with black highlights and a QR code on one side and a 10-digit number on the other.


    On the side with the number, ¡®VR¡¯ was embossed in silver.


    ¡°That,¡± said Ananya ¡°is a pass to the Spirit Dimension. A virtual reality.¡±

 Chapter 25: Dreamland

    Aman frowned. ¡°You mean the Virtual reality where you are surgically hooked up to a pod so that it can regulate your body functions and jack into your nerves?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not ready for that sort of commitment for a game.¡±


    ¡°No. Not that sort of VR. What I am talking about is a lot more advanced than that. Instead of the nerves, it connects with the soul itself so there are zero invasive surgeries involved.¡± Ananya reassured him.


    She continued. ¡°What exactly do you think the purpose of the Indian Institute of Eugenics is? Like¡­ why cultivate the soul at all. In today¡¯s technological society, isn¡¯t going beyond the human limit rather redundant? It¡¯s not like guns will suddenly become ineffective. Then why spend so much resources to create these elite warriors?¡±


    Aman thought about it. Actually, if the answer was that the government wanted to train up agents and anti-espionage personnel, then he would have to say that the plan was pretty stupid.


    After all, the covertness of the agent was their best weapon. When you could just look into a roll list of the Indian Institute of Eugenics and say who was an agent, it made little sense.


    Actually, the only reason he had wanted to join the Indian Institute of Eugenics was that they would help him reach a perfect ten in all fields at least before he passed out, thereby greatly shortening his recovery. He hadn¡¯t gone to think about the government purpose in any sort of detail.


    Finally, he had to ask. ¡°Why?¡±


    She replied, ¡°Have you ever had an out of body experience? Like you feel that you are looking at your body from the outside. Even if you haven¡¯t, you must have had an absurd dream where you saw things impossible in reality, or went to some place which you had never seen before.


    ¡°Well, these things are the result of your soul touching the spirit world, also known as the dreamland. I don¡¯t know much about it but basically, the dreamland is the result of the nano-photon that have dissipated out of the dead bodies and accumulated in the atmosphere.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°It is a layer of nano-photon that have formed from the accumulation of the departed souls of all lives on earth since the first bacteria.


    ¡°It is full of all sorts of fantastic sceneries and even mythical creatures. Basically, the imagination and thoughts of all sentient lives on earth have shaped the dreamland into a magical alternate reality.¡±


    Aman¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°So, you mean that the purpose of the Indian Institute of Eugenics is to explore this dreamland. Then what is this Spirit Dimension you speak of?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The dreamland is full of untapped resources. You can only enter there as a soul body while your body is placed in the deepest of sleeps. The resources there are extremely helpful for soul cultivation and what is more, any technique you learn there can be used in the real world as well. Several cultivation techniques have already been brought back from the dreamland.


    ¡°Since you go as only a soul, you can¡¯t take any tech with you¡­ so you can only depend on your cultivation. The Spirit Dimension is a VR that has been created with the dreamland as the model. It is very rudimentary and currently, all that is there is a network of arenas where one to one duels can be held using soul techniques.


    ¡°It is actually training for entering the dreamland. The arenas will match opponents internationally and the leader boards will be created. It is actually another way to find people with talent to join the exploration of the dreamland. Right now, it is a race between countries to explore more and gain more benefits.


    ¡°This is because not all those who are selected for Indian Institute of Eugenics are combat talents however talented in soul cultivation they might be. You can go to the gaming arcade in the city mall and show your card. They will let you use the pod. There are very lucrative rewards involved and the higher your rankings, the more you earn.


    ¡°Right now, the Spirit Dimension is still in the beta phase but soon, it will be made open to the public. Then the competition will be intense. I think you should try to capitalize on this head start. Although your soul is damaged, your control is very good according to your selector. So, I think you might be able to do really well and improve yourself.¡±


    Aman took the card from the table and put it in his pocket. ¡°Thank you. I will try hard.¡±


    Then he took his leave.


    Watching his receding back, she frowned, then shook her head and sighed. That feeling must have been a misconception. Taking out her phone, she checked an app.


    SD Rank checker:


    User ID: 875t167465


    Rank: N.A.


    She would just keep an eye on him¡­ maybe she would be pleasantly surprised.

 Chapter 26: Divine Vision

    When Aman left the room, he hissed at Nama under his breath. ¡°What¡¯s this about the dreamland and Spirit dimension? Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    [I told you before that my memory is encrypted with different densities of nano-photons. I probably have all of this in my memory bank but we are too low level to contact this. We need to cultivate quickly to get to the second level of soul density.]


    ¡°So, do you think that I should go to this Spirit Dimension and check it out?¡±


    [Of course. We should at least see what the rewards for winning are. You have some spare cash from selling your agility genes but that won''t get us very far. I know what you are thinking¡­ that she probably has a way to track the rank of the card and that if you grow too fast then anyone who sees the rank, she or her father, can grow suspicious of your reason for success. But that won''t be a problem.]


    ¡°You have a solution?¡± asked Aman surprised. ¡°I thought that you knew nothing about these things.¡±


    [I don¡¯t but that doesn¡¯t mean that I can¡¯t extrapolate a solution from given data. The girl said that the dreamland is entered in the state of deep sleep. I can put you in a state of deep sleep. Problem solved. You are probably the only one who can enter the dreamland without any other device.]


    ¡°Wait¡­ Hold your horses. She also said that the dreamland is a really erratic space and that anything can happen and people can easily die if their luck isn¡¯t good. Didn¡¯t you hear her say that the machines they use at Indian Institute of Eugenics have a safety measure where they can wake up the participants when they show signals of danger?¡±


    [I can help with that as well. The one who will be in the dreamland will be you while I am still awake in your body. As your soul is connected to your memory, I can see what you see in the dreamland and when you are in a tight spot, I can wake you up. It¡¯s almost as if I, in fact, any nascent soul is built specifically for dreamland exploration.]The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Aman thought about it for a while.


    ¡°That may actually be it. You know about the legend of the blind King Dhritarashtra?¡±


    [From the Epic of Mahabharata?]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [I do. What is the connection? Oh. I see. You mean to speak of his charioteer Sanjaya and his Divine vision?]


    ¡°Speaking to a mind reader is really convenient. Yes. Dhritarashtra, King of the land of Kuru was offered Divine Vision by the Sage Vyasa. But since he didn¡¯t want to see his children fighting with his brother¡¯s sons, he asked that the vision be bestowed to his charioteer Sanjaya so that he could narrate the events of the war to him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think that the name of the upper dantian being the third eye chakra in yoga and being associated with Divine Vision which could be used to see extremely far objects without any hindrance from obstacles is a quite telling clue?¡±


    [So, you mean that the ability Divine Vision utilised the dreamland as a medium to peek on stuff happening far away?]


    ¡°Yeah. Since we already have our upper dantian cultivated, can¡¯t we try this out? It would be such a huge advantage. Imagine sitting in a room and being able to monitor everything in the city. Tech isn¡¯t advanced enough to block nano-photon based espionage¡­ we could get filthy rich with this.¡±


    [I see that you are determined to skip classes anyway¡­ so do you want to go to the arcade and test this Spirit Dimension out first or go home and check out the dreamland.]


    Aman checked his phone.


    ¡°Nah. Going home this early will worry ma unnecessarily. Let¡¯s check out the Spirit Dimension. It is the training ground for entering the dreamland after all. It¡¯s better to go step by step. As for Ananya monitoring me? Let her. I think it will be good to show her some measure of our progress. Enough to think that we are worth investing resources in and not too much that she thinks that there is something fishy.


    ¡°But before that. Won''t you be detected by the Spirit Dimension device since it works on nano-photons?¡±


    [That is actually a matter of concern. It shouldn''t be able to since my nano-photon signature is exactly the same as yours but who knows? But rest assured. I can temporarily switch myself to hibernation mode until you wake me up again. Then it will be like I don¡¯t exist at all. So, if I detect that the scanners of the Spirit Dimension machine are too powerful, I will let you know and hibernate. Otherwise, I can probably enter the Spirit Dimension along with you and provide assistance as there is no need for someone to stay out and act like a wake-up switch.]

 Chapter 27: Larceny

    Aman entered the arcade drawing a lot of strange looks. He ignored them. He was used to it by now. Walking up to the reception, he showed his VR card to the receptionist whose eyes widened in surprise.


    The receptionist was internally surprised as only very influential people had this card. How did this type of person have a card? He felt doubtful whether this was a new fad to set themselves apart from everyone who was trying to max their genes.


    Aman didn¡¯t bother to stick around to correct his misconception and just walked into the lobby of the VR area where a staff member met him and took him to the hall where the actual soul VR was.


    Spirit Dimension was a very bulky machine and it had a high stress factor on its users so the time limit for a session was one hour.


    First his card was registered to him with soul matching technology which was the most secure thing now and his credentials were set on it.


    Then he was asked to change into a hospital gown specially made for the VR machine and he was put into the pod.


    There, two metallic plates were attached to the side of his head and the machine started.


    His world went dark.


    Soon, there was light again. Looking around he saw that he was in a all white room with no ventilation or any sort of distinguishing feature.


    Looking down at his body he found that it was a plain white humanoid figure with no features. Slowly, he moved his hands but he felt disconnected and clumsy.


    He thought to Nama, ¡®Are you there?¡¯


    [Yes. The sensors aren¡¯t strong enough to detect me.]


    Aman nodded and waddled around for a bit until suddenly, he felt a tingling and looked down to see that his height and weight was changing and coming closer to the actual real life value.


    Over the next 15 minutes, his featureless humanoid body changed until it was an exact replica of his real life body.


    He did several exercises and stretches and saw that the performance was accurate as well. He was very impressed.


    [I underestimated the complexity of dreamwalking. It seems that I need to learn from this machine. I need to jack into it and copy its data.]


    ¡°How will you do that?¡±


    [We need to wait for an opportunity.]


    Soon, a mechanical voice rang out.


    <Aman Batra, welcome to your first time in the Spirit Dimension. We will need to fully assess your soul potential for the record. Although, as this is a mechanical reading, it will be quite approximate in nature, it will be enough to suggest a cultivation direction. Ready?>


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Then several pictures appeared in front of him on a floating virtual screen. It was the postures of the Surya Namaskar. The voice instructed him to perform the exercises and he ran through the whole set five times before it was satisfied.


    <Your Heaven and Third eye chakra are more developed than the rest. Your heart chakra is the weakest followed by your sacral chakra. Soul density in the first tier.>


    Along with its words, many screens popped up with explanations for the terms used and the basics of the soul. Aman already knew the stuff but still read again to both brush up and so that anyone monitoring him wouldn''t find anything fishy.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Aman asked Nama. ¡®Why couldn''t you do this and tell me my exact readings, you are supposed to be the most advanced biological nano-photon computer.¡¯


    [I have the hardware but the software is not there. That is one more reason why I need to jack into this computer. Tech is forever advancing and I need an update.]


    <The Spirit Dimension system suggests that the participant chooses one of the two following starting cultivation methods. Yoga or Heavenly connection. The user is not suitable to cultivate qi.>


    [Choose the Mesopotamian Cultivation. I think I know how to jack into this thing.] said Nama.


    When Aman made his choice, the other options vanished and a screen with the details of the method appeared. He read it and it was basically the same as the one he was using. He just needed to concentrate his soul to his crown and then find the point where the separation from outside his body was the thinnest.


    By thin it didn¡¯t mean the thickness of the actual skull but the point where the soul leaked out from the body in minute quantities.


    Every time someone thought, more nano-photon were produced but that didn¡¯t mean that everything was still stored in the soul of the individual or it would result in old people having high soul density.


    That wasn¡¯t the case as the nano-photon leaked out at almost the same rate as they were produced. The nano-photon which leaked went and joined the dreamland.


    That was why the dreamland was affected by the collective thoughts of the sentient creatures in the world.


    After Aman easily found his crown¡¯s weakest point known as the Heavenly cord, or the crown chakra, he spread his sensation out along with the departing stream of nano-photons.


    Just like the time controlling ants, he stretched his mental grasp towards the group of nano-photons that the system had generated for him as a target. His job was to affect the target with his own nano-photons if he managed to do it the target would be shifted away.


    The farther it was, the more difficult. That was why the maximum distance he could reach would be the measure of his talent.


    Soon Nama¡¯s voice came. [Good. I got hold of the system AI using your heavenly cord. Now, you do the test. Don¡¯t hold back as this is truly your talent and I have no effect on it. I will go and get what I need from the AI.]


    Aman nodded and continued the testing. His final result was ten metres. That too because he had prior practice controlling the ants but without Nama¡¯s help shutting off his senses, his injured soul created a problem again.


    <Result: 10m. Rank for equivalent soul density. A Rank. Due to soul injury, the result is erratic. Final record. B rank.>


    <Now. Please choose a soul amplification and soul sealing method.>


    The previous Cultivation methods were all basically ability cultivation methods. Like the one he used to control ants was for training the use of the Heaven chakra.


    Similarly, each chakra had corresponding abilities and separate cultivation methods for them. Like the Third eye chakra had a cultivation method for using soul sight on outside targets like the selector for Aman¡¯s test Sushil Mohanty had used.


    It also had cultivation methods for creating a nascent divinity.


    Then combining the two, Divine Vision.


    The heart chakra would have the ability to stimulate the potential of the body like the man who had died and given Aman the soul sensor had used.


    These were ability cultivation methods.


    But how to increase the soul density? First. The leakage had to be stopped. That was soul sealing.


    Then one had to stimulate their thoughts and their body to produce more nano-photons. That was soul amplification.


    These three types of cultivation could be mixed and matched from the techniques of the three Ancient Civilizations. They didn¡¯t interfere too much with each other.


    So, the Surya Namaskar was a soul amplification technique.


    While, acupressure could be used for soul sealing.


    These days, Aman had sealed his soul and practised the Surya Namaskar regularly. His soul had grown a lot.


    Of course, the soul had to be moved appropriately along with the exercises and the acupressure for them to work otherwise, in so many years, many yogis and acupressure experts would have become soul warriors accidentally.


    As Aman completed the tests, Nama was connected to the AI and stealing data.


    But, the side effect of this data stealing was that the data had to go somewhere and that somewhere was Aman¡¯s brain. This caused quite a bit of stress and the system detecting this aborted the session 15 minutes early.


