The digital clock on the nightstand shifted to 5:00 AM.
The master bedroom of the Shamshabad estate was entirely dark. The heavy blackout curtains blocked the early morning light. The central air conditioning hummed a low, steady frequency.
Siddanth Deva woke up. He did not use an alarm. His internal circadian rhythm, managed by the Perfect Rhythm passive skill, brought him out of his sleep cycle at the exact optimal moment of his REM phase. He opened his eyes. He felt no grogginess. His mind was immediately sharp.
He lay under the heavy cotton sheets. He was entirely naked.
He turned his head slightly. Krithika lay next to him. She was fast asleep, her breathing slow and even. Her back was turned to him, the thick quilt pulled up to her shoulders.
Siddanth moved carefully. He lifted the edge of the sheet and slid out of the bed. He stepped onto the hardwood floor, keeping his weight balanced to prevent the floorboards from creaking. He walked quietly to his side of the walk-in closet.
He found his inner wear and put it on. He grabbed a pair of dark grey training shorts and a moisture-wicking black t-shirt. He pulled them on quickly. He picked up a pair of fresh athletic socks and his custom-molded bowling spikes. He did not put the shoes on inside the room.
He walked to the bedroom door, turned the handle silently, and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him until the latch clicked.
He sat on the top step of the teakwood staircase and laced up his spikes.
He walked down the stairs. The farmhouse was completely silent. The estate staff would not begin their shifts for another hour. His parents were still asleep.
Siddanth opened the back doors and stepped out into the cool, pre-dawn air of the estate. The humidity of the previous night lingered. The grass was wet with dew. He walked down the paved stone path, heading toward the back of the property.
He reached the cricket nets. He unlocked the side door and walked inside. He hit the main breaker switch on the wall panel.
The overhead LED floodlights snapped on with a loud clack, flooding the green turf with glaring white light.
Siddanth walked to the bowling crease. He walked down the pitch and hammered a single wooden stump into the grooves at the batting end.
He picked up a bucket of red Dukes cricket balls. He carried them back to his run-up mark.
He picked up the first ball. He held it in his right hand. He ran his index and middle fingers along the pronounced, hand-stitched seam.
He closed his eyes.
Siddanth started his run-up. He built his momentum gradually. He hit the popping crease. He locked his wrist firmly behind the ball. He snapped his arm over and released the delivery.
The ball traveled down the pitch at 135 km/h. It pitched on a good length, held its line for a fraction of a second, and then jagged sharply to the right. It missed the single wooden stump by four inches.
Siddanth frowned. He walked back to his mark.
He picked up the second ball. He repeated the action. He released the ball. It pitched and swung late. It clipped the very edge of the stump.
He bowled the remaining four balls. He hit the stump twice. He missed twice.
He stopped. He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.
He pulled up his System interface. The holographic screen materialized in his field of vision. He navigated to the template roster.
[Template Profile: James Anderson]
[Mastery Level: 40%]
Siddanth stared at the number.
Following the IPL Final victory against the Royal Challengers Bangalore, the System had granted him an automatic 5% increase as a major tournament reward.
That brought the total to 35%.
Since the IPL final, the progress had been slow. The percentage was increasing at snails pace during the Caribbean Test tour or the recent home matches against New Zealand and England.
Siddanth processed the logic behind the stagnation.
He currently possessed four high-tier templates. Brett Lee was locked at 80%. Jacques Kallis was locked at 80%. AB de Villiers was locked at 80%. Shivnarine Chanderpaul's was locked at 80%.
The System had limited bandwidth. Integrating the biomechanics, the muscle memory, and the neural pathways of five different elite international cricketers into a single human host required immense computational and physiological overhead. The host body could only adapt so fast.
Furthermore, Siddanth recognized a secondary variable. He had spent the last three months almost entirely away from competitive cricket. He had focused on his wedding, corporate acquisitions, and the launch of the Nexus Sports Foundation. He had bowled in the nets, but net sessions did not provide the high-stress, match-simulation data the System required to force an evolution in the template.
He needed to bowl in high-stakes matches. He needed the pressure of a live batsman. He needed the specific environmental variables of a five-day Test match to increase the pac of synchronisation.
Siddanth dismissed the holographic interface. He picked up the bucket, collected the six red balls from the other end of the pitch, and returned to his mark.
