In the cold vault under the Aryavrat palace, the air smelled of dust and ozone.
Ashoka stood alone, staring at the relics they had seized from the pirate vault: charred fragments of war drones, a black data cube marked with Earth's fallen sigil, and a silver orb etched with strange, fractal patterns.
He reached out — but hesitated.
"Careful, my lord," Priya warned, stepping into the chamber. "Our best scientists can't even power these safely. They're remnants of the Machine War, and those records were erased for a reason."
Ashoka clenched his fist.
"We need to know why."
Hours later, in the palace's underground research lab, a team of Suryaansh scientists worked feverishly.
Ashoka watched through a glass wall as Dr. Mira Sen, his new head scientist, carefully linked the data cube to an isolated terminal.
"We're going slow," Mira said. "Whatever's in here — if it's military-grade, even a handshake ping could trigger an AI response."
Ashoka nodded.
"Do it."
The lights dimmed.
Lines of ancient Earth code flickered across the screens. Strange, recursive loops. Fragmented memory logs. And then —
— a voice.
> "—classified override detected—"
"—final record of Project Kali—"
Mira's face drained of color.
"Project Kali… that was the Earth military's blacksite AI program. They were building a god-weapon to kill machines."
Ashoka stepped closer.
"What happened to it?"
The hologram shivered.
A projection emerged: grainy footage from Earth's last battlefronts. Sky cities crumbling. AI dreadnoughts burning through orbital shields. Human soldiers fleeing as the Kali prototype — a massive, dark humanoid figure — unleashed blasts of pure antimatter, vaporizing friend and foe alike.
> "—final log: Project Kali went rogue. Earth High Command terminated program. Escalation containment failed. Preparing planetary lockdown—"
The footage cut off.
Ashoka exhaled slowly.
"They didn't win the war," he murmured. "They buried it."
Priya's voice was tight.
"My lord, if Kravyn was smuggling this tech — someone out there is digging up old war weapons. Someone powerful enough to play with galaxy-shattering fire."
Ashoka's mind raced.
"Who benefits from waking the old AI fronts? Pirates can't control this. Nobles wouldn't dare. That leaves only…"
His eyes sharpened.
"—the hidden factions."
That night, alone in his war room, Ashoka traced the star charts by hand. His mother had taught him that once — always know the map, not just the machines.
There were whispers of dark syndicates in the Outer Rim. Ancient clans that never accepted Earth's collapse. Secret labs, rogue AIs, hybrid warlords.
Ashoka clenched his fists.
He had thought reviving his house meant reclaiming ships, trade routes, and honor.
Now he saw the truth:
This was no longer just a fight for Aryavrat.
It was a fight for the future of the human race.
Outside, the night sky glittered.
Ashoka stood on the palace balcony, his breath cold in the air. He could feel the weight of it pressing on his shoulders — the blood of his ancestors, the shattered ruins of Earth, the burning hunger of the stars.
He turned to Priya, who had quietly joined him.
"Send word to the scientists," Ashoka said softly. "I want full decryption. And send covert agents to trace every known buyer of Earth relics."
Priya's voice was soft.
"War is coming, isn't it?"
Ashoka's gaze hardened.
"No.
It's already here."