    When he came out and performed all the formalities and left the arcade after another round of tests to see what the problem was, he was exhausted.


    They had finally concluded that the system was overloading his brain somehow. He had been asked to take a break of one week before he tried again. Meanwhile they would see if there was a problem with the system.


    Returning home, Aman threw his bag away and flopped down on his bed.


    Taking out another energy bar from his pocket, he stuffed his face with it. With the way Nama guzzled calories, he had to eat over twenty of those every day. He was sick of the taste.


    ¡°Did you get the data?¡±


    [Yes. The full thing. The AI was defenceless in front of me and I entered it and took what I wanted.]


    ¡°Stop! Why does that sound so wrong? Just tell me whether we have enough info to explore the dreamland tonight.¡±


    [Yes. We do.]

 Chapter 28: Demons and Gods

    Aman appeared upon a tall mountain in the dreamland.


    His body was the same as it had been in the Spirit Dimension, a featureless white humanoid and then over the next few minutes, just like it had there, his body gained features and colour.


    Finally, he found himself standing upon a mountain peak, an exact replica of himself.


    He moved his body to test his limits. He was pleasantly surprised to find that his movements were smoother and more natural than even in the Spirit Dimension.


    Nama¡¯s voice resounded in his mind.


    [Testing. Can you hear me?]


    ¡°Yes.¡± He replied.


    [Good. It looks like the data merge was successful. Whatever you see is recorded in your memory and I can read it from there with a short lag. The same applies to you and you can hear my thoughts with a small delay.]


    ¡°How large is this delay? Will it be a problem to withdraw me in emergencies?¡±


    [In the order of milliseconds. Shouldn''t be a problem.]


    Aman looked around at the snow-covered peaks and heard the sound of the wind blowing in the area. He was just in his casual wear. He should have been feeling quite cold but he felt nothing.


    Looking closely at his body he noticed a thin transparent layer covering him in a glossy coat.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    [That¡¯s something I picked up from the AI. The dreamland can be very erratic and there are a lot of natural hazards and hostile environments. Like you could be thrown into magma immediately. Or under water. That layer is there to protect you. It puts a barrier around you with nano-photons and until it is breached your soul won¡¯t receive damage. But after it is broken, you will be just as squishy as in real life.]


    ¡°So, is this cold wind being kept off by this barrier?¡±


    [Yes. It basically puts your soul body in an environment similar to what your real body is in. But that also consumes the barrier. I have set up the barrier¡¯s durability as a percentage and put it in a HUD as a health bar. It will show you how much time you have left in the dreamland as I will pull you as soon as the barrier breaks.]


    Aman looked up at the top right corner of his vision as a green health bar suddenly appeared.


    ¡°Whoa. HUD? Health bars? And infinite resurrection? This is looking more and more like an RPG.¡±


    [The Spirit Dimension is basically a stripped-down version of the machine used in the Indian Institute of Eugenics to send people into the dreamland. The core concept for it was to treat the dreamland as an open-world game and the explorers like the players of a VRMMORPG.]


    [The various nations are the factions and the goal is to dominate as much of the territory as possible. The members of the Indian Institute of Eugenics are only the pioneers and from some of the residual data I found, they plan to open up dreamland exploration to the public. Then it will really be like a VRMMO with the quest rewards actually carrying over to real life.]


    ¡°But that seems a bit far away. Don¡¯t you think? The Spirit Dimension is so rudimentary, just a white space, and it is so expensive. To make the ¡®game¡¯ accessible to everyone¡­¡±


    He shook his head and threw these speculations to the back of his mind and looked all around him at his environment to get any sort of clue as to where he was and what he could do.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Everywhere he looked, there were mountains towering up to the sky, the peaks of some even getting lost in the cloud layer. The one he was on was still on the shorter side but that was still roughly 4000 metres as per Nama¡¯s triangulation tool on the HUD.


    At this altitude he should be having difficulty breathing and the temperatures would be very low. But he didn¡¯t feel any of it. It was as if he was still in his cosy bed. Only the steadily dropping health bar showed the harshness of the environment.


    Suddenly, the ground vibrated under him and he nearly lost his footing. Then even as he regained his balance, it happened again.


    A huge bellow reverberated off the mountains, causing several snow-covered peaks to start an avalanche.


    He whipped his head around to the source of the sound and his eyes widened.


    The shortest mountain was moving.


    As it came closer, he realised that it wasn¡¯t a mountain at all but a gigantic bull. It was jet black in colour and its sharp horns curved upwards, the points glinting red in the dim light. All around it, there was a demonic miasma that obscured its form but sometimes, the bloody red glint of its eyes as well as the jets of steam it released with each breath would be visible through the miasma. Every step it took caused the ground to vibrate from its weight.


    Aman¡¯s mind locked up in fear as he watched the demonic bull approach. His first thought was to run away but each step of the bull caused him to lose his footing as the earth quaked.


    ¡°Nama! Take me back!¡± he screamed.


    But before he even heard a reply, a huge soul pressure covered him. It was incomparable to the pressures of the two experts he had felt before.


    If those were like boulders pressing on his soul, then this was more like a mountain.


    He felt insignificant, like a speck of dust in front of it.


    [bzzt¡­ bad signal¡­ bzzt¡­ trying to abort¡­ failed¡­. Retry¡­]


    That sound seemed to crush Aman¡¯s last mental defence line and he just curled up into a ball and began to mutter.


    ¡°Idontwnnadieidontwannadiedontwannadie¡±


    Suddenly, the cloud layer split and a sacred golden brilliance dyed the mountain peaks golden. Auspicious sounds rang out along with the sound of conch shells. Flowers rained down from the sky and the calming fragrance of burning incense filled the air.


    The golden light drove away the miasma wherever it visited and the fragrance reached Aman. He suddenly felt that the soul pressure had weakened severely and that he wasn¡¯t as fearful anymore.


    Tentatively uncurling himself, he squinted against the light to look up. there from the sky, several bright golden clouds were descending. He could fuzzily make out figures sitting on the clouds but they were obscured by the light.


    Only the foremost cloud was visible from where he was and on top of it sat a man.


    Or, rather a God. For that was all he could be. even sitting there, he radiated an aura of superiority and command. His eyes were closed and he sat in the lotus position with his hands in his lap as if meditating. His apparel was a regal tunic embroidered with gold threads and covered by a gilded breastplate with ornate designs. On his lower body, he wore a pleated dhoti in white silk, embroidered with gold.


    The most eye-catching feature was his ornate crown that had a large circular disc of engraved gold at the back of his head that framed his face. The disc shone with a halo that cast a shadow upon his face even in the ambient light, obscuring it.


    But, what truly set him apart from a mortal was his size. Though incomparable with the demonic bull, the man was at least a hundred metres in height. Otherwise, Aman wouldn''t be able to see him from where he was on the cloud.


    The bull turned its head towards the golden light and narrowed its eyes. Then it bellowed at them in provocation.


    The God¡¯s eyes opened slowly and in his shadowed face, they glowed brightly with contained lightning. Sparks of electricity leaked from the corners of his eyes as he locked gazes with the bull.


    Then he leisurely raised a finger and pointed upwards.


    The clouds around him swirled in a huge vortex suddenly turning dark and crackling with thunder and lightning.


    He pointed at the bull and a thick pillar of lightning crashed down from the massed clouds towards it as if listening to his command.


    The bull bellowed arrogantly and swung its head, its horns glowing red as blood. The thick bolt of lightning was simply knocked away by it with ease.


    The shockwave from the clash washed over Aman who was doing his best to hide behind a rock and with a cracking noise, his barrier collapsed.


    He felt as if his soul would dissipate the next moment. He fell into despair.


    His first time in the dreamland and he had to fall into the battleground of gods and demons. He didn¡¯t want to die. He had a lot of things left unfinished.


    [Connection established. Withdrawing. In 3, 2, 1¡­]


    With a flash of light, he was gone. The next instant, a bolt of lightning deflected by the bull crashed into that very spot as the battle intensified.

 Chapter 29: A brush with death

    Aman woke with a scream. His clothes were soaked with sweat and he was shivering from fear and adrenaline. He was just an ordinary schoolkid. Coming so close to death had severely rattled him.


    Curling up on the bed, he hugged his knees to his chest as he tried to get the vision of the battle between the demon and the gods out of his mind. But even as he squeezed his eyes shut, a flash of lightning and the stench of ozone assaulted him.


    His eyes flew open as he took a shuddering breath.


    It had been so close. Just a moment later and he would have died under the bolt of lightning. An insignificant casualty in the battlefield of the gods.


    ¡°N-ama,¡± his voice came out hoarse as he stuttered the word through chattering teeth.


    [Yes.]


    ¡°What w-as that?¡±


    [We apparently underestimated the dreamland. That, if I am not wrong was a battle between the bull demon Mahishasura and the Devas of the Court of Heaven.]


    Aman clutched both of his hands together to stop them from shaking as he took deep breaths to calm himself.


    The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps resounded outside his door and soon someone knocked rapidly on his door.


    ¡°Son? Are you all right? I heard screaming.¡±


    It was the worried voice of his mother.


    Stabilizing himself with great difficulty, he got out of his bed and walked to the door. By the time he opened it, he had regained some of his composure and his hands weren¡¯t shaking as much.


    Even then, when his mother saw him, she was alarmed. Shoving her way into the room, she smoothed back his hair and hugged him. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? You¡¯re as pale as a ghost.¡±


    He hugged her back before gently separating from her. ¡°It¡¯s nothing ma,¡± he said as he smiled reluctantly. ¡°Just a nightmare.¡±


    ¡°Brother. Are you fine?¡± came a soft voice. Aman looked up to see that Preeti had managed to make her way to his door with the aid of her crutches.


    As the doctor had mentioned, the first week would be one of the greatest changes after which the body would adapt to the soul sensor and the gains would plateau. It had only been three days and she was already able to walk around unaided, with only the help of her crutches.


    Aman felt warm in his heart from the concern of his family. It desalinated the chilling shadow of death that had covered him and he felt a lot better.


    He reassured them and sent them back with explanations of it only being a nightmare. Nothing more. They didn¡¯t have to know how deadly the nightmare actually was.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Closing the door and leaning his back against it, he exhaustedly sank down along it to the ground.


    He inhaled deeply and exhaled.


    ¡°So¡­ I met the infamous Mahishasura and the King of the Gods. On my first trip to the dreamland. Is my luck really that bad, or should I say good?¡±


    [Actually, it wasn¡¯t all luck. Try and remember what is supposed to happen later this week.]


    ¡°Later this week,¡± muttered Aman before it finally hit him. ¡°You can¡¯t mean¡­ the Puja Vacations?¡±


    [Exactly. After experiencing your situation and combining it with the current circumstances, I was able to finally get some clue to analyse some of the scrambled data that was present in the AI.]


    [Apparently, the AI for the Spirit Dimension is just a torn down version of the one used in the Indian Institute of Eugenics to enter the dreamland. There are a few modules that have been simply removed and simplified. But the modification left some vague traces. With the clue I got now, I was able to reverse engine¡­]


    ¡°Stop! I don¡¯t care. Get to the point. What is the reason I nearly got killed and is it possible to avoid danger? Otherwise, I don¡¯t think going into the dreamland is any different from suicide.¡±


    [Fine. The crux of the matter is that the dreamland is affected by the collective subconsciousness of the public. As many people are thinking about the myth that is the basis of the religious festival of Durga Puja which is arriving, the dreamland is showing scenes from the related myth.]


    ¡°So, that was the scene of Mahishasura attacking Heaven and battling the Devas of the Heavenly Court?¡±


    [Yes. That was what it most likely was.]


    ¡°So, was that demon and those Gods real? Like, have they been perpetually conducting their fight throughout the aeons that have passed since their death? Were they even ever alive in the first place?¡±


    [I don¡¯t have the answers but, I feel that I have data on these topics encrypted in my memory. If we want to clarify this, we need to cultivate. But, if I were to make an educated guess, I¡¯d say that the demon and the gods were basically just constructs made up of nano-photons, shaped by the whims of the public subconscious.]


    [Just like in an ocean, there are some swirls of water, these creatures were spawned by the agglomeration of the nano-photons in the dreamland. In fact, I got some readings off them. Other than Indra and Mahishasura, the rest of the Gods were just fuzzy constructs and a few of them even vanished and some new ones popped up even as the battle was going on.]


    ¡°Wait. How did you even notice with all the hectic stuff going on?¡±


    [I have no emotions. Therefore, I am not crippled by fear. And anyway, whatever you see even from the corner of your eyes is recorded by the brain and I can access it. Perfect recall, if you will. That¡¯s how I have data from even that situation.]


    Suddenly Aman felt that there was a light screen in front of him showing the picture of the fight again, then it zoomed into a corner and there even amidst all the shaking of the frame, he managed to catch one of the forms of the Devas simply disintegrating and elsewhere, another just appeared.


    ¡°How are you doing this?¡± asked Aman as he tried to touch the screen and his hand passed through.


    [The database of the AI was really useful. The screen is in your mind. I don¡¯t have a hologram projector hidden in me.]


    Aman sheepishly retracted his hand.


    ¡°Perfect recall is great and all¡­ but how do you enter the dreamland safely? I don¡¯t want to pop up in another one of these epic scenes. Next time I might not survive.¡±


    [As I said, I managed to glean some stuff from the AI. Apparently, the Indian Institute of Eugenics only lets the players enter the dreamland at specific times and at lonesome places. It is basically calculated to minimize the chance of what happened to you happening to any one of them.]


    [I have some of the metrics for calculation but I will have to analyse them more before we can enter the dreamland again with some measure of safety. Till then, I suggest that you view the changes in your soul. Our ordeal wasn¡¯t for nothing.]

 Chapter 30: The Next Step

    Aman checked his soul.


    He was pleasantly surprised to find that its condition had improved significantly.


    If previously, it had been like an apple with deep gashes in it, now, the gashes had filled over.


    Not that it had healed totally, mind you, it was still a skinned apple.


    But it was a skinned unscarred apple. Much better than before.


    ¡®How did this happen?¡¯ he asked Nama mentally.


    [It was your meeting with the Gods. Remember the incense you smelt when they arrived?]


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯


    [Right after you inhaled it, you felt that the soul pressure of the demon reduced, right?]


