The entire planet watched.
From the smallest villages carved into Aryavrat's dusty ridges to the towers of the rebuilt capital, all eyes turned skyward.
The launchpad at Shaktivan roared to life.
Ashoka stood on the command balcony, his armor polished in deep sapphire blue, the Suryaansh crest gleaming on his chestplate. Behind him stood Priya Dharan, Admiral Viraj, and Dr. Iqbal Varshney, each tense but burning with purpose.
They were about to give the galaxy its first warning.
On the platform below, the Vikas-1 loomed — a massive industrial cruiser, twenty decks tall, bristling with modular arms, forge-lathes, plasma welders, and docking bays. It wasn't a warship, not yet. But it was a seed.
The seed of a future fleet.
The ship's hull shimmered in the dawn light, its blue-silver armor woven with new alloys born from Priya's stolen scientific teams. Engines pulsed with Agni Core energy, a marvel that Earth's treaties had long banned — but Ashoka cared little for the dead hand of Earth now.
A deep rumble shuddered through the valley.
"Status report," Ashoka said.
"Final diagnostics cleared," Priya answered. "Fuel cells at ninety-five percent. AI co-pilot online. Orbital tethers releasing."
Admiral Viraj smirked. "It's an ugly beast, Lord Ashoka."
Ashoka gave a small smile. "So was Aryavrat once."
He tapped the command console.
"All units — launch."
The ground split with light.
Jetstreams of plasma ignited, searing the atmosphere as Vikas-1 rose. Its shadow swept over miles of land as citizens raised their fists in cheers. Children screamed with joy; old veterans wept.
For the first time in decades, Aryavrat was sending something up instead of watching the skies rain destruction.
Inside the cockpit, Captain Meera Rajan, the first woman to command a Suryaansh ship in a generation, tightened her gloves and barked out, "Stabilize pitch! Heat shielding holding! Agni Core running hot!"
Outside, pirate warbands in the asteroid belts picked up the signature.
On rival noble planets, sensors lit up.
And far, far away — in the cold, distant sectors where the Earth-AI treaty lords still ruled — hidden satellites recorded, analyzed, and worried.
Back on the command balcony, Ashoka felt a hand on his shoulder.
Priya.
"We're officially on every map again," she said softly.
"Good," Ashoka replied. His eyes stayed locked on the ship as it breached the atmosphere and roared into the void.
"Because now they'll all know what's coming."
That night, in the shadows of the old palace, Ashoka stood alone beneath the stars.
He reached up, fingers curling into a fist.
Vikas-1 was just the first. More ships would follow. More forges, more factories, more warriors. His people would no longer scavenge for scraps among the stars.
They would forge their own fate.
And soon, when the time came, they would march to war—not as a fading house clinging to old glory, but as a rising empire ready to burn a new path through the galaxy.
Ashoka closed his eyes.
Mother, he thought, I will not fail you.
The stars above seemed to blaze just a little brighter.