The morning sun bathed the AD Tech complex in a warm, golden hue—but there was tension beneath the surface that no light could smooth away.
As teams from dozens of architecture and design firms crowded outside the grand lobby, the air buzzed with anticipation, gossip, and veiled arrogance. One team stood notably apart: DA Studio, a newly formed but fiercely committed crew of young professionals led by none other than Dhiviya.
Today, they weren't presenting one project.
They were presenting five.
Six proposals, two shortlisted for a single tender—making them the only firm allowed to pitch multiple designs for the same development. It was unprecedented. It was bold. And it had turned every rival firm's head.
Including Sally Brown's.
Sally, dressed in an ivory blazer that whispered money and menace, leaned against a polished pillar near the lobby entrance. Her arms were crossed. Her eyes were hawks.
And then it happened.
Dhiviya stepped forward alone, leaving her team behind. She walked toward the front security desk—where a high-ranking staff member stood waiting.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a slim, jet-black ID card with a platinum seal embossed across the top.
A special pass.
Not just any pass—a VVIP -level internal clearance, the kind that opened upper floors and closed conversations.
The guard gave a respectful nod and waved her through without a word. The crowd barely noticed.
But Sally saw it.
Her chest constricted.
That's a top-tier ID. Who gave her that? Who is she meeting?
She swallowed hard, the edges of her smile cracking. It was happening. Her nightmare in slow motion. She watched Dhiviya step confidently into the exclusive elevator reserved for board members and executive visitors.
The steel doors closed.
And Sally—without realizing—started biting her fingernails, a nervous habit she hadn't touched in years.
Upstairs — AD Tech Executive Floor
While other firms scrambled in the waiting halls, Dhiviya entered the near-silent top floor where frosted glass corridors echoed with authority. A few guards nodded as she passed. No one questioned her. No one dared.
She arrived at the Chairman's Office. She smiled. Athavan had finished cooking before sunrise, just like he used to during early development pushes for the company. He'd insisted she deliver the package herself.
And as she approached the tea table, arranging the food neatly near the couch, again the room door opened.
Guna slipped inside—eyes darting in all directions like a fugitive.
"Aish, Akka, why'd you come here like that?" he hissed.
"I had to make a thousand excuses to sneak up here without raising suspicion. Later, during the presentation—pretend like you don't know me, ok?"
Dhiviya chuckled and tousled his hair.
"What? Embarrassed by your awesome sister?"
"Aiyo, stop messing my hair!" he groaned.
"You know they prepared staff breakfast today. Why bring this?"
"Because it's from your mama," she said simply.
Guna blinked.
"He… cooked?"
"He got up at four. Packed it himself. Said it was for you—the future CEO of AD Tech."
Guna stared at her, dumfounded. Then, silently, he began eating.
The food warmed his chest—but her words ignited something deeper.
"He keeps saying I need to learn from the bottom, lah," Guna mumbled between bites.
"But right now, I'm just running around patching cables and swapping batteries. It's hard to break into the core development team. They keep everything super P & C. They treat me like an office boy then Software developer."
Dhiviya's smile faded into something softer—wiser.
She reached over, fixed his collar, and looked into his eyes.
"You know why he started you here?" she asked.
"Because everything handed on a silver plate eventually loses its shine. But when you earn something with grit, when you bleed for it, build it layer by layer... it's yours forever."
Her voice dropped lower.
"You think your mama became a legend by shortcut?
Let me tell you a secret—when he said he'd give you this company someday…
He wasn't joking."
"He told you his identity as 's Vishwakarma, Guna but you thought it was a joke. I will tell you now. He is really the real one. Inventor, architect, scientist. His identity is guarded by nations. But he told you the truth. Because he trusts you and me.
Not just as family—but as future."
Guna's hand trembled slightly as he held the spoon.
"He's done more for us than you even realize," she continued.
"And the truth? It's heavy. Our family history is shrouded. Even Appa and Uncle Raja Sekaran real origin been a secret they've shielded us from."
"Because we're not ready.
Not yet."
She reached for his hand.
"When your mama first time came to our home, i still remember his stone like face and emotion. Then i realize he was carrying so much of pain and burden with him. He and our appa too, they are not willing to share it with us because we are too weak.
"But when we strong enough maybe they will.
If we grow stronger. If we change. If we step out of comfort and into capability."
"I know you miss your old life. The gaming marathons. The late-night teh tarik. The laziness.
But this…" she gestured around the office, "is real now.
And I need you to rise with me."
She stood.
"Today I go downstairs to face giants—whales, sharks, wolves in suits.
And I must build my empire to stand next to him as capable queen. This is my war…
It's a trial for me to prove my worthy."
As she exited, she paused at the door.
"Let your fire wake up, Guna. I'll handle the heat out there today. But someday, you'll carry the torch too. Let's ignite the fire within us."
Then she disappeared out from Chairman room.
Guna sat on the sofa, frozen.
He turned, gazing at the high-backed chairman chair suddenly look like a heavy throne that ruled powerful empire. He felt an illusion like Athavan seating there gazing at him.
Then he whispered…
Vishwakarma.
The name struck differently now.
His mind drifted—back to the man who walked barefoot into their house. The man Guna teased in perfect English. The yogi who swept temple floors. The stranger who slept on the floor without complaint.
And who today… commanded nations through innovation.
A chill ran through him.
He's always been more than I saw.
Suddenly, he felt like Athavan wasn't just a man anymore—he was a titan, casting his shadow across the world.
"Would i able to be a capable general to shoulder his burden one day?" he whispers this question to himself.
His phone buzzed. His supervisor.
"Where are you? Meeting Room 3—now!"
"Yes sir! Coming now, sorry! I was just… delivering something."
He shut the box of food, wiped his hands.
And walked to the elevator—no longer like a tired intern… but like a man becoming.
A flicker had been lit.
And this time?
He'd let it burn.