    ¡®Yes. So, my soul¡¯s improvement is due to that? How¡¯s that even possible.¡¯


    [I don¡¯t know the exact details, but there is a legend that the agarbattis, the joss sticks, lit in heaven give off an aroma which acts like a panacea for all mortal illnesses. Maybe the public perception caused the incense to have a similar effect? I know too little to speculate.]


    Aman shook his head. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter for now. The main thing is that I have recovered substantially.¡¯


    [Then what do you have planned next while I digest and analyse the information we gained today?]


    ¡®Say, how confident are you in hiding yourself from the scans of the Indian Institute of Eugenics?¡¯


    [Fully.]


    ***


    The next day, Aman went to school and impatiently suffered through the morning classes as he waited for the lunch bell to ring.


    It was a boring day with nothing to detract from the monotony.


    Unknowingly, he had grown used to the presence of the Ai in his head and it suddenly felt lonely without its voice.


    Also, the school hadn¡¯t exactly publicized the suspension and expulsion of Ashok and his cronies¡­ so his classmates only thought that they had taken the day off.


    If they knew, then it would be a noisier day for Aman.


    When the bell finally rang for lunch, he hurried out of the class and made his way towards the student council room.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    When he reached there, he found it quite busy with several of the student council members present and some underclassmen submitting some sort of form to them.


    He ignored them and pushed his way into the crowded room, drawing some discontented muttering.


    Disregarding them, he walked up to Ananya who looked up from the document she was working on in surprise.


    ¡°Please, come with me. I have something important to talk to you about.¡±


    There was suddenly total silence in the room as everyone was surprised at his sudden statement.


    Then the room burst out into whispers.


    Aman didn¡¯t need to hear them to guess their contents.


    Not that he couldn''t hear them with how loud some of the ¡®whispers¡¯ were.


    Ananya raised an eyebrow at him, but he kept his composure and treated everyone else like air.


    He stood there silently, waiting for her answer.


    As the pause lengthened, the whispers turned into snickering and jeers which, as the pause stretched even further, awkwardly petered out.


    There was silence.


    Throughout it, Aman stood his ground.


    Ananya finally sighed and capped her pen. ¡°If it is that important.¡±


    They left the room together, leaving a stunned audience behind.


    In an empty classroom, Ananya opened a window and sat on the sill.


    She turned to him, silhouetted by the light streaming inside and asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°My soul has recovered.¡±


    ¡°What!? How?¡±


    ¡°I went to the Spirit Dimension and spent an hour there. Something went wrong and it began to show anomalous readings. I was ejected before my hour was up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s rare. The Spirit Dimension is made keeping compatibility in mind¡­ but it is an emerging field after all. There might be exceptions¡­ So? What does this have to do with your soul recovering?¡±


    ¡°Something? Nothing? I have no clue. But after I went home and slept, I had a nightmare of being caught up in the battle between Mahishasura and the Gods led by Lord Indra. When I woke up¡­ my soul had recovered substantially from its damage.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ that is¡­ This is very significant information. But¡­¡± she looked at him in confusion. ¡°Why tell me?¡±


    ¡°You have connections¡­ even if this isn¡¯t some sort of breakthrough for science, you at least have the capability to connect me to the man who took my test. Sushil Mohanty, was it? He is probably still in town, conducting more tests¡­ Fate has favoured me. I would be silly to not try for a retest.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Ananya didn¡¯t know why, but she was a bit disappointed.


    When Aman had called her out publicly, she, like the others in the room had thought that he wanted to ask her out.


    Even though she had felt a spark the other day, in the absence of the spark appearing again on their second meeting, she had dismissed it as a misconception.


    But having read his files, she was a little impressed by him, so she hadn¡¯t declined coldly like she was wont to do.


    Instead, she had just let him stew for a while in the gaze of the public to see how he would deal.


    He had dealt with the pressure splendidly.


    So, she had come with him, planning to gently friendzone him and put him in the prospective boyfriend list as the first and only entry.


    But his practical request¡­ treating her like a go-between for him and the selector hurt her pride for some reason.


    She felt an irrational urge to just reject him but logic told her that the current state of affairs was the more likely one and the scenario she had cooked up was quite silly.


    She was happy for him¡­ after all his sacrifice for his sister, he deserved a break and she wouldn''t be Ananya Adhikari if she let a fit of pique destroy the future of a deserving man.


    ¡°Haah. Alright. I¡¯ll contact him for you. Give me your number.¡¯


    The two touched their phones together and swapped contacts.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Said Aman as he left after saving the contact.


    Ananya looked at the ten numbers on her phone.


    Sighing, she put the phone away and left the room. She must be coming down with something. She was acting weird.

 Chapter 31: Mission

    Aman exited the cab and looked up at the majestic entrance of the hotel he had been asked to come to by Ananya: Hotel Taj.


    Apparently, the selector was lodging there for the duration of his stay.


    Showing his ID at the reception, he was asked to wait for a bit as the staff confirmed his appointment.


    He didn¡¯t have to wait long before he was in the elevator, rising up the floors to his destination.


    Seventh floor, third hallway, room number eight.


    He rang the doorbell and swiped his ID card in the security panel.


    After a moment, he heard the sound of the door being unlocked and it opened to reveal Sushil Mohanty standing there.


    He gave Aman an appraising glance with his piercing feline eyes, then stepped aside and invited him in.


    ¡°Come on in.¡±


    Aman followed him into the living room where he found Ananya already sitting there on the sofa with a man dressed in a crisp black suit standing behind her like a bodyguard.


    Sushil took his seat on the couch opposite to the sofa and invited Aman to seat himself.


    Taking his seat, Aman dived straight into the topic. ¡°Thanks a lot for taking some of your precious time for me.¡±


    Sushil shook his head. ¡°If what you said is true, then it could be greatly helpful for our research into the dreamland. For that, what is an hour or two?¡±


    He leaned back in his seat. ¡°Now, tell me about that dream you had and any other discrepancies you experienced after exiting the Spirit Dimension.¡±


    So, Aman narrated his prepared story and stuck as close to the truth as possible, only omitting important bits of information so that the overall picture became entirely different.


    His version completely hid the presence of Nama and implied that he might have a special constitution that had a special affinity to the dreamland.


    He wanted to sell the idea that he would be very effective in exploring the dreamland.


    It seemed that he was successful as Sushil became pensive after he heard his story and remained silent as he pondered.


    Meanwhile, Aman felt the scrutinizing gaze of the man who was standing behind Ananya.


    He didn¡¯t feel any sort of malice or disapproval from that gaze. it was simply an impersonal assessment of him. Whether he would be disadvantageous to her.


    It made him shudder.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Maybe he was out of his depth. It felt like he was playing with fire and he would get burned.


    Sushil finally looked up.


    ¡°Okay. Perform the exercise I asked you to do during your selections. I want to see how much your soul actually recovered.¡±


    Aman obliged and concentrated upon his soul galaxy even as the cat-eyes of the selector shone with a weak soul brilliance as he focused on Aman.


    This time, Aman found it much easier to control his soul and soon he was well on his way to concentrating his soul into his heart.


    Suddenly, Sushil¡¯s soul pressure crashed down on his soul and he almost lost control. But, what Sushil wasn¡¯t aware of was that Aman had experienced the soul pressure of the Gods and this small amount was like a light breeze.


    He had only been momentarily surprised.


    Now that he was ready, no matter how much Sushil increased the pressure on Aman, he didn¡¯t flinch and continued his task of concentrating his soul and finally, he was done.


    Even though Sushil had been half-convinced when he saw that it was Ananya who was vouching for Aman, he had still expected Aman¡¯s story to be a cleverly concocted lie to garner another chance at the Indian Institute of Eugenics.


    But now that it was clear that he was speaking the truth, Sushil couldn''t help but become excited. This was a significant find.


    What was the cutting edge of science now? The dreamland of course.


    Any advancement in the field was highly sought after as it would give the country an edge over the others in the race to conquer this new land.


    Aman, if he really was found to have a special constitution would be a very significant asset for the Indian research teams.


    And he, as the one who had discovered him would get a promotion.


    But, there was one last difficulty.


    Sushil kept the excitement he was feeling out of his expression and asked, ¡°How many contribution points do you have?¡±


    Aman was surprised out of his meditation by the question, but unlike before, he was able to gently release the condensed soul instead of suffering backlash like before.


    This made Sushil nod internally. The boy had truly recovered a lot.


    Aman hesitated a bit and replied honestly, ¡°Zero. I exchanged all my extant contribution points for funds.¡±


    Sushil sighed. ¡°I knew it would be that way. You probably sold your genes in the grey market to maximize profit.¡± Noticing the tense cast of Aman¡¯s face, he hastily reassured him, ¡°Not that that is a problem. Just, right now, you have two choices and you need contribution points to select the better option.


    ¡°You can either choose to enter the Indian Institute of Eugenics as an experimental subject or as a student. If you choose the former you¡¯ll be working for them and you get remuneration and contribution points but if you select the latter, you¡¯ll be working with them and as such, you need to pay some contribution points to pay for your education there as you aren¡¯t entering through the regular channels. Of course, the rate will be greatly discounted due to my recommendation and you will be paid for the hours you act as the experimental subject. That will, in time, counter-balance your initial payout. Also, you get to be the second author for any research paper that gets published with results pertaining to your body. This is the condition the Indian Institute of Eugenics offers to all people in situations similar to you. What do you want to do?¡±


    Aman didn¡¯t even have to think to reply. ¡°The second option of course.¡±


    Sushil cracked into a smile. ¡°Good. As expected of the associate of an Adhikari. You have ambition.¡±


    His expression grew solemn as he addressed both Aman and Ananya. ¡°The reason I¡¯m here isn¡¯t to purely test students for talent. That is merely a cover for my true purpose of investigating some shady dealings that have been going on in this city. Ananya is here as she has to gain the contribution points required for entry to the Indian Institute of Eugenics independent of her father, as do all prospective Indian Institute of Eugenics students. Think of this as another layer of screening. Forming teams of two or three is allowed.¡±


    He looked them both in the eye solemnly. ¡°I need your help. If you accept, this will be your team mission worth the required contribution points. Do you both accept?¡±


    Aman turned to Ananya and she gave him a faint smile then turned to Sushil and said in a clear voice.


    ¡°We accept.¡±

 Chapter 32: Investigation

    Aman hated the October weather. Winter clothes felt too warm and summer clothing just wasn¡¯t adequate.


    He walked down the footpath outside the metro, wearing a grey hooded jacket, shapeless, faded jeans, and trainers with frayed laces. A train had just pulled in. Behind him, the commuters were fighting their way out of the station. The concourse was a tangle of cars, taxis and pedestrians, all of them trying to find their way home. A traffic light blinked from red to green but nothing moved. Somebody leant on their horn and the noise blared out, cutting through the cool evening air. Aman drew out his phone and unlocked the screen. Six o¡¯clock; he was half-an-hour early.


    Swimming against the stream, he jostled through the crowds as he made his way to the pre-determined meeting spot: a fountain in front of a large mall.


    Along the way, he was passed by men, women and children in a hurry to purchase last moment additions to their Puja wardrobes. They had to dress up for four whole days, after all. Aman sat himself down on the concrete railings of the fountain and settled down to wait. The sounds of the street, the chatter of the crowd and the patter of the water fountain merged into a noisy background as dusk covered the city.


    The street lamps turned on automatically, the light casting harsh shadows of the pedestrians on the pavement. Aman looked up as he sensed someone approaching. Over the last few days, his senses had improved drastically and he felt a sort of tingle at the back of his mind whenever someone was paying attention to him. Nama had gone into hibernation to digest his gains, leaving him to figure out these new changes by himself. With his limited jurisdiction, he had no access to any sort of advanced soul related information. His progress in decoding the ¡®why¡¯ of his soul wasn¡¯t encouraging. He just had to accept that he had developed some sort of sixth sense and roll with it.


    Ananya stepped into the pool of light cast by a streetlamp and as if welcoming her arrival, the fountain behind him lit up in many colours, casting him into shadow and illuminating her in a multicolour brilliance.


    He looked past her at a sleek, black car parked across the street. He had a strong feeling that he was being watched. ¡°It seems I¡¯m not very trusted,¡± he said. Following his gaze, Ananya grew embarrassed as she noticed that her chauffeur had yet to leave. She made shooing motions until the car finally drove off. Turning to him, she asked curiously, ¡°With your attire, it¡¯s no surprise that Uncle found you suspicious¡­ Why are you dressed like that, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m less eye-catching this way.¡± Aman drew his hood lower. ¡°Not that it matters with you around.¡± Ananya glanced around, noticing the abundance of gazes she was drawing. Dressed in a midnight blue salwar and skinny jeans, the mix of traditional and modern attire accentuated her slim figure. Along with her loosely braided hair and white handbag, she portrayed the role of the youthful beauty to perfection. Shrugging, she countered. ¡°You¡¯re the strange one. It¡¯s the day before the puja vacations. Everyone is dressed to impress. You stick out like a sore thumb.¡±


    Aman ignored her and began walking away from the mall. The corner of her eye twitching, she had to take long strides to catch up. What was this treatment? When was the last time anyone had dared to disregard her? ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t just start walking. Tell me what you have planned.¡±


    ¡°Nothing much,¡± replied Aman as he turned a corner and crossed an area cordoned off by the police. ¡°You go check out the pandal as you ordinarily would while I check for any entrances from the back.¡±


    She raised her brow. ¡°The back? You do realize that the idol is wearing over twenty-eight kilograms of golden jewellery, don¡¯t you? What do you think would happen if you were caught sneaking? I can bail you out, but your cover would be blown and along with it, your chances of entering the institute.¡±


    Aman glanced around to make sure that no one was paying particular attention to him before slipping away. ¡° Just meet up with me in an hour by the food stalls. Don¡¯t worry. I have my means.¡±


    Ananya snorted disgruntledly and stomped towards the main entrance of the pandal. ¡°Hope so.¡±


    After separating from Ananya, instead of walking towards the pandal, he walked away from it, weaving his way through the crowded thoroughfares filled with pandal-hoppers dressed in their brand-new clothes brimming with excitement for the pujas.


