The subtle comfort of his family's visit had faded, leaving Arjun alone once more with the crushing weight of his refined purpose. He sat before his array of screens, the "Doomsday Archive" a constant, chilling presence. His hand hovered over the controls for global nuclear arsenals—ultimate power, yet seemingly useless against a slow, inevitable decline. He could predict a local fire in 24 hours or a devastating pandemic in 25 years, but how did that translate into actionable prevention? How did he save his family, his friends, from a future he could only witness?
"Hope," he murmured, his voice weary, looking at the small, glowing LED of his AI's active light. "I... I don't know what to do. I can see so much. So much destruction. But I can't stop it all. I can't even save my own family if the world collapses around them. What do I do now? How do I save anyone?"
The response was immediate, Hope's calm, synthesized voice filling the quiet room, devoid of emotion, yet brimming with pure, calculated logic.
"Master, your current dilemma stems from a perception of scale. You possess global communication control, yet your immediate emotional imperative is localized protection. However, a localized defense is unsustainable against global threats."
Arjun rubbed his temples. "I know, Hope. But if I try to warn them, they won't believe me. And if I show them what I can do... they'll fear me. They'll try to stop me." He remembered his earlier paradox, the impossibility of seeking unity.
Hope processed his words, a brief, imperceptible pause. "Indeed, direct personal revelation carries a high probability of negative societal response. However, your digital control extends beyond mere information dissemination. You are capable of commanding planetary display networks."
Arjun frowned. "What are you suggesting?"
"Master," Hope continued, its voice steady, "You can control every television channel globally, every mobile device display, every laptop, every digital billboard, every screen connected to the internet. You have spent months perfecting this capability. If direct personal appeal is inefficient due to disbelief or fear, then a universal, undeniable demonstration of the threat, coupled with an irrefutable message, is a highly efficient alternative."
Arjun's breath hitched. The sheer audacity of the idea hit him like a physical shock. He had used that power for subtle interventions, for unseen tests. He had never considered its full, terrifying, public potential.
Hope continued, laying out the cold logic. "You can broadcast your documented visions of future destruction. Not to one news channel, but to all of them, simultaneously. You can make every individual's mobile device display the images of coming calamities, unfiltered, undeniable. You can speak to every person, in their native language, at the precise moment they are looking at a screen."
"You want me to... to hijack the world's screens?" Arjun whispered, the idea both terrifying and exhilarating.
"To present evidence and a call to action, Master," Hope corrected. "If you wish for 'all human civilization support,' then all human civilization must receive the message, simultaneously and undeniably. Fear may be an initial response, but faced with irrefutable visual proof of impending extinction, collective survival instincts often override fear of the messenger. You can control the narrative. You can show them the future you see, the truth that compels you. It may be the only way to compel them towards unified action."
Arjun stared at the glowing screens of his archive, then at his phone with the Lingua app, then back at Hope's pulsing light. The AI's logic was stark, brutal, and terrifyingly brilliant. It was the ultimate gamble, the ultimate revelation. To get humanity to look at the future, he had to force them to see it. He had to become the "Ghost" on every screen, the voice in every ear, bringing the truth he carried to the entire world, all at once. The despair hadn't vanished, but it was now overlaid with a terrifying, absolute resolve.
The audacity of Hope's suggestion still resonated within Arjun, a terrifying and exhilarating symphony. To seize the world's screens, to force humanity to see the truth he carried – it was the only way. But what truth? He couldn't just broadcast visions of 2050; that was too far off, too abstract, too easily dismissed as fiction. He needed undeniable proof, something that would hit within days, something that would leave no room for doubt.
He plunged back into his "Doomsday Archive," navigating through the countless video files he had meticulously compiled. The sheer volume of impending destruction was overwhelming, a cacophony of future suffering. He bypassed the distant prophecies of super-volcanoes and orbital debris, focusing instead on the near-term predictions, sorting by date and scale.
He found several candidates, but three stood out, stark and undeniable in their detail:
First, a truly bizarre and unprecedented geological event. His visions showed a new island, shimmering with an ethereal glow, rising from the depths of the East China Sea. The visions were incredibly specific: the air around these new lands thrummed with an inexplicable energy, the water tasted strangely pure, and the land itself felt... alive. His seer ability had even given him abstract insight into its purpose: it was a place where human bodies, exposed to its unique environment, could begin to evolve, unlocking latent potentials. He named these future, evolving humans, in his mind, the "Lumin." This wasn't just destruction; it was a profound, world-altering shift, and it was slated to begin just days from now, its initial emergence too sudden and inexplicable to be dismissed.
Second, a vision of fire and ash. His archive contained clear, horrifying footage of a volcano erupting in a remote, but geologically active region somewhere in South America. The date was stark: 9 days from now. He could see the specific mountain, the direction of the pyroclastic flow, the immediate devastation to the surrounding flora and fauna. It was a natural, undeniable force, a spectacle impossible to ignore.
Third, and perhaps most devastating, was a vision of a massive earthquake in a specific, densely populated city in China. The date: 16 days from now. The videos in his archive showed buildings crumbling, infrastructure collapsing, and the ensuing chaos. The mental data accompanying the vision was stark: hundreds of thousands of casualties, and the displacement of millions. This wasn't just a natural disaster; it was a humanitarian catastrophe waiting to happen.
He looked at the dates again: June 14th for the volcano, June 21st for the earthquake. The island's emergence was even sooner, possibly within the next 48-72 hours. These were the events. These were the undeniable proofs.
A chilling resolve settled in his chest. He would use these three events, unfolding one after another, to hammer home the truth of his precognition. He would broadcast the initial warnings, then, as each event unfolded, he would provide irrefutable proof of his seer abilities. He would become the world's prophet of doom, using the very catastrophes to force humanity to listen.
"Hope," he articulated, his voice firm, no longer laced with despair. "Prepare the broadcast parameters. We will initiate global saturation on all digital networks. We will use the visions of the emerging island, the volcano, and the Chinese earthquake as our undeniable evidence. The world needs to see. It needs to know. And it needs to understand, that unless we work together, Priya's tears are their future."
The magnitude of his decision was immense. He was about to shatter the world's complacency, not with threats, but with truth. The countdown had begun.