June 1–June 15, 2018
The Birth of Atomic Decomposition Research
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A Whisper in the News
On June 3rd, tucked into the Lifestyle & Leisure section of a Mumbai tabloid, a headline appeared:
> "Mystery Billionaire Buys Private Island for Engagement."
The article contained grainy paparazzi photos of a stretch of shoreline lit with lanterns, a glimpse of a woman's silhouette, and the vague claim that the man was "an Indian tycoon no one has ever heard of, rumored to be richer than Ambani."
But the media had nothing else. No names, no verifiable facts, just speculation. A handful of gossip channels replayed the story for a day before moving on to celebrity divorces and cricket scandals.
For the world, it was just another piece of background noise in the endless churn of news.
Only a very few — India's Prime Minister, a couple of close aides, and his inner circle of humanoid executives — knew the truth. The man who bought the island was Deepak, the same mind behind Shakti Semiconductors, Saraswati Corp, and Prithvi Energy.
And while the outside world speculated about rings and champagne, Deepak's mind was already on Unnao.
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The Land Between Cities
The town of Unnao, nestled between Lucknow and Kanpur, had long been known for leather industries and dusty roads. But in June 2018, trucks began arriving, escorted by quiet convoys. Locals noticed convoys of scientists, engineers, and heavy equipment arriving daily, yet no government official gave explanations.
By June 5th, an entire research city was beginning to rise: wide laboratories, underground test chambers, dormitories for visiting scholars, and a gleaming administrative block with Shakti's emblem.
This was to be the headquarters of Advanced Materials & Atomic Research Division (AMARD), a new subsidiary of Shakti Corporations.
It was placed in Unnao for a reason — halfway between IIT Kanpur and Lucknow University, connected by roads and rail, yet secluded enough for secrecy.
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Vision Beyond Silicon
While the world thought Deepak's arc reactors and semiconductors were his peak achievements, he was already planning something more radical:
Atomic Decomposition Machines: Devices designed to break down pollutants, plastics, and industrial toxins at the atomic level, restoring them to harmless base elements. A cure for India's poisoned rivers.
Atomic Painters: Nanotechnological systems capable of rearranging matter atom by atom, allowing precise material creation, from self-healing buildings to futuristic alloys.
In short — the power to control matter itself.
Deepak told Ananya one evening on the island, as they watched the tide roll in:
> "Engagements, weddings — the world loves stories. Let them talk. But history will remember this decade as the one when we stopped pollution not by cleaning it, but by rewriting matter itself."
Ananya didn't fully grasp the physics, but she grasped the heart. He wasn't chasing power. He was chasing permanence.
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Gathering the Minds
On June 7th, a quiet fleet of black SUVs rolled into Unnao. Inside them were not celebrities, but scientists — professors from IIT Kanpur, IIT Delhi, IISc Bangalore, and young prodigies pulled from obscurity.
Over 200 of India's greatest minds stepped into the newly built auditorium. For many, this was their first meeting with peers outside their silos.
At the podium stood Arjun Rao — humanoid, flawless in his mid-40s appearance, a commanding presence dressed in an understated grey suit.
His voice carried through the hall:
> "You have all been invited because you represent the best this nation has to offer. For too long, India's minds have gone abroad in search of resources, recognition, and freedom. Today, that ends. Here, in Unnao, you will have unlimited resources, no bureaucratic hurdles, and the full power of AI-driven computation through Aarya. You are free. Your only mandate is to imagine."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then applause broke out — thunderous, long, almost cathartic. Some scientists had tears in their eyes.
A senior ISRO scientist whispered:
> "This… this feels like Takshashila reborn."
A young PhD student muttered to a friend:
> "I thought I'd have to leave India to dream. Now, I don't."
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The Facility
The labs in Unnao were unlike anything they'd ever seen.
Quantum Simulation Halls: rooms where Aarya's AI models could predict atomic reactions in real-time.
Nanofabrication Clean Rooms: sterile white spaces where atomic painters could be prototyped.
Decomposition Chambers: thick-walled, shielded units where pollutants could be broken down safely.
AI-Augmented Libraries: every scientific paper, every dataset in history, at their fingertips.
It wasn't just a lab — it was a city of science. And Deepak spared no expense.
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First Prototype Test
On June 12th, the first atomic decomposition chamber prototype was unveiled.
Inside its sealed core, a vial of highly toxic tannery wastewater — Unnao's own curse — was placed. The chamber activated with a low hum, beams of quantum resonance targeting the bonds within the molecules.
Ten minutes later, the vial was pulled out.
The scientists leaned over — and gasped. The liquid inside was clear water.
One of the chemists tested it on the spot.
"pH neutral… no heavy metals… it's… drinkable."
Someone whispered:
> "We just watched poison turn into water."
Arjun Rao stepped forward calmly.
> "This is only the beginning. Next, we scale. Rivers will follow."
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The Engagement as Cover
Meanwhile, back in Goa, a journalist pitched a story to her editor:
"Sir, this is big — a billionaire, private island, secret engagement. Don't you want to run this on the front page?"
The editor shook his head.
"Without a name? Without proof? We'll look like fools. Stick it in the entertainment section."
And so the biggest personal milestone in Deepak's life remained just a whisper in the gossip pages, a shadow story no one could verify.
This was exactly how he wanted it.
The attention was elsewhere — while in Unnao, history was being written.
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Ananya's Reflection
Back on the island, Ananya looked over the architectural models of Unnao, the sprawling labs, and the river-cleaning prototypes.
"Sometimes," she told him, "I think you don't belong to me, or even to yourself. You belong to the world."
Deepak kissed her forehead gently.
> "No, Ananya. The world only gets what I give. You are the only part I keep."
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Closing Scene
June 15th. Midnight in Unnao.
The labs were still alive with light. Scientists worked in shifts, excitement buzzing through the halls. In the decomposition chamber, another test ran — this time on a liter of Yamuna river sludge. It came out as clean water.
Deepak stood on the balcony of the central research tower, looking out at the glowing city of science he had birthed.
The newspapers might chatter about mystery engagements, but he knew the truth:
The real engagement was between India and its future, and the vows were being written in the language of atoms.