    According to Hindu myth, Mahishasura was a demonic buffalo that could change his form however he wished. After many years of penance, Lord Brahma, the creator of the Universe in Vedic mythology, pleased by his devotion, granted him a boon. Overjoyed, Mahishasura asked for eternal life, only to be informed that it was beyond the God¡¯s power to grant. So, he had to draw back one step and ask for invincibility instead. But every boon, according to the laws of the Universe, must have a flaw. So, Mahishasura, in his arrogance stated: ¡°I wish to be undefeated by God, I wish to be undefeated by man, I wish to be unbeatable by even the Divine Trinity, only a woman may harm me. But woman is weak. It is the same as wishing for immortality for as long as I am undefeated, even Yama, the God of Death will bow before my might.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Thus, it came to be that the demon gained the strength to rival the heavens. Returning to the Netherworld, he captured the throne and became its ruler. Amassing an army of Asuras, he led them to war against the Devas of heaven. By the power of his boon, Mahishasura was unstoppable on the battlefield and the Devas retreated in defeat again and again till, finally, even the Divine Trinity, the supreme Lords of the Past, Present and the Future were forced to acknowledge defeat; for a boon was a contract with the laws of the Universe and even the Trinity, despite all their power, were subordinate to it.


    So, began Mahishasura¡¯s reign of terror over the three realms.


    At wit¡¯s end, the Devas all gathered together on Kailash, the mountainous abode of Lord Shiva - one of the Trinity. Lord Brahma, remorseful for his action, proposed that since only a woman could defeat the demon and no woman alive was up to the task, they should pool their powers to create one capable of it.


    That was how Goddess Durga was born. Created by the Devas and yet, their creator. The being closest to the source of the Universe, she sallied forth on her Divine Lion, her ten hands armed with the weapons symbolic of the foremost of the Gods. She battled the Asuras for four days and four nights and on the last, pierced Mahishasura¡¯s heart with her divine trident, bestowed upon her by Lord Shiva, made in the image of his own weapon.


    The festival of Durga Puja was celebrated every year henceforth to remember her victory over the demon. The vanquishing of Evil by the forces of Good.


    Dodging the crowds, Aman reached his destination. A multi-storeyed apartment building overlooking the venue of the Durga Puja funded and conducted by Raunak Bose, the owner of the pharmaceutical chain that Sushil believed was involved in supplying a drug cartel. It wasn¡¯t likely that anything shady was going on here but if there was and Sushil himself turned up, it would alert them to the fact that he had caught on to them and result in the trail going cold. So, while Sushil tried to investigate the underworld aspect of the cartel, Aman and Ananya had been tasked with reconnoitring the pandal. A cushy assignment if ever there was one. A boy and a girl just pandal-hopping during the Pujas. If he didn¡¯t know better, he might have suffered from the misconception that the man was setting them up on a date.


    Aman knew that some of his classmates lived in that apartment, having overheard one of their conversations. So, he signed in at the entrance, with his purpose set as a social visit. Swiping his student card, he walked out of the security booth and boarded the elevator to the fifth and highest floor. Getting off, he took the stairs to the roof.


    At this time of the night, the gate to the roof had been locked. Aman was unperturbed - it was within his expectations.


    He touched the lock and ants crawled out of the long sleeves of his hoodie, entering the keyhole. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Soon, with a ¡®click¡¯, the lock fell open. Recalling the ants, he opened the gate and walked onto the roof. From this height, he could see city spread out beneath him, the roads gleaming with the lights of speeding cars. The skyline-blocking buildings glittered with the lights that leaked from their windows, giant billboards screamed their gaudy messages in neon colours and crowds of people thronged the streets.


    But the most eye-catching of all was a gigantic construct that had been erected in the middle of the recreational park that lay across the street from the building he was currently on.


    Built with a framework of bamboo poles, covered with cloth, decorated with streamers, and resplendent in lights was the pandal. It was a temporary temple that housed the gigantic idol of the Goddess Durga slaying Mahishasura while the Devas looked on.


    Over the years, the festival of Durga Puja had evolved, growing ever more lavish until, in modern times, in the city of Kolkata, where it was the most in vogue, every club and organization worth its salt organized a Puja. There were hundreds of pandals of varying sizes scattered over the city, ranging from the size of rooms to ones that dwarfed cathedrals in their grandeur. The pandals might be temporary, destined to be torn down after the four-day festival was over, but they were fireworks, that bloomed their splendour in the instants they existed.


    Pandals¡­ and the idols they housed were artistic masterpieces with thousands of artisans and sculptors who made their living solely off the earning the festival brought them. Every pandal competed with the others to attract more footfalls. The more popular the organization¡¯s pandal, the higher their prestige among their peers.


    It wouldn''t be an exaggeration to say that the four days of the Durga Puja was a city-wide, no, to some extent state-wide art exhibition.


    In the other parts of the country, the festival was celebrated, but the fervour was incomparable.


    Throwing back his hood, Aman closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The cool night breeze ruffled his hair as he concentrated on his chakra causing the veins around his eyes to bulge slightly. With a low shout, his eyes flew open, his pupils ringed with an obscure brilliance.


    Divine Vision.

 Chapter 33: Thoughtless Words

    The world turned silent, monochrome and gained a dimension. It was as if Aman had been a stick figure drawn on a sheet of paper, living in his 2D world; then, a God had reached out, plucking him from the plane, and he could suddenly see everything. At once.


    The first time this had happened when he had tried to test Divine Vision, he had passed out from sensory overload. Thankfully, the hastily cobbled together ability hadn''t left any permanent damage to his soul and for the price of some transient pain, taught him some caution.


    With how often Nama had been helping switch his senses on and off, the previously subconscious actions had become a sort of instinct and he could now achieve it even without the hibernating AI''s help. Thus, when he had activated Divine Vision, he had cut off all of his senses except vision and even for that he had curtailed his ability to see in colour, reducing the load on his brain as far as possible.


    Yet, the strange state of omniscience still caused him to reel back as the oddly distorted images hit him.


    In this state, obstacles meant little as the inside and outside of a room was the same to him. The only limit to his perception was the distance. He could see everything in the radius of a mile around him. Outside it, his perception returned a blank. But, for his purposes, it was enough.


    Focusing on the pandal across the street, he tried to locate any suspicious areas in or around it. He didn''t have to search very hard. His eyes widened as he noticed that there was a large room underground, right below where the idol was placed in the pandal. Concentrating harder, he noticed three tunnels leading away from the underground room. Just as he was about to trace the tunnels back to their origin, his vision swayed.


    His ability cut off and the world returned to normal. Losing control of his senses, colours, smells and sounds assaulted him as they rushed back in waves. The world seemed to spin as a strong wave of nausea hit him and he had to stabilize himself with his hands on the railing.


    Shakily, he sank to the ground and buried his head between his knees like he had seen people do when there was turbulence during a flight. This expedient measure to combat airsickness seemed to help as the nausea slowly retreated, leaving a throbbing headache in its stead.


    He sucked in deep breaths and exhaled. At his level, using such advanced abilities was simply asking for trouble. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulled out an energy bar and stuffed his face with it. After the third, he felt like gagging at the very taste of them. After awakening his soul sensor, he had eaten way too many of them. Tucking away a half-eaten bar into his hoodie, he decided he needed proper food.


    But before that, he thought of what he had learnt. Apparently, Sushil had been right in his suspicions of the pharmaceutical business tycoon. Raunak Bose was clearly involved in shady dealings. Dealings that justified digging tunnels and a room out from under the public park and then constructing a pandal and conducting a Durga Puja above it. Aman had no idea what the man''s motive was, but that wasn''t something he needed to worry about.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    What he needed was a justifiable excuse for his discovery of the covert underground room so he could inform Sushil about it and collect his points.


    After all, he couldn''t just say, "Hey, I used the mythical ability, Divine Vision, to scope the area out." That would be a one-way ticket to an interrogation or worse, a lab table.


    His phone vibrated, breaking him out of his contemplation. He took it out and unlocked it. It was Ananya calling. Accepting, he put it against his ear as he leaned his head back against the railing of the rooftop. "Hello?"


    "Are you done? I checked out the pandal. No leads, though. I''m at the food stalls, when will you be here?"


    Aman glanced over at the teeming crowd lining up to enter the pandal, yet she had managed to gain entrance within ¨C he checked the time ¨C fifteen minutes? Really, status came in handy everywhere. "I''m done. I''ll be there shortly. Buy me some food from the stalls."


    Her indignant voice rang out of the speakers, "Hey! What do you take me fo-" He disconnected the call and put the phone away. He didn''t know why he was being so rude to her ¨C oh, who was he kidding? Of course, he did. Her existence reminded him of the unfairness of society. While people like him had to sell their genes in desperate straits, people like her, with status and background capitalized on that vulnerability to reach perfection.


    He shook his head to clear his mind. Be that as it may, he was behaving irrationally. In a sense, she was his patron. Maintaining a good relationship with her was of paramount importance. Antagonizing her because of an emotional tantrum wasn''t the smartest of moves. The repercussions of using the taxing technique was getting to him.


    And, she hadn''t done anything wrong... unless being born to a rich household was a crime.


    He got to his feet, swaying slightly as he regained his balance before getting off the roof, locking the gate behind him.


    By the time he reached the entrance to the apartment complex again, he had stabilized his condition. Signing out, he jostled through the crowds towards the area where the food stalls were set up. it didn''t take long for him to spot Ananya. She was really hard to miss, what with the way the crowd seemed to flow automatically around her, subconsciously giving way to her aura.


    He remembered Nama remarking that she probably practiced the art of qi cultivation. More specifically, an art focused on the lower dantian. Even before soul cultivation was in vogue, the phenomenon of someone in a position of high weight having a formidable aura had been noticed. It would feel as if they were larger than life. Their presence an almost substantive thing that made them immediately noticeable when they stepped into a meeting hall, making their words more persuasive and easily earning them the respect of others. According to the AI, qi cultivation mainly involved cultivating this aura of command or qi. It was the cultivation method of the Ancient Chinese Civilization Emperor lineage.


    In fact, the soul pressure that he had experienced before was a technique that weaponized this aura. As such, it was also known as qi pressure.


    From the frown on Ananya''s face, she wasn''t in the best of moods. When Aman neared her, she noticed, her eyes flashing angrily.


    "Here!" she said as she pushed a paper wrapped parcel into his chest. As he reflexively caught it, she whirled around and strode away, leaving him standing there with his mouth half-open in the first syllable of his apology.


    He snapped his mouth shut and looked down at the packet in his bosom. Unwrapping it, the mouth-watering aroma of chicken pakoras wafted up to his nose, causing his stomach to growl in approval. She had bought him food after all.

 Chapter 34: Dreamwatch

    Aman tried to catch up to Ananya but his efforts were futile. While the crowd parted for her, it refused to do the same for him. After getting jolted and jostled as he tried to push against the current and getting peppered with some choice curses by irate pedestrians, he gave up.


    Dodging and weaving his way out of the stream of people, he could finally breathe properly. He tugged at the collar of his hoodie, loosening it. After the heat within the press of the crowd, he was feeling a bit too warm in his current garments.


    Sighing, he looked down at the paper packet of food in his grasp. It had been slightly squished in the jostling of the crowd and some of the oil had seeped through the paper, making it translucent. He felt guilty for his lack of manners. Sighing again, he began walking towards the park.


    Before he went home, he had a few more things to verify. He had no idea how he would explain his knowledge of the underground bunker to Sushil, but he knew that more information wouldn''t hurt him.


    As the proverb went: Hindsight is always 20/20. Finding out all the details of Raunak Bose¡¯s operations would help him tailor a convincing lie to explain his knowledge. After all, back-calculation was one of the oldest tricks in the book.


    Reaching the entrance to the park where the puja was being held, he found a huge line snaking its way down the road like a python. If the area hadn¡¯t been cordoned off by the police ahead of time and the traffic redirected, there would surely be several accidents involving getting run over by cars. That was exactly the reason why the cordons were there in the first place. After all, the police had experience regulating traffic during the Durga Puja every year. They were old hands at this.


    But, in the absence of a VIP pass like the one Ananya had, or the status of a senior citizen, he would have to honestly stand in line to enter and that could take hours. He didn¡¯t want to waste that much time.


    Thankfully, he didn¡¯t need to actually enter the park for what he had in mind.


    There were a lot of plastic and foldable metallic chairs set everywhere. It was so anyone who felt ill while lining up could seat themselves and recuperate. There were several people sitting there already so he wasn¡¯t too conspicuous when he took a seat.


    Pulling his phone, he unlocked it and navigated to the contacts app, then to Ananya¡¯s number. His finger hovered over the call button for some time before he locked the screen instead and put the phone away. Instead, he gingerly unwrapped the soggy paper covering of the pakoras, careful to not tear it.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    He bit into one. The spicy flavour of the outer coating burst in his mouth followed by the juicy texture of the minced meat within. It was delicious. Soon, the packet was empty.


    Balling the paper up, he tried to toss it into a trash can nearby, only for it to miss and bounce off. Sighing, he walked over, bent down, picked it up and dropped it off properly. Wiping his hands on the paper napkins that had come with the snack, he dumped them too.


    Taking his seat again. He brought up Ananya¡¯s contact again, this time he pressed the message button and typed out: ¡®sorry¡¯. That would have to do for now. He pressed ¡®send¡¯ and stuck the phone back into his pocket.


    Taking out his handkerchief, he leaned back on his chair and bent his head back till he was facing up. Covering his face with his handkerchief like some people were wont to do to stave off nausea, he activated Divine Vision. The ability didn¡¯t care about obstacles, or the direction he was actually looking at and the handkerchief would hide his bulging veins.


    His view changed. But, instead of the oddly distorted picture of the present world he expected to see, his vision penetrated into the dreamland. The reason he was sure that it was the dreamland was firstly, because his vision was still undistorted, showing a normal perspective while he was sure that he had his ability activated, secondly, he was sure that he hadn¡¯t been sitting on a vast battlefield the last time he checked and if all this wasn¡¯t enough, the ten metre tall goddess riding a huge lion and battling a demonic bull was enough to tip him off.


    Since Divine Vision used the Dreamland as a medium to expand his sight, it was logical that sometimes instead of the real world, his sight would penetrate to the Dreamland instead. He had speculated as such but in practice, it hadn¡¯t happened till now so he hadn¡¯t been able to confirm his theories.