He spent the next hour bowling. He did not chase pace. He focused entirely on his wrist position at the point of release. He worked on keeping the seam perfectly upright. He bowled seventy deliveries. By the end of the hour, his shoulder ached, and his t-shirt clung to his back, soaked in sweat.
He gathered the equipment, turned off the floodlights, and walked out of the facility.
The sun had risen over the estate. He walked back to the main house. He entered through the back door and climbed the stairs to the master suite.
He opened the bedroom door.
The bed was empty. The sheets were thrown back.
He heard the sound of running water coming from the attached master bathroom.
Siddanth walked into the room. He felt the heavy exhaustion of the bowling session settling into his legs. He walked over to the bed and lay down on his back on top of the quilt. He stared at the ceiling.
He closed his eyes, intending to rest his eyes for two minutes while he waited for Krithika to finish her shower.
The quiet hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic sound of the shower water created a white-noise effect.
Siddanth fell asleep instantly.
He did not dream. He simply dropped into a heavy, dark rest.
Ten minutes later, the sound of the shower stopped. The bathroom door opened.
Siddanth did not wake up. He remained fast asleep on the mattress, his breathing slow and rhythmic.
Suddenly, a cold, sharp sensation hit his face.
Siddanth's eyes snapped open. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. He felt small drops of cold water resting on his cheeks and forehead.
He sat up on his elbows. He looked toward the source of the water.
Krithika was standing a few feet away, positioned in front of the large, full-length mirror attached to the wardrobe.
She wore a deep green cotton saree with a simple red border. The pleats were tucked perfectly. She held a thick, dry white towel in her hands. Her long, dark hair was completely wet, cascading down her back.
She held the ends of her wet hair in her left hand. She raised the heavy towel in her right hand and slapped it firmly against her wet hair, driving the moisture out.
Smack.
The impact of the towel against her wet hair sent a spray of fine, cold water droplets flying backward across the room. Several droplets landed directly on Siddanth's face.
Smack.
She hit her hair again. More water flew across the room.
Siddanth wiped the water from his face. He watched her in the mirror. She was focused on drying her hair, humming a quiet tune under her breath. She had not noticed that he was awake.
Siddanth stood up from the bed. He walked silently across the hardwood floor. His steps made no sound.
He stopped behind her.
He raised his arms. He wrapped them around her waist, pulling her back firmly against his chest. He lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the bare, damp skin of her neck, right below her ear.
Krithika gasped slightly, dropping the towel. Her hands instantly came up to grip his forearms.
"You are awake," she said, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
"You threw water on my face," Siddanth replied, his voice a low rumble. He tightened his grip on her waist, moving his lips along her jawline. His hands slowly slid upward along her stomach, moving toward her ribs.
Krithika felt his hands moving. She reacted instantly.
She reached down to the dresser. She picked up a comb.
She brought the comb down sharply.
Smack.
She hit the knuckles of his right hand with the flat side of the wooden comb.
"Ow," Siddanth flinched, pulling his hands back. He rubbed his knuckles. He looked at her in the mirror.
"Not now," Krithika instructed firmly, pointing the wooden comb at him in the mirror. "I have to go downstairs. My mother-in-law is waiting. We have to do the morning pooja."
"The pooja can wait ten minutes," Siddanth reasoned, stepping forward again, wrapping his arms back around her waist. He pressed his face into her shoulder.
"It cannot wait ten minutes," Krithika argued, trying to pry his arms open. "If you do not stop, I will be late. And if we do something, I have to take a bath again."
Siddanth ignored the logic. He kissed her neck again, his hands tightening.
Krithika stopped struggling. She stood perfectly still. She looked at his reflection in the mirror. She adopted an expression of calmness.
"Siddanth Deva," Krithika said. Her tone was flat. It carried zero negotiation. "If you take one more step, I will go take a bath. I will do the pooja. And then, there will be zero physical contact between us for one week. Seven days. No exceptions."
Siddanth froze. He stopped kissing her neck.
He looked at her in the mirror. He assessed the threat level. He knew her personality. He knew her stubbornness. If she set a boundary, she enforced it ruthlessly. A seven-day embargo was a catastrophic tactical error.
He slowly unclasped his hands. He took a step back.
He let his shoulders slump forward. He widened his eyes slightly, dropping his chin, executing a flawless expression of sorrow. He deployed the sad puppy look.
