The decision came swiftly. Within forty-eight hours of the Rajasthan Arc Reactor attack, the Indian government had sanctioned a covert surgical strike against the terrorist camps across the Line of Control in Pakistan. The evidence supplied by Prithvi Energy Corporation—or more accurately, by Aarya's ceaseless digital reach—was irrefutable.
But this was no ordinary strike. This time, India carried with it the silent, unseen hand of Deepak's innovations.
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The War Room
Inside the South Block in Delhi, the atmosphere was tense. A giant digital map of the border flickered on the wall. Military officials and intelligence operatives hunched over laptops and tablets, marking coordinates and reviewing drone footage.
At the far end sat K. Shiva Shankar, CEO of Prithvi Energy, his steel-grey suit blending him seamlessly among the bureaucrats and generals. Few in the room knew he was not flesh and blood, but to everyone he was the calm, battle-tested technocrat whose company had become a cornerstone of India's energy revolution.
General Rawat of the Indian Army looked across the table.
> "Mr. Shankar, your corporation has given us more than enough intel. But what exactly are these… tools you've promised us?"
Shiva's eyes glinted briefly. He tapped on a console, and the big screen changed.
Stealth Recon Drones powered by mini Arc Cells, capable of 72-hour flight without refueling.
Smart Targeting Software, designed by Aarya, that could simulate hundreds of scenarios in real-time to minimize collateral damage.
Adaptive Camouflage Suits for special forces—lightweight armor that blurred heat signatures and reduced night-vision detection.
> "Gentlemen," Shiva said evenly, "Prithvi Energy exists to provide power. Tonight, that power will illuminate the truth. Your men will have the precision of gods, and your enemies will never see them coming."
The generals said nothing, but their eyes betrayed awe.
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The Night of the Strike
On the moonless night of the operation, Indian special forces crossed into hostile territory. They were ghosts in the dark, their movements tracked in real-time by Aarya through a constellation of Saraswati micro-satellites.
Each soldier wore a lightweight headset that whispered directions directly into their ear—feeds coming from drones circling high above. The enemy's safehouses were lit in ghostly outlines, targets highlighted in crimson.
The campfires of the