    This was a huge boost for him. Now he could scope out the Dreamland before he entered, eschewing the dangers. Right now, he was only observing the Dreamland, not in it, so he wasn¡¯t affected by the shockwaves generated by the battle between the Devi and the Asura. Although, their current forms were a far cry from the mountain sized demon he had met the first time.


    He had developed Divine Vision after Nama had sunk into dormancy so the AI didn¡¯t know of it. He was anticipating the reaction when it realized that whatever measure it had worked out to make Dreamland exploration safer had been made obsolete by his development of Divine Vision.


    Aman watched the goddess and the demon duke it out on the scarred battlefield, each of their clashes generating shockwaves. The Asura roared and charged, horns lowered, each step cracking the earth. The Devi urged her mount on with her heels, drew her bow with two arms, nocked and fired. As the arrow left her bow, it multiplied into two, two into four, four into sixteen¡­


    Soon, the sky was dark with shafts curving down onto the charging bull. Forced to stop, the demon looked up and bellowed, the soundwaves deflecting most of the arrows, even shattering some of the shafts outright. Yet, imbued with divine power, some made their way through, peppering its back.


    It roared in rage and pain and charged again.

 Chapter 35: Clue

    Aman tried to make out the Goddess¡¯ face but as in the case with the Gods from his last visit to the Dreamland, all he could see was a fuzzy countenance. So, he wasn¡¯t able to make out her expression as the demon charged towards her, its eyes red with rage and steam spurting from its nostrils with every breath.


    The mount of the Devi, her lion, roared its own challenge and rushed to meet it in battle. The ground shook from the might of the two confronting forces.


    They met in the middle of the battlefield, raising a ring of dust that expanded outwards.


    The lion roared in pain as the deadly horns of the demon gored it through one of its legs, hot blood streaming out of the deep wound. Fighting through the pain, it bit down on the side of the demon¡¯s thickly muscled neck and its claws rent deep furrows on its shoulder.


    Although he couldn''t see the Devi¡¯s face, he could almost feel her anger at the injury to her mount.


    With a movement too quick for even Divine Vision to follow, one of her hands flashed and the curved ceremonial blade, the Kharga, bit deep into Mahishasura¡¯s neck. With a pained bellow, the demon¡¯s limbs buckled under the weight of the blow, the ground fissuring beneath its hooves as it struggled to stay upright even as the blade nearly severed its spine.


    It tried to dislodge its horn from the body of the lion and retreat, only for the lion to clamp down even more viciously, holding it in place.


    Unrelenting, Devi Durga dislodged her weapon from its spine, drew it back and chopped down again, unheeding of the warm blood that splashed all over her, lending her an aura of fierceness.


    This time, her blade cleaved cleanly through Mahishasura¡¯s spine and passed through the rest of its neck, beheading it.


    The headless body flailed on the ground in the throes of death, its limbs twitching this way and that, drawing deep furrows into the ground. Furrows that soon filled with its blood.


    The lion reared back its head and roared out its joy at the victory, dislodging the Asura¡¯s disembodied head which still had its horn embedded in its shoulder.


    There was no warning at all.


    One moment, the demon¡¯s headless carcass lay still upon the ground, the next, its stomach burst out in a shower of gore and from within it, the bloody form of the Asura burst out with a snarl, now in the guise of a man. For Mahishasura could possessed myriad incarnations and his treacherous nature was known to all.


    Even as the lion roared of its victory, the Asura had already lunged forward towards the Devi, his claws outstretched and fangs bared.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    His claws stopped mere inches from her face, the blood dripping down from their tips and falling on the head of the lion below, startling it out of its premature victory celebration.


    Mahishasura looked down at his chest, where the Devi¡¯s trident, the Trishul, had pierced his heart. Shivering, it tried to pull the divine weapon out, but he had exhausted his strength and had nothing more left to give.


    The demon that had ruled the three worlds for a period of time breathed his last.


    Immediately, the Dreamland dissolved into psychedelic patterns and swirls before the entire scene began anew.


    Aman felt a tug on his soul that indicated that he was nearing the limits of his usage of Divine Vision.


    Hastily, he tried to make out anything useful from the Dreamland. The only thing he could make out was that beyond the battlefield, which was roughly the size of the park the pandal was in, the Dreamland turned really unclear and hazy.


    But in the distance, he noticed an area of clarity, though what was in it, he couldn''t tell.


    Without warning, his vision snapped back to his real body and his eyes snapped open, only for him to tightly shut them again as he gasped in pain. His eyes hurt like hell and when he touched them, he found the area around them inflamed and giving off heat.


    Getting up shakily from his chair, he staggered his way blindly to the drinking fountain that was nearby, wet his handkerchief and pressed it onto his eyes like a cold compress. He relaxed slightly as the pain reduced a bit. Repeating it twice, he felt good enough to open his eyes.


    The world seemed blurry and his eyes prickled as he took stock of his surroundings again. Startled, he brought out his phone and took a selfie, and studied it.


    His eyes looked horrific, with all the capillaries in the eyeball showing up, making his eyes seem scarily red. The area around it was a blotchy red too.


    He knew that he had gone overboard and using the ability again that night might just blind him. He didn¡¯t want to risk it. He decided to return the next day.


    Leaning against the streetlamp near the drinking fountain, he waited till the dizziness abated and his vision cleared before walking towards the direction he had seen the anomalous patch of clarity in the Dreamland.


    He wanted to understand what the correlation between dreams and reality was.


    Reaching the spot, he was surprised to find another pandal, albeit on that was only the size of a one storey building, a dwarf in comparison to the one at the park.


    It was a local puja, organized by the members of the local club with the donations of the households in the neighbourhood.


    Aman realized the nature of the visions he had seen in the Dreamland thus far¡­


    Before the puja had started, the thoughts of the public had been unfocused and sometimes they gathered together, sometimes they diverged, like the waves in the ocean.


    The scene he had seen with the mountain sized Mahishasura and the Devas was like a tsunami, a result of the collective subconsciousness peaking with one particular scene from the myth as the focus.


    Now, that the puja had officially started and the pandals had been opened to the public, the public¡¯s thoughts weren¡¯t scattered anymore but concentrated into pockets with the puja pandals as the lode stone condensing them together.


    Thus, located around each pandal, the same scene, the one depicted on the idols: Of Devi Durga slaying Mahishasura, was playing out in the Dreamland. The more popular the pandal, the more the footfalls, the stronger the reflection in the Dreamland and the larger the figures of the Deities that fought their eternal war.


    For example, the Mahishasura and Devi Durga he had seen over the Bose pandal was around a hundred metres high. Incomparable to the Kilometre-tall demon that he had seen the first time.


    Aman felt he had grasped an important clue that might lead to the solution of the mystery around Raunak Bose¡¯s actions.

 Chapter 36: Follow up

    Aman yawned and stretched as he rubbed his bleary eyes. He blinked and found that his sight was clear again. Last night, after overusing Divine Vision, he had really hurt his eyes. They had started watering profusely and by the time he had somehow managed to reach home, he was walking half-blind.


    Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t something a good night¡¯s sleep couldn''t cure.


    Scratching his chin, he stumbled his way to the washroom, still half asleep. He¡¯d never been a morning person. Even his assiduous soul cultivation hadn¡¯t shown any signs of altering that part of him.


    He felt a bit more alive after splashing his face with cold water. Squeezing out some toothpaste onto his toothbrush, he set about cleaning his mouth. Filling a glass with tap-water, he rinsed his mouth and spat. Refilling the glass with mouthwash, he took a swig and began gargling.


    [I¡¯M BACK.]


    Aman spewed out the contents of his mouth, splattering the mirror with mouthwash. He hacked and sputtered as he tried to expel the part which had entered his windpipes.


    ¡°Why ¡®ack¡¯ did you ¡®cough¡¯ have to shout!?¡±


    [Pardon. There was an error while calibrating my volume settings.]


    Aman could have sworn that there was a hint of humour in Nama¡¯s voice. Finally recovering from his coughing fit, he glared at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced at the film of blue Listerine covering it.


    As he was cleaning up, he thought his questions at Nama. ¡®So, how¡¯s your progress?¡¯


    [Not as much as yours apparently. Rather, the Indian Institute of Eugenics¡¯ seems to be lagging behind you in the field of Dreamland exploration. Divine Vision. It¡¯s quite the versatile technique.]


    Finishing up with the cleaning, Aman left the washroom and headed to his room. ¡®Well, it¡¯s quite the strenuous technique. Mere glimpses are all I can achieve without severe injury to my eyes. I nearly went blind yesterday.¡¯


    [A result of your poor consideration for safety while testing a new technique.]


    Pushing open the door to his room, Aman entered and shut the door behind him. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. ¡®Yeah. Should have thought it through more.¡¯


    [Agreed. Although, you seem to be forgetting that a mere glimpse is all you actually need.]


    Half-way to his bed Aman stopped, his eyes shining with excitement. He pounded his fist on his palm. ¡®Right. You can retrieve my memories. That means that even a glimpse can be treated like a photograph. I don¡¯t need to strain my eyes to maintain the technique.¡¯A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    [For mapping the real world, that is the case but if you want to scope out the Dreamland, you have to do it in real time. So, once again, it¡¯s a matter of how much abuse your eyes can stand. To promote usage, you¡¯ll have to get some sort of genetic modification for your eyes and for that¡­]


    ¡®I get it. I need to advance my soul cultivation. Sheesh. Don¡¯t nag. I¡¯m working on it.¡¯


    He picked up his phone from the bedside table and unlocked it. No replies from Ananya. He felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. What had he been thinking? Of course, she¡¯d be mad. No one must have ever dared to speak to her so rudely.


    [I see that you¡¯ve been making progress in alienating your benefactors.]


    Aman¡¯s eyes twitched as he gritted his teeth. He tossed the phone onto the bed and flopped down onto it. ¡®Stop being snarky and tell me about your upgrade and then bring up the scan I got of the pandal yesterday.¡¯


    [Aye aye, Captain.] Nama acknowledged, snarkily.


    [The main content of those bits of data I salvaged from the AI of the Spirit Dimension was an almanac that combined all the superstitions and the festivals of India to predict some ¡®safe days¡¯ and ¡®safe hours¡¯ for Dreamland exploration.]


    [Divine Vision renders all that moot, however. But, I gained one new function that might be quite helpful during future Dreamland explorations. By judging the influx of nano-photons from the masses in a particular area of the Dreamland, I can predict how stable the dream in that area is. You do know how dangerous having a dream suddenly collapse with you in it could be, right? Assimilating that took up most of my time during my dormancy.]


    Aman nodded. Calculating Dreamland stability was extremely helpful. His brow wrinkled as he thought of a caveat of the technique. ¡®How exactly are you getting the input required for the calculations?¡¯


    [Your crown chakra of course. So, you need to practice your Path of Heavenly Communion more. The farther you can sense, the better I can predict stability.]


    Aman groaned. Really, nothing in life could be easy now could it? ¡®Anyway, bring up the Divine Vision map of the pandal.¡¯


    A screen suddenly appeared and seemed to float in front of his eyes. On that screen, the glimpse he had of the pandal via Divine Vision was displayed.


    He focused on the image, paying special attention to the tunnels that he had noticed originating from the underground bunker. Nama helpfully zoomed the image and he realized what he was looking at.


    ¡°The sewers. Of course. Why didn¡¯t I think of that sooner?¡±


    [The sewerage system of Kolkata is nearly a hundred and fifty years old this year. If I¡¯m reading your memory correctly, then you¡¯ve seen several news articles on the ongoing renovation of the sewers. It would be quite easy for Mr. Bose to set up several such tunnels if he had some sort of stake in the project or was in a collaboration with one of the contracted companies.]


    Aman nodded and took up his phone. He fired up his browser and typed out several queries into the search engine. It didn¡¯t take him long to find what he was looking for.


    ¡®Bose Pharmaceuticals contracted Nilay Constructions for a stretch of sewerage piping they wanted laid for their factory a few districts away. Coincidentally, Nilay Constructions is one of the major stakeholders in the renovation of the Kolkata sewers. The area they are working on precisely includes the park where the pandal has been built. Bose Parma contracted them in early February¡­ its October now, enough time for them to build those tunnels and the bunker.¡¯


    [We probably have our suspects. Now we just need a convincing way to link our discovery of the bunker to all this information in order to cover up the existence of Divine Vision.]

 Chapter 37: Plan

    ¡°As you said, the shady dealings of Bose Pharma were just detected this year. So, I decided to keep the investigations confined to the time period beginning from January to the present. I went through the major actions and the deals they had cut with other companies. Their collaboration with Nilay Constructions particularly struck me given that they were in charge of renovating the sewers. Looking into them more deeply I realised that they were responsible for the renovation and repair work of the sewers exactly in the area the pandal was located.


    ¡°Too much of a coincidence, no? So, I pulled up the layout for the sewers in that area and went exploring down the manhole. I found a tunnel which wasn¡¯t there before and it seemed to lead to the pandal. I couldn''t check any further, firstly, because I didn¡¯t want to get caught by any drugged up crooks there might be within the depths of the tunnel and secondly, because the tunnel had a grating secured by an electronic lock. I couldn''t get in even if I wanted to.¡±


    Aman brought out his phone and showed Sushil and Ananya the pictures he had taken of the grating with his cell phone.


    After Nama had woken up, he had gone to investigate again. This time, obviously without Ananya coming along as she hadn¡¯t replied to his messages. He had staked out the area for an entire day, firing off his Divine Vision in bursts and investigating the snapshot to see if anyone was passing in and out of the sewers.


    Although, he hadn¡¯t met with any success all day, he had a pretty detailed map of the dubious underground constructions by the time he finally saw a hooded figure enter the sewer from a manhole and go to the underground bunker through one of the tunnels.


    His Divine Vision was too sporadic for him to get a proper idea of what the man was doing in the bunker but it proved that it wasn¡¯t totally unused. That was enough for him. He had little curiosity as to the nature of Mr. Bose¡¯s activities and even less desire to involve himself with the investigations any further than he needed to.


    As soon as the man left and the coast was clear according to his Divine Vision - a really handy ability, that one ¨C he slipped into the manhole the man had used and took some snapshots of the grating. He was done.