"You used to be fun," Siddanth muttered quietly, looking at the floor. "Before we signed the marriage papers. You changed."
Krithika turned around. She looked at his slumped shoulders and his exaggerated sad expression. She burst out laughing.
"You are a terrible actor," Krithika laughed, picking up her towel. "Emotional blackmail does not work on me, Siddanth Deva. Go take a shower. You smell like sweat and artificial turf. Come down for breakfast when you are clean."
Siddanth dropped the act. He smirked. He turned and walked into the bathroom. "I will negotiate the terms of this embargo later."
"Shower!" Krithika ordered, walking out of the bedroom and heading downstairs to the pooja room.
Siddanth took a quick shower. He changed into a pair of dark jeans and a plain black shirt. He walked downstairs.
He entered the dining room. His father, Vikram, was sitting at the head of the table, reading the financial newspaper.
"Morning, Nanna," Siddanth said, pulling out a chair.
"Morning, Siddu," Vikram replied without looking up. "The markets are stabilizing. The cash flow shortage from the demonetization is finally easing up in the rural sectors."
Sesikala walked out of the kitchen carrying a hot idlis. She placed it on the table.
"Eat," Sesikala instructed, handing him a plate.
Siddanth poured a ladle of thick, spicy sambar over them. He ate quickly and efficiently. Krithika walked into the dining room ten minutes later, having finished the morning rituals. She sat opposite him and started her breakfast.
Siddanth finished his meal. He drank a glass of water. He stood up.
"I have work," Siddanth announced to the table. "I will be in the basement."
He walked out of the dining room. He navigated the back corridor of the farmhouse, pressed his thumb against the concealed biometric scanner, and stepped into the hidden elevator.
The elevator descended. The steel doors opened.
The blast of freezing, eighteen-degree Celsius air hit him. He stepped into the subterranean server room. The liquid-cooling pipes pulsed blue. The hum of the massive server racks filled the space.
Siddanth walked to the central workstation. He sat in the heavy leather chair. He hit a key on the mechanical keyboard.
The two ultra-wide monitors flared to life. The blue geometric waveform appeared on the center screen.
"Veda," Siddanth said.
"Good morning, Boss," VEDA replied, her synthetic voice echoing from the ceiling speakers. "I have compiled the overnight progress reports across all active corporate divisions. Where would you like to begin?"
"Entertainment division," Siddanth instructed. "Show me the render status from the animation studio."
"Accessing NEXUS Animation Studio secure servers," VEDA stated.
The left monitor switched from the blue waveform. It displayed a highly complex, 3D architectural wireframe. It was a massive, sprawling jungle environment. Giant trees with thick, twisting roots dominated the landscape. Deep ravines cut through the terrain.
"This is the Tataka Vana," Siddanth noted, looking at the layout.
"Correct," VEDA confirmed. "The environmental design team finalized the structural geometry yesterday. They initiated the primary lighting render. I took over the processing load to optimize the output."
The wireframe on the screen vanished. It was instantly replaced by the fully rendered, high-definition environment.
The visual fidelity was staggering. The lighting was dark and atmospheric. Rays of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy in sharp, volumetric shafts. The textures on the tree bark looked hyper-realistic, covered in damp moss and hanging vines. Small digital dust particles floated lazily in the light shafts.
"Check the frame rendering speed," Siddanth ordered.
"The proprietary Aether Engine is operating at peak efficiency," VEDA reported. "Average rendering time per 4K resolution frame has been reduced to 11.4 seconds. The hardware cooling systems at the Hitec City studio are maintaining optimal thermal limits. The animation team is currently working on the fluid dynamics for the river sequences."
"The lighting matrix is approved," Siddanth decided, analyzing the shadows. "Tell the art director to proceed with the character integration for this specific environment. Start placing Rama and Lakshmana into the scene for the combat blocking."
"Directive sent to the Art Director's terminal," VEDA confirmed.
Siddanth turned his attention away from the animation. He needed to pivot to the heavy industrial sector.
"Close the entertainment files," Siddanth instructed. "Open the mobility division workspace. Load the LML Kanpur acquisition assets."
[A/N: From here on Don't ask me any questions, because I don't know what is being written]
The right monitor flared to life. It displayed a rotating 3D CAD (Computer-Aided Design) model of a generic, outdated petrol scooter.