    He had immediately called Sushil with news of his lead and that was how he was there, back at Sushil¡¯s hotel suite, presenting his findings with a cooked-up story with leaps of logic that could only have been made if one knew the answer beforehand.


    To his credit, Sushil looked flabbergasted for a much shorter time than Aman had expected and didn¡¯t question him much on his process of investigation. ¡°So,¡± he said, ¡°The result of your investigation is that there is an illegal construction beneath the park and tunnels leading from it to the sewers as channels of entry and egress¡­ Whether or not it is the den of operations, I have to commend you on a job well done. When I gave you the task, all I expected of you was to patrol the area and take note of anything blatantly suspicious. To be honest, I never expected anything to crop up there, much less, the actual core location. Who would have thought that he hid his base in the most crowded of locations? As they say, the most dangerous place is the safest.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He looked at Aman seriously, ¡°If my investigation pays off, you¡¯ll be the recipient of a much larger share of the merits than previously anticipated. Congratulations.¡±


    Aman smiled. ¡°No, thank you, Sir. If not for you giving me this opportunity, how would I have ever managed to succeed?¡± He turned to Ananya. ¡°And thank you for introducing me to him.¡±


    She furrowed her brows and turned away, sullenly. Aman felt a bit awkward as the silence stretched on. Sushil realized that there was some tension between the two of them, so he stepped in to defuse the atmosphere.


    ¡°Well, it appears that tonight will be a busy night. I have called upon my contacts and obtained permission to set up a monitoring system over the manholes in that area as well as rigging the covers with sensors that will alert me whenever they are moved. If someone enters the sewer tonight we will know. Today is Navami, the ninth day of the month as per the Vedic calendar and tomorrow is Dashami, the climax of the Durga Puja celebrations. If their illegal construction has anything to do with the Pujas, as suggested by the placement of the pandal, they should make their move by tomorrow at the latest.¡±


    He turned to Ananya, ¡°Since, you still lack merit points as your contribution wasn¡¯t satisfactory, you can choose to participate in the raid. As you can see, I¡¯m a single person, and though my ability far outstrips the human threshold, I cannot deal with too many people at once, especially when I have no idea as to their details.¡±


    Ananya frowned deeply. If she frowned any more then she might get wrinkles, Aman thought. ¡°You mean to make use of Uncle?¡±


    Sushil shrugged, embarrassed, ¡°Yes, actually, he is quite the excellent warrior and it would be of great convenience if he chose to assist. You¡¯ll get your merits, of course.¡±


    ¡°Won''t that be unethical? The merits were to be earned by me, in person, not by proxy.¡±


    ¡°Well, the circumstances are different, I didn¡¯t expect such a sudden development and on such short notice, I can''t think of a better way to gather manpower than relying on you. Your personal connections are also part of your skill set.¡±


    ¡°But ¨C¡±


    ¡°Fine!¡± he stopped her, ¡°Just think of it as a service to your motherland and ask him to help. You can decide whether or not to accept the merits later.¡±


    For the first time, Aman saw Ananya¡¯s cool fa?ade crack. ¡°Good, good. Good.¡± For a moment it almost seemed like she would cry but she took a few deep breaths and stabilized herself. ¡°I¡¯ll tell him to help.¡±


    Then she strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her leaving the two men to wallow in an awkward silence. ¡°So,¡± said Sushil, ¡°What did you do to get her so riled up at you?¡± Aman shrugged and told him.


    ¡°Pretty tactless of you, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Sushil remarked.


    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk.¡± Aman shot back.


    Then they both sank back into silence. ¡°Yeah,¡± they sighed in unison.

 Chapter 38: Stakeout

    Dashami, the tenth day of the Vedic calendar was coming to an end, the sun setting, dusk covering the land. Yet, it was but a beginning. The beginning of the climax to the nation-wide celebration of the triumph of the forces of good over evil.


    In the eastern parts of India, it was represented by the victory of Devi Durga over Mahishasura, in the northern and western states, the day was called Dussehra and celebrated the victory of Lord Rama, an incarnation of one of the Vedic Trinity: Lord Vishnu, over the Asura: Ravana.


    Ravana, as per the epic Ramayana, was the Ruler of the ancient state of Lanka and one of the most powerful demons in the entirety of Hindu lore. He had ten heads and four arms, each head representing one of the ten Vedic texts, denoting his great learning. His four hands held powerful weapons, denoting his martial might; one of them the divine sword Chandrahaas (smile of the moon) granted to him by Lord Shiva, of whom he was the greatest devotee.


    His rise was, once again, a case of Lord Brahma being too generous with his boons. Impressed by his long and arduous penance and ascetism, he was granted a boon by the Creator of All. Ravana asked for immortality, which Brahma refused to give; in place of this, he asked for absolute invulnerability from and supremacy over gods, heavenly spirits, other rakshasas, serpents, and wild beasts. Contemptuous of mortal men, he did not ask for protection from these. Brahma granted him these boons in addition to his ten severed heads and great strength by way of knowledge of divine weapons and magic.


    The familiar story of conquest and carnage played out among the Three Realms and soon, he had become the Supreme Ruler; the Devas and all of creation his slaves.


    Ravana made the mistake of abducting the wife of the mortal reincarnation of Lord Vishnu, Rama, to retaliate against Laxman, Rama¡¯s brother, who had insulted his sister, thereby shouldering his enmity and finally, resulting in his demise at the hands of the mortal who had rediscovered his Divinity, wielding weapons no mere man could bear to hold.


    Huge straw effigies of the Ten headed Rakshasa were burnt in celebration of his perishing all over Northern and Western India.


    Dashami, Dussehra, Dashain¡­ it was a day of celebration. A day celebrating the victory of good over evil. It was also the day the world was introduced to the forces of evil that lurked in the shadows of society. The day everything changed.


    Aman stood atop the familiar rooftop of the apartment he had first scouted the pandal from. A light breeze ruffled his hair. The stakeout on Navami had been a bust. Only one hooded man had turned up and delved into the sewers, puttered about for a few minutes and then left.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Tracking the man had brought them to the entrance of the Black Market. Sushil had decided to let the man go. Capturing the small fries would do his investigation no good and expose his presence. He wanted to wait until the big man, Raunak Bose, himself made his move.


    It was the final day of the Puja, if whatever plans Raunak Bose had devised involved the Puja, he would act this day.


    Although Aman hadn¡¯t been invited to the raid, he had decided to spectate with Divine Vision.


    If mere speculation could get him a technique as useful as Divine Vision, then what could he learn by observing and emulating a confrontation between real Genetic Experts?


    His eyes flashed with an obscure glow and he had a snapshot of the world in 4D on a mental screen in front of him. Scrutinizing it he could make out the forms of Sushil and Ananya¡¯s chauffeur. They were hanging around the food stalls in casual clothes. As for the bunker, it was still devoid of people.


    The roof was used for drying clothes and there were clotheslines crisscrossing the area. Aman inverted a bucket he found in one corner and sat down upon it, using it as a makeshift stool.


    He pulled up another bucket and said, ¡°Take a seat.¡±


    Ananya, who had been staring out at the roads teeming with people with her arms crossed, shot a glance at the proffered seat, then at him. She walked over and moved the bucket away with her foot, then adjusting her skirt with her hands, sat down facing the railing.


    Silence.


    Aman awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you know?¡±


    She sighed and turned to him, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her interlaced fingers. ¡°For what?¡± she asked with a blank face.


    ¡°Y¡¯know¡­¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± she said, straightening up, ¡°It¡¯s fine. Just a bit of rudeness. I¡¯m over it. Specially now that my incompetence has been proven. My worth, it seems, is as a key to accessing Adhikari resources. Even today, Uncle is the one doing the actual work while I benefit off him risking his life in the sewers as I look on from a ¡®safe¡¯ spot.¡± She turned to look at the pandal again, a frown marring her brows.


    Recovering, she turned and gave him a genuine smile, ¡°Congratulations, by the way. Your success was splendid.¡± He could see the poorly hidden frustration in her eyes.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Aman didn¡¯t know what to say in reply so he kept shut, turning to look at the pandal too.


    Suddenly, their phones beeped simultaneously and they pulled them out. Opening up the mapping app, they noticed three glowing red dots on the screen.


    It was the entrance to the three tunnels that led to the bunker. The red dots meant that someone had breached the manhole and entered the tunnels, setting off the pressure sensors. The dots blinked eleven times in quick succession, the ones representing two tunnels blinking thrice and the final tunnel, four times.


    Very soon, messages from Sushil and the chauffeur pinged on their phones. ¡°Stay put.¡± A quick scan with Divine Vision showed that the two men were on the move.


    It seemed that it was time for action.

 Chapter 39: Tempo

    Sushil made his way to one of the manholes through which three people had entered.


    It was located in an alley out of the way of traffic and pedestrians, a design choice made to minimize the inconvenience to the citizens due to sewer maintenance work. A design choice which had facilitated the operation of whatever shady racket Raunak Bose was running.


    Sushil shot a glance to his right. There, blending with the shadows, moving with an utterly silent gate was the chauffeur of the Adhikari family. Feeling his gaze upon him, the tall dark and silent man glanced at him briefly before turning away.


    Supernaturally silent movement, enhanced senses and a practised knack of moving within shadows. The man was an expert. One comparable in skill to himself.


    Sushil turned his attention back to the task at hand. The man, Ravi as he was called, had given him the cold shoulder. Probably none too pleased with being conscripted to participate in such a dangerous task.


    They reached the manhole and Sushil leveraged it up with the handle. He set it aside, revealing the entrance to the sewers. The dark hole looked like the gaping maw of a beast waiting to swallow them up.


    Shaking off the uncanny feeling, the both of them climbed down the ladder and landed on the sides of the sewer, away from the rill of sludge water that ran through the middle.


    The latest in sanitation technology that included biological filters meant that the cloying smell that had pervaded sewers not so long ago was absent. Yet, the sludge contained enough detergent and household chemicals to render it quite toxic. Sushil didn¡¯t fancy getting his feet wet.


    Ravi dropped down by his side, silently. He had drawn the cover back over their heads, plunging the sewers into darkness. Sushil blinked a few times before his cat-like pupils dilated and his night vision kicked in.


    Ravi brought out a pair of night vision goggles and switched them on. The two of them silently made their way to the grating they knew was the entrance to the tunnel. They had already scoped the place out beforehand and their steps were sure and precise.


    Reaching the tunnel, they were confronted with the obstacle of the electronic lock.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Sushil brought out a small vial of liquid and poured it over the lock while activating a signal jammer at the same time. The lock was wirelessly connected to some sort of alarm. Whenever it was opened, it would send a notification. Just like the pressure sensors Sushil had installed on the manholes.


    The chemical fluid soon ate through the lock and it fell off. The grating swung open silently.


    The two of them stepped into the tunnel that went to the bunker.


    It was a crude construct, just a tunnel gouged out of the earth, really. The crumbly soil of its walls seemed quite unstable, supported by wooden crossbeams.


    The two of them navigated the tunnel to its end, cautiously, on full alert for any sentries. They found none.


    Suddenly, they felt a muffled drumbeat travel through the layers of soil that separated from the ground. The climax of the Puja had begun.


    ***


    Aman heard the first roll of the large drums known as the dhak as he overlooked the pandal from his vantage atop the roof.


    He could imagine the scene in his mind¡¯s eye.


    The interior of the pandal would have been cleared and the purohit (the brahmin priest) would have started his chanting of the sutras praising the Devi.


    The drummers, in their colourful garb, with their large drums slung on their shoulders would be leaping and twirling to the rhythm of their beats as they moved together in a circle in front of the idol of the Goddess slaying her foe. The long feathers attached to their drums fluttering in the breeze of their motion.


    In the centre of the circle, men dressed in the traditional Bengali attire of dhoti and a kurta and men dressed in their saris would be joining their hands in supplication to the Devi. With the first beat of the drums, they would move.


    Censers, earthen goblets filled with camphor and coconut husks would be lit. The thick white smoke from them draping the entire ring of dancers in a haze. Then the men and the women, in the centre of the ring of dhakis (the drummers) would pick up the censers ¨C the dhunuchis ¨C and they would dance.


    It was the traditional dance called the dhunuchi naach. To demonstrate their devotion to the Devi, their love of the Goddess, their gratitude to her, these men and women danced with literal goblets of fire in their hands and for the most experienced and devout of dancers, even held in their teeth.


    The smoke would swirl and roil as they moved to the frenzied beat of the drummers.


    Dhak dhak dhak da-dhak da-dhak dak da-da-dhak da-da-dhak.


    A beat no Bengali will ever forget no matter how far they are from home. Even on the other side of the world with oceans separating them from their hometown.


    They danced, the purohit chanted his sutras, the drummers leapt and twirled as they played the beat that swayed the hearts of the crowd.


    One could not stand in that mass of people, witness that dance, the magnificence of that idol, the opulence of that pandal, feel the hearts of thousands beating to the beats of reverence and remain unmoved.


    Aman was moved.


    Not by reverence, but by horror.

 Chapter 40: Summoning

    In his Divine Vision Aman could see the true nature of what was happening. As the rituals progressed, the Dreamland swirled.


    His technique penetrated the fog of obscurity and showed him the picture that was barred to ordinary men. He saw the souls of thousands resonate at once. He saw the souls rise like a smog from the crowd and merge with the Dreamland.


    He saw the Dreamland solidify, turn more and more real.


    The perpetual battle between the Devi and the Demon seemed to have sailed out of the realm of Fantasy and anchored itself in reality.


    Their battle seemed more life-like¡­ more real¡­ more awe inspiring. More like a true battle between divine beings than a mere image of one.


    Every clash fissured the landscape, every swing of a weapon rent the air.


    As they fought, the world shattered around them and began to reform.


    As the world took shape, Aman realized what it was that he was looking at.


    The streets with nary a streetlamp out of place, the park, the pandal, even the heretofore unclear face of the goddess and the demon was solidifying into the mould of the Idols at the pandal.


    Aman understood what was happening.


    The concentration of so many thoughts and their agreement of what the Devi should look like, aided by the image provided by the idol had given her definition.


    Their size had shrunk from the hundred metre behemoths that they had been before to one comparable to the more reasonably sized idol, but their power had congealed. Every strike and every clash shattering streets and destroying portions of the pandal in the Dreamland, only for the collective subconsciousness to repair it again.


    But all this was not the source of Aman¡¯s horror.


    No.


    The reason he was horrified, the reason his hands had gone clammy with sweat, the reason he was shivering from head to toe was the sight he had seen within the bunker.


    ***


    Within the bunker, Raunak Bose sat completely naked at the centre of the room.


    Surrounding him were the ten others who had entered the bunker with him. Five men, five women. All of them loyal to him to the last breath. Some soul sorcery and hallucinogenic drugs might have been involved in the process of earning their loyalty¡­ but he was satisfied with the results.


    They were the most talented people at soul cultivation he could get his hands on.


    Today, they would finally be put to use, repaying the debt they had accrued to him due to the magnanimous resources he had poured into them.


    They¡¯d be paying off their debts with their lives.


    ¡°Start!¡± he said as he heard the first beat of the drums.


    The men and women paired off into five couples and sat down surrounding him at the five corners of a pentagon.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The carpet that covered the floor of the room had been rolled back, and in the concrete floor, channels had been cut in the shape of a five-pointed star with each of the points connected by a line to form a pentagon.


    Raunak Bose sat within the central pentagon formed by the intersecting lines of the star.


    The ten people disrobed completely, revealing themselves to each other without a shred of compunction.


    They each pulled out a large syringe filled with a pale-yellow liquid and un-hesitantly plunged the needles into the arteries of their arms. They pressed the plunger.


    After all the liquid had flowed into their veins, they discarded the syringes and waited.


    The onset was fast. Very soon, the first man to show symptoms, a strapping young lad of no more than twenty began to shiver and clutched his head. His partner, a woman even younger, with her genes maxed out soon succumbed to the effects of the drug.


    Very soon, all ten of them were writhing about in pain. When they reached out for each other, it felt as if they had touched ice in the hottest of summers or a fire in the midst of sub-zero winters.


    Soon, the moans of intercourse between man and woman rang out from five corners of the pentagram while Raunak Bose remained in quiet contemplation.


    He was an arrogant man. He liked to believe that he was a visionary. A man who could see the universe when he looked up, rather than the mere clouds. He believed that there was more to the Dreamland than merely the imagination of billions of sentient minds.


    He believed that the way the government was going about it ¨C exploring the Dreamland ¨C was wrong.


    Why give up the home-game advantage of reality and explore the Dreamland? Why not bring dreams into reality?


    To that end he had studied as many ancient and esoteric texts as he could get his hands on via his connections.


    After several years of study, he had finally found hope in a transcribed copy of Prelati¡¯s spellbook. The very same book that had inspired Gilles De Rais to murder thousands of infants to fuel his experiments into the art of demon summoning.


    What was a demon? Wasn¡¯t it just a being from the Dreamland?


    What did possession entail? Wasn¡¯t it just this entity taking over the soul of someone when the barriers of the Dreamland wore thin?


    If he could summon and then subjugate a demon, wouldn''t it mean a huge jump in his power level? Each being in the Dreamland, hell, the entire Dreamland was made up of souls after all. Absorbing a chunk would be much faster than self cultivation.


    And, what if the demon retained its powers in the real world¡­ wouldn''t that mean any successful summoner could gain the mythical powers of demons and gods?


    Raunak Bose was convinced. He would open the doors of the Dreamland. He would reopen the Grand Era of Myth and Magic. He would be praised as the man who took the entire human race one step forward. Of course, he would stand above them all.


    From that day, he had worked tirelessly to put flesh on the bones of his plan. Combining European Witchcraft and the Indian art of Exorcism, he had developed a plan. Then worked tirelessly to put it into action.


    The sounds of heavy breathing and slapping flesh filled the room as the occupants indulged in their drug-fuelled orgy. The smell of sex was thick in the air.


    Drugs and sex¡­ these were the two tools he had decided to use to rip apart the barrier between dreams and reality.


    As soul cultivators with Tier 2 density souls, all of them gave off concentrated emissions of nano-photons when they let their soul¡¯s seals loose. That would be the beacon for the entity they would summon. The psychotropic drug would further enhance their brain activity and thereby make the beacon shine brighter.


    The sex would unlock their primal emotions and moods, increasing the intensity of the summon.


    But the final detail¡­ Raunak hadn¡¯t told them¡­


    They were already addicted to the drug and to get a fix, they didn¡¯t mind having sex with each other¡­ they were partners on ordinary days after all.


    If their boss wanted to watch an orgy in a strange underground bunker, who were thy to deny him his fetishes? As long as they didn¡¯t have to endure those horrifying withdrawal symptoms¡­. All was well with the world.


    Just as one of the couples reached climax, moaning out their release, the other four who were on the brink were pushed over the edge as well.


    In the centre of the pentagram, Bose opened his eyes slowly and dispassionately surveyed the scene, the five tangles of sweaty, flushed bodies. It was time. He pressed a button on a remote by his side.


    *shink*


    *shink*


    *shink*


    *shink*


    *shink*


    Five steel spikes rose up from the five corners of the pentagram and impaled the five couples.


    The bunker was filled with screams.

 Chapter 41: Demon

    Bose had extensively studied the effects of psychotropic drugs on the mind; perused innumerable research papers on the topic. He had even taken to supporting drug rings just so he could study the effects of the substances on the human mind first hand, after all, weren¡¯t all these ¡®volunteers¡¯ just waiting to test out his concoctions.


    They were always chasing the newest high and Bose¡¯s drugs were top notch. The best part? Bose didn¡¯t even have to pay them to test out his concoctions¡­ in fact, they were willing to beg, borrow and steal just to get the next hit.


    And if some of the drugs turned out to be a bit too potent and someone stopped breathing? Well, thousands across the world died of overdosing¡­ they wouldn''t be missed.


    With abundant resources and ¡®lab rats¡¯ at his disposal Bose¡¯s research had progressed with leaps and bounds.


    He had found a breakthrough to accessing the Dreamland in the phenomenon known as the ¡®drug trip¡¯.


    Many users of crack, LSD or other hallucinogenic drugs reported having visions and out of body experiences after they had snorted the stuff or pumped their veins full of the nefarious chemicals.


    Bose conjectured that they weren¡¯t so much hallucinating as taking a ¡®trip¡¯ to the Dreamland.


    He had been extremely excited. If an ordinary human mind could access the Dreamland under the effect of drugs what about genetic cultivators? Would their enhanced soul show a different reaction with the drugs?


    He had immediately set about testing it and met success after success in thinning the barriers between the Dreamland and reality.


    But he had soon run up against a bottleneck.


    Though the test subjects could access the Dreamland, but thy could do little within it. Even worse, they couldn''t remember much from their ¡®trips¡¯. Understandable as they were high as kites at that time and their cognitive facilities greatly impaired.


    In fact, the results were far less encouraging than that of the government and its approach of putting people into deep sleep to naturally explore the Dreamland.


    Bose had vague notions of unifying drugs with extreme emotional simulation to somehow rip open a portal to the Dreamland, but he suffered from lacking a proper direction in his research efforts.


    He was but a single man and he was fumbling in the dark, hoping to pick the pebble of success from the mountain of stones of failure.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    It was then that a mysterious organization had contacted him and guided him to Prelati¡¯s Spellbook. It had all fallen into place.


    He had learned that there was an entire hidden force with interests similar to his and resources that could subvert a nation. They had delved far deeper into the Dreamland than he had dared to imagine and they had cracked several of its mysteries.


    If he succeeded in his summoning, he had been promised a post in the organization.


    Thus, filled with fiery ambition, he had begun his preparations.


    The first thing he needed to summon a demon into his body was for the Dreamland to condense. The festival of Durga Puja, specially its climax during Dashami was the perfect opportunity.


    That was why he had plied his connections and built the bunker below the pandal. He had poured his money into the pandal to maximize the footfalls and therefore the degree of condensation of the Dreamland.


    His efforts had paid off, even without the help of drugs, he could feel the presence of the Dreamland all around just with his level of soul cultivation.


    The second problem was ripping open a gap in the Dreamland in order to let the demon enter the real world.


    That was where his previous research had come in handy.


    Pumping his ten soul cultivator subordinates full of his most potent hallucinogen had caused their souls to leak out, generating a conduit to the Dreamland. The sex had been to intensify their emotions and therefore the firmness of the channel.


    As for the spikes currently impaling their screaming and writhing forms¡­


    That was the final part of the ceremony.


    Bright red blood flowed down the screw like grooves cut into the spikes even as the ten figures writhed in pain trying to pull themselves off the sharpened bit of metal.


    Unfortunately, the ends of the spikes were curved backwards like a harpoon and their efforts to pull the spike out just caused their gashes to tear further and large gouts of blood to flow out of their wounds, flowing down the grooves cut into the spikes.


    The blood ran down the channel and fell into the pentagram cut into the concrete floor.


    The pentagram filled with blood, the channel like depressions filling with the crimson liquid like some macabre imitation of ink.


    Bose looked on unemotionally as the men and women with limitless potential writhed and flailed as they slowly bled out.


    One girl had her heart directly pierced and with his senses he could feel her breathe her last.


    His sensation of the soul was special. He sensed souls as scents. Emotions to him were like fragrances.


    Currently, the bunker positively reeked of fear and death. The perfect conditions to summon a demon wouldn''t you say?


    The contrast between the pleasure they had been experiencing through the effects of drugs and sex and the excruciating agony of being impaled further heightened the emotions of the nine survivors.


    Their souls began to riot within their bodies in their desperation to survive.


    Bose took a deep breath. He could smell something new. The scent of the Dreamland.


    It was finally time for him to transcend and join the ranks of the enlightened.


    Opening up his Heaven Chakra his soul gushed out and connected with the nano-photons in the blood-filled pentagram and through it, to the panicked minds of the nine flailing soul cultivators; using them as a conduit to the Dreamland.


    His mind touched a vast and foreign consciousness. It was like he was a drop of water in front of the sea. He smelt curiosity and¡­ hope; all wrapped up within an envelope of anger and bloodthirst.


    For a short moment he wondered whether he had made a huge mistake before his time for ponder was over as the foreign consciousness gushed into his body.

 Chapter 42: Awakening

    Aman watched in horrified fascination as a vortex of nano-photons formed within the bunker filled with blood and death.


    When he had come here, he had expected he might see some blood and violence as the druggies were arrested. Gun control was quite strict in India and even if they had guns by chance, Sushil and Ananya¡¯s chauffeur had assured him that the most they would be homemade guns that shot buckshot.


    Apparently, the two experts had Kevlar undergarments that were impervious to that level of projectile attack. Their physical quality was strong enough to withstand the blunt force trauma associated with that kind of scattershot without even flinching.


    Even if they had somehow managed to procure effective guns, their reaction rates were fast enough to dodge faster than an average man could aim. Plus, they had guns of their own.


    The most they were expecting was a token resistance before the capture.


    A few punches, a few kicks, broken bones or at the most a bullet to the foot of someone especially stubborn.


    But what Aman saw now¡­


    Having lived in peace all his life he had never been exposed to such a bloody scene; such brutality.


    Even in the monochrome, distorted perspective of his Divine Vision the scene looked like one straight out of hell.


    His concentration broke from the shock and his technique dissipated. He reeled back in disgust, turning his head to the side, he retched.


    ¡°What happened!?¡± Ananya asked, concerned.


    After emptying the contents of his stomach, Aman shakily rasped out, ¡°C-all them! Tell them to hurry up! Bose is insane! He¡¯s killing them! He¡¯s killing people in there!¡±


    ¡°What!¡± Ananya exclaimed in disbelief. ¡°What do you mean? How do you know!?¡±


    ¡°Talk later! Just do it please!¡± shouted Aman as he forced his nausea down and reactivated Divine Vision.


    As his other senses faded, his perception of his queasy stomach did too.


    This time, he was more prepared for the gruesome sight.


    As he zoomed into the scene with Nama¡¯s help, he noticed the bloody pentagram surrounding the man and the vortex of souls surrounding him.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡®What is he doing?¡¯ he thought to Nama.


    [I have no idea but it seems like some sort of summoning ritual. That pentagram is one of the most common symbols for demon summoning.]


    ¡®Summoning? But what could he summon? And is he insane!? Sacrificing humans!¡¯


    [I do not claim to have any knowledge of his mental state but purely from the standpoint of practicality, the procedure he is following is quite feasible.]


    ¡®What!¡¯


    [Those people that are bleeding out are soul cultivators¡­ the density of the nano-photons they are giving out on their death wouldn''t be that high otherwise. The way he is going about it, he does have the possibility of succeeding.]


    [Using the festival to concentrate the faith of the public thereby solidifying the Dreamland. Using the death throes of soul cultivators to produce a channel to the Dreamland. The most intriguing part about his process is that pentagram¡­ it is somehow stabilizing the channel to the Dreamland. The nano-photons are reacting to it. How curious.]


    ¡®Don¡¯t admire him! What he is doing is disgusting¡­ but what is he summoning anyway?¡¯


    Aman shifted his vision. With how close the Dreamland and reality was within the bunker, he could keep a fuzzy eye on both. It was like looking at a 3D movie without the polarizing glasses.


    Within the Dreamland, the fight between the Devi and the demon had reached its climax. Mahishasura¡¯s head in his buffalo form had been chopped off. Even as his blood soaked the land he made to lunge towards the Goddess as he always did.


    But right before he made his move, a vortex opened by his side. The demon halted in his tracks as he turned around and studied the portal, his eyes glowing an evil red.


    Aman shuddered. How was that possible? Wasn¡¯t the demon just an idea given form? Shouldn¡¯t the events play out according to a script. It should be a mindless construct, right?


    Then, why did it seem so sentient?


    Noticing that her blow hadn¡¯t killed the demon, the Devi brought down her kharga towards him in a slash that rent the air of the Dreamland with its power.


    Shooting a glance towards her, Mahishasura seemed to smirk before leaping into the vortex.


    Unfortunately, the vortex was too frail to support the entirety of the demon and collapsed even as its head and shoulders entered the portal.


    At the same time, the Devi¡¯s weapon landed on his body, cleaving him in half.


    Roaring in pain and rage, the part of the asura that had entered the vortex stretched and distorted as it, along with the vortex swirled and entered Bose¡¯s body.


    A sense of incongruity hit Aman. It was as if he had suddenly forgotten the name of something familiar.