"This is the legacy chassis the LML factory was producing before bankruptcy," Siddanth observed. "It is bulky. The center of gravity is too high. Strip it."
"Executing," VEDA replied.
The digital model on the screen broke apart. The plastic fairings, the internal combustion engine, the exhaust pipe, and the fuel tank vanished. Only the bare, tubular steel skeleton remained rotating on the screen.
Siddanth pulled a digital drawing tablet across the desk. He picked up the pressure-sensitive stylus.
He closed his eyes.
The shift in his cognitive processing was violent and immediate. The limitations of standard human visualization dissolved. He did not just see lines on a screen; he saw spatial geometry, aerodynamic drag coefficients, and weight distribution physics simultaneously.
He placed the stylus on the glass surface. He began to draw.
His hand moved with terrifying, mechanical precision. He did not erase. He did not hesitate.
"We do not use a standard tubular frame," Siddanth muttered, speaking rapidly as he drew. "It lacks structural rigidity for the battery weight. Veda, alter the chassis to a cast aluminum alloy twin-spar frame. It cuts the weight by twenty percent."
"Updating material parameters," VEDA replied. The skeleton on the screen thickened, shifting from steel tubes to solid aluminum beams.
Siddanth drew a large, rectangular box at the absolute bottom of the frame, resting directly beneath the floorboard.
"Battery placement," Siddanth stated. "We do not put the battery under the seat. We place it on the floorboard. It lowers the center of gravity drastically. It improves handling and cornering stability. The battery pack must be modular. Solid-state lithium-ion. Removable for external charging."
"Calculating volumetric space," VEDA processed the drawing. "The floorboard cavity can accommodate a 3.5 kWh battery pack. Estimated range: 120 kilometers per charge."
"Sufficient for urban commuting," Siddanth nodded, his hand moving to the rear wheel.
"No chain drive. No belt drive," Siddanth ordered, sketching a compact cylinder directly into the center of the rear wheel. "Hub-mounted electric motor. IP67 water and dust resistance rating. Direct power delivery to the wheel. It eliminates transmission power loss and reduces maintenance to zero."
He moved to the front of the vehicle. He began drawing the exterior body panels. He abandoned the curved, bulbous look of traditional Indian scooters. He drew sharp, aggressive, geometric lines. He integrated a sleek, flush LED light bar across the front apron instead of a standard round headlight.
He drew a massive, 7-inch digital TFT display on the handlebars.
"The dashboard is not just a speedometer," Siddanth explained to the AI. "It is a smart console. It runs a localized version of Jnana OS. It pairs via Bluetooth to the user's Nexus phone. It displays turn-by-turn navigation directly on the screen. It tracks tire pressure, battery health, and service intervals."
Siddanth finished the drawing in less than forty minutes. He dropped the stylus.
The screen displayed the final 3D render of the Nexus EV Scooter. It looked futuristic, aggressive, and entirely practical. It did not look like anything currently on the Indian roads.
"Save the design," Siddanth ordered, leaning back in his chair. "Export the CAD files to the engineering team heading to Kanpur. Tell them to begin retooling the assembly lines for this specific chassis."
"Files exported," VEDA confirmed.
Siddanth did not stop. He picked the stylus back up.
"Load the Hindustan Motors Uttarpara facility layout," Siddanth instructed. "Open a new blank canvas. We move to the four-wheeler segment."
The screen cleared. A blank grid appeared.
"We are not building a petrol car converted to electric," Siddanth stated, his mind utilizing the future knowledge of EV architecture from his previous timeline. "We do not need an engine bay. We do not need a transmission tunnel running through the cabin. We start from the ground up."
Siddanth drew a large, flat rectangle. He placed four wheels at the absolute corners of the rectangle.
"The Skateboard chassis," Siddanth defined. "The entire battery pack forms the structural floor of the vehicle. It creates maximum cabin space. The wheelbase is long, but the overhangs are extremely short."
He drew two compact cylinders on the front and rear axles. "Dual-motor all-wheel drive setup for the premium variant. Single rear motor for the base variant."
He moved to the exterior design. He focused on aerodynamics. Range in an electric vehicle was directly tied to drag.
He drew a sleek, sloping hood. There was no front grille because there was no massive radiator to cool. He angled the windshield sharply. He drew the door handles flush against the body panels, programmed to pop out electronically, reducing air resistance. He designed aerodynamic wheel covers.
He drew the interior. It was stark minimalism. No buttons. No dials. Just a steering wheel and a massive, 15-inch central touchscreen interface mounted in the center console. The screen controlled the AC, the media, and the vehicle settings.
Siddanth worked continuously. He detailed the suspension geometry. He outlined the crumple zones for crash safety. He worked with relentless, unbroken focus.
He finished the preliminary exterior and interior design of the first Nexus EV SUV.
He dropped the stylus onto the desk.
He let out a long, heavy breath, rubbing his temples. The spatial geometry faded from his active mind.
"Save the car designs to the encrypted vault," Siddanth ordered, his voice sounding tired. "Do not export them to the engineering teams yet. The Uttarpara plant requires six months of robotic retrofitting before we can even begin prototyping the chassis. Keep it locked."
"Designs secured in the offline vault," VEDA confirmed.
"Give me the status on the remaining projects," Siddanth requested, leaning his head back against the leather chair and closing his eyes.
"The Nagole Smart Stadium construction is progressing optimally," VEDA reported. "The subterranean concrete pouring is finished. The steel superstructure for the spectator stands is currently 40% complete. The Chief Engineer predicts the roof installation will begin in three months."
"Good. The Foundation?"
"The Nexus Sports Foundation executed the monthly stipend transfers without error on the first of the month. We currently support 214,000 verified athletes across all three tiers. Furthermore, twelve athletes successfully utilized the Nexus Health Card for surgical procedures at partnered hospitals last week. The invoices were settled automatically."
Siddanth nodded slowly. The machine was working. The money was flowing to the grassroots.
"And Trinetra?" Siddanth asked quietly.
"Project Trinetra remains active on the isolated defense servers at South Block," VEDA stated, her tone entirely analytical. "I do not have direct access to its output logs due to the hard-coded air gap. However, based on encrypted metadata traffic exiting the defense nodes, the software patch is executing its predictive algorithms continuously. The government is utilizing the system."
"Let them use it," Siddanth murmured.
He opened his eyes. He checked the digital clock on the bottom right corner of his monitor.
It was 2:30 PM.
He had been sitting in the subterranean server room, locked in focus, for exactly four and a half hours.
His stomach let out a loud growl, completely breaking the serious atmosphere of the room.
Siddanth sighed. He stood up from the heavy leather chair.
"Shut down the workstation, Veda," Siddanth instructed.
"Shutting down, Boss," the AI replied. The two ultra-wide monitors went black.
Siddanth walked to the elevator. He pressed his thumb to the scanner. The doors opened. He stepped inside and rode the elevator back up to the ground floor.
He walked into the hallway and headed straight toward the dining room.
The house was quiet. The lunch hour had passed. He walked into the kitchen.
Krithika was standing near the marble counter. She was holding a Tupperware container, placing leftover rice into the refrigerator.
She turned around as he walked in. She looked at him. She noted his tired expression and his messy hair.
"You were down there for four hours," Krithika said, closing the refrigerator door. "I thought you got trapped in the elevator."
"I was designing a scooter," Siddanth stated simply, walking over to the sink to wash his hands.
Krithika raised an eyebrow. "A scooter. You locked yourself in a freezing basement for four hours to draw a scooter?"
"It is electric," Siddanth defended his actions, drying his hands on a towel. "It requires complex battery placement. I also designed a car."
"Of course you did," Krithika laughed softly, shaking her head. She walked over to the stove. She picked up a heavy, covered steel dish.
"Athamma left an hour ago," Krithika informed him, placing the steel dish on the dining table. "Before she left, she noticed you didn't come up for lunch."
Krithika pulled the lid off the dish.
Sitting inside was a massive portion of hot, fragrant white rice, completely covered in a rich, dark, heavily spiced mutton curry.
"She specifically told me to make sure you ate the mutton," Krithika smiled, handing him a plate. "She said you needed the protein for your brain."
Siddanth looked at the mutton curry. The rich aroma of the roasted spices hit him instantly. His extreme hunger spiked.
"She is a visionary," Siddanth declared, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
He served himself a massive portion of the rice and meat. He mixed it with his fingers and took a large bite. The spice burned his mouth perfectly.