    This sense of incongruity wasn¡¯t limited solely to him¡­ apparently everyone present felt it.


    The purohit in the pandal faltered in his chants.


    The drummers missed a beat.


    The dancers faltered, one woman spilling some of the embers on herself initiating a bit of panic as people rushed to douse the flames with a bucket of water nearby.


    Confusion spread like ripples through the entire crowd as they scratched their head at the sudden strange feeling.


    Unnoticed by everyone present, the face of the idol of Mahishasura fissured on a microscopic level.


    Within the bunker, Bose screamed as he clutched his head as an indescribable agony assaulted him.


    He writhed around on the floor groaning in pain. The lights within the bunker flickered until they extinguished plunging the place into darkness.


    His struggles slowly reduced in intensity, until they ceased.


    When he opened his eyes, they glowed red in the dark.

 Chapter 43: Fight

    Sushil and Ravi rushed through the tunnel towards the bunker anxiously. They had received a call from Ananya telling them that Bose was killing people in there. When he had asked for the source of her information, she had said that it was Aman who had told her.


    He¡¯d have questions for that brat later. He was full of surprises.


    But right now, saving lives was more important. Even if the information wasn¡¯t correct, he¡¯d rather assume that it was true and give up his advantage of stealth than let some people die.


    It was the same reason why the police cars carried sirens. Ever watched a movie about gangs and street fighting and wondered why the police always blared their sirens as they approached?


    Rather silly, don¡¯t you think?


    If they had come silently, they might have been able to catch the entire gang but due to the siren, the hoodlums had a chance to run away.


    But, was it stupid, really?


    The reason the police cars blared their sirens wasn¡¯t to show off but to warn the criminals of their approach. Even before they reached the crime scene, the sound of the sirens would. How many hoodlums would have the balls to continue fighting when they heard the noise?


    If they hadn¡¯t turned on the siren, maybe they¡¯d be able to catch the whole gang but in the few moments of delay, someone might die in the fighting.


    The job of the police wasn¡¯t to catch criminals, but to safeguard the lives and properties of the people.


    The same logic applied to Sushil. If possible, he wouldn''t allow anyone to die on his watch.


    As the two men finally burst into the bunker, they stopped short at the gruesome sight before their eyes.


    They realised that they had come too late. It was a scene of utter carnage. Ten people, five couples lay impaled on metallic spikes at the corners of a pentagon. Their agonized groans showed that they were still alive as they writhed on the spikes even as their lifeblood spilled out and trickled down the metallic stake, pooling beneath them.


    The blood flowed into channels cut into the floor, filling them up and painting the sanguine design of a pentagram.


    In the very centre of the design, a naked man lay curled up in a foetal position.


    It was Bose.


    Sushil immediately pulled out his gun and aimed at the man. ¡°Put your hands up and surrender, Bose. Your game¡¯s up. Illegal construction, drug dealing and now, human sacrifices for some dark ritual¡­ You¡¯re going to jail. Now, come with us quietly or we won''t mind shooting you up a bit. The Gods know that you deserve it.¡±


    ¡°Gods?¡±


    A deep, powerful voice rang out from everywhere and nowhere. It seemed to be filled with unparalleled might as well as an infinite charm. Sushil and Ravi¡¯s eyes glazed over as they were caught under its spell.


    But, their wills weren¡¯t weak and they managed to shake off the fetters of the voice. They both retreated to the entrance to the cavern and pressed their backs against the wall, sweeping their guns all across the room, trying to figure out the position of the speaker.


    In the middle of the pentagram, Bose slowly pushed himself up from his prone position and stood swayingly.


    Both of them snapped their guns towards him at the sudden movement.


    When Bose looked up, his eyes were glowing red in the darkness of the room. There they stood, gazing at each other from across the room.


    One of the bodies on the stake moaned, breaking the stalemate. Ravi fired. The report of the gunshot rang out in the room, echoing down the tunnels.


    With a clink, the spent bullet dropped onto the ground.


    It had simply bounced off the calf of Bose, without even bruising it.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Hah. Foolish mortal. Don¡¯t you know that I can''t be harmed by a man? After all, you¡¯re the ones who created me. I¡¯m but a mere figment of your imagination. How interesting. Really, this day is just so full of surprises.


    ¡°I conquered hell, I conquered Earth, I conquered Heaven. The three Realms bowed to my might. Ruling over the race that created me? It seems like a worthy goal. Come then, show me what warriors of humanity have to offer.


    ¡°If it is only that toy in your hand, then this world is already mine.¡±


    Sushil swallowed his saliva, repressing his nervousness. He had no idea what Bose was blabbing about but he seemed to have gone insane from the result of whatever fell ritual he had conducted here.


    He shifted his soul sight onto the man to gauge his threat level. In his vision, Bose turned into a swirling mass of greenish-blue.


    His eyes widened in shock. Both he and Ravi had greenish-yellow souls. From his investigation, Bose had a yellow soul at the most. How had he managed to leap nearly two levels within hours?


    What in the seven hells was this ritual?


    He turned to Ravi and they shared glances. Sushil took a deep breath. ¡°You go aboveground and try to evacuate this area and call for reinforcements. I¡¯ll hold him off for as long as possible.¡±


    Ravi turned on his heel and ran outwards. But just as he was about to take a step, with a rumbling sound, the tunnel collapsed. No, not only that tunnel, all three of the tunnels leading out of the bunker collapsed, filling the now sealed room with a plume of dust.


    ¡°What did you do!?¡± hissed Ravi.


    Bose simply smirked with his arms crossed before his chest. ¡°How could I possibly let two such delicious morsels escape? The tunnels had been rigged with small explosive charges in the supporting crossbeams. I had meant for it to be a quick fix for demolishing this base after I was done with it. Never imagined I¡¯d seal myself in.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane!? There''s two metres of soil above our head, not to mention the pandal. How will you escape? Dig yourself out?¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Bose said, smirking.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s quite stupid. With the ruckus created by the collapsing tunnels, people will soon come to investigate. You¡¯ll be discovered by the time you make it out.¡± Said Sushil.


    ¡°I¡¯m so touched that you worry for me so¡­ but the ones you should worry about are yourselves.¡±


    Suddenly, his form blurred and he reappeared in front of Ravi, grasping to his face with his hand outstretched in a claw. His speed nearly exceeded Sushil¡¯s ability to react to it.


    Just as Sushil managed to turn to Ravi, he saw a form flying away from him in a blur and hitting the opposite wall of the room while Ravi remained unmoved.


    The only damage on him was the left-hand sleeve of his clothes.


    It had shattered and revealed the genetically modified arm underneath.


    Unlike a normal arm, with two bunches of muscles in the upper arms and the forearms, it had two continuous strips of muscular tissue running from the shoulder to the wrist. One in the back of the arm, the other in the front.


    Right now, his arm was straightened out in a fist.


    He had apparently punched Bose right across the room.


    Sushil had heard of this sort of modification. It was done with the mantis shrimp as the model. The two forelegs of the shrimp could snap out with an explosive force strong enough to create super cavitation bubbles underwater.


    It had been calculated that if the muscle within them was scaled up to human size, the man would be able to throw a baseball fast enough to send it into space.


    That was all theoretical of course and the bones of the arm would snap even before anything close to that happened.


    But, after the gene era had arrived, there had been a lot of research into strengthening a human body beyond the limits of 10 strength.


    Several solutions had been proposed with one of them being using the genetic code of the mantis shrimp¡¯s muscles to remake the human arm.


    It had been partially successful. The gene ampoules developed allowed for the arm to have a huge explosive force but it could only be used once or twice in an hour as the muscle tired really fast.


    Also, the strength of the punch was great but it was far from the theoretical projections.


    Which, was actually a good thing as even with this reduced strength, the user of the gene ampoules had to undergo surgery to have his or her arm bones reinforced with carbon nano-tubes to withstand the reactive force of the blow.


    Also, it was damn expensive.


    Sushil himself had chosen a cheaper option where his key muscles had been replaced by muscles made to the template of his jaw muscles. The muscles of the jaw were the strongest in the human body. Although they tired easily, they were very good for short explosive fights and grappling techniques.


    He had also had some of his muscle groups replaced with the muscle structure found in his heart. These additions seriously bumped up his endurance as these muscles nearly never got tired.


    Thus, he had chosen a very balanced build for his modifications. And since all the genes needed for it came from his own body, the compatibility was really high and it was the perfect base to build on.


    Unlike Ravi, who had become a one trick pony, he could branch out in various directions as the need arose.


    He turned to look at the cloud of dust which covered the form of Bose.


    After taking that kind of hit, even if he had some strange technique to negate impact, the man would suffer severe internal injury. If he was lucky.


    He was probably dead though.


    The dust cleared, showing the form of the man.


    Behind him the dirt wall had been cracked up by the force of his body¡¯s impact on it. To their great surprise, he stood up shakily and spat out a gout of blood. When he looked at them, the both of them took a step back at the sight of the bloodlust in his red eyes.


    ¡°Good. Very good. Although your punch didn¡¯t injure me, my impact with the wall did. I underestimated the both of you. It seems that I¡¯ll need to squeeze a bit more use out of my dear disciples. Hahaha.¡±


    Listening to his maniacal laughter, the two of them felt their hairs stand on end.

 Chapter 44: Cannibal

    Bose walked over towards one of the writhing pairs of impaled bodies. The man had been pierced through his stomach and the spike had passed through his spine, severing it. His lower half had been paralyzed and he had lost control of his bowels.


    The stench of his voided bowels had joined the copper tang of blood that permeated the room.


    The woman beneath him, on the other hand had been spiked through a lung and every one of her breaths was painfully laboured and she frequently coughed blood even as she struggled to get the man off her, only aggravating his wound in the process as the serrated edges of the spike shredded the edges of his wound further.


    When Sushil and Ravi had come in, they had found some semblance of hope.


    When they had punched Bose into the wall, they had dared to grasp that optimistic thought.


    But now, as they heard the man¡¯s slow footsteps as he walked over to them, they felt nothing but desperation and fear. Their hearts pumped harder from their fear and their wounds spurted blood under its increased vigour.


    They turned their pleading gazes to Sushil and Ravi, begging them with their eyes for salvation from the approaching devil.


    Sushil clenched his teeth and stamped his foot down hard on the ground to rein in its shivering.


    ¡°Stop right there!¡± he exclaimed as he took a step forward.


    Bose shot him a disdainful glance without even slowing his tread.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± he cursed as he pulled the trigger repeatedly.


    *Bam*


    *Bam*


    *Bam*


    *Bam*


    *Bam*


    *Bam*


    The smoking gun fell out of his lax grip as he watched the unharmed monster slowly turn to face him.


    This time Sushil hadn¡¯t bothered to shoot at his legs.


    All six were headshots.


    Bose¡¯s head was bent at ninety degrees, his neck clearly broken from the force of the shots.


    But there wasn¡¯t a single scratch on him.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    In his soul sight, Sushil had seen the bullets be rebounded by a sort of glimmering vortex that surrounded the man. The barrier had blocked the bullets from shattering his skull and even negated a large part of the impact but the part that had gotten through had been enough to snap his neck.


    With a grin that made Sushil take an involuntary step back, Bose reached up to his head and with a sickening crack, set it straight.


    He shrugged his shoulders and turned his head from side to side to test the range of motion.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get so impatient. I¡¯ll play with you soon enough once I¡¯m done with them.¡±


    Then ignoring Sushil, he continued over to the impaled couple.


    Sushil knew that whatever Bose wanted to do wouldn''t bode well for either them or the rest of the unfortunate occupants of the sealed chamber but he couldn''t bring himself to snap out of his fear-paralysis in time to stop what happened next.


    Reaching the unfortunate souls, Bose knocked them out with two sharp strikes to the backs of their heads, then dislocated his jaws to open his mouth wide and chomped down on the head of the man.


    ***


    Aman gagged and vomited out the contents of his stomach as he saw what was happening in the bunker using his Divine Vision.


    There was currently pandemonium on the streets.


    Just as Bose had triggered the explosion that had collapsed the tunnels, the streets above the tunnels had also lost the support of the earth beneath them and the asphalt had cracked and sunk along the line of the tunnel.


    In the crowded square, that had disastrous effects.


    The vibrations of the explosions and the sinking streets had sparked panic among the crowd. Fearful of an earthquake, they had just wanted to escape the area as soon as possible, triggering a mass stampede.


    The police were trying their best to restore order but they were hopelessly short staffed and in the few moments of the stampede, several lives had been already been lost.


    In the eyes of Aman, their fear and panic had risen like dark clouds from them, the miasma getting sucked into the bunker and then into Bose¡¯s body like water through the drain port of a sink.


    ¡®What the FUCK is he doing!? He is EATING them!¡¯


    He bent down to vomit again.


    [Uhh¡­ I am not very clear as to the purpose of this random act of cannibalism but I am sure that you have realized as well that he isn¡¯t human anymore. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d agree that he has been taken over by the soul of Mahishasura that he summoned from the Dreamland. And I believe that according to myth, the demon ate humans¡­ This probably has something to do with that.]


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± asked Ananya, concerned as she continued to dial Ravi¡¯s number, worried about his safety after the tunnels collapsed.


    ¡°Fine¡­ just squeamish after seeing the stampede¡­ people dying and all¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ well, I guess I just can''t believe that its all real. From this height, they all look like ants and I can¡¯t really picture them. Just¡­ how the hell did you know about what was happening in the bunker? You said something about Bose killing people there then the tunnels collapsed. Can you see inside? How!? Actually, forget about that¡­ what¡¯s happening now?¡±


    ¡®Nama¡¯


    [Well¡­ this could go both ways¡­ You tell her and trust her to keep it a secret. Or, you tell everyone that it¡¯s a special ability you developed after coming into contact with the Dreamland and hope that the mysterious organization doesn¡¯t link you to me and the Indian Institute of Eugenics doesn¡¯t dissect you. The first option, if she breaks your trust, you¡¯re totally screwed¡­ The second option is too risky. The third option¡­ toss her over the railing and then blame her death on the stampede. Sushil and Ravi won''t be leaving that bunker alive if Bose has truly fused with Mahishasura. That vortex of nano-photons protecting him implies that the effect of the lore still holds true for him.]


    [He is invulnerable to the attacks of men and the last time I checked, the both of them still had dicks in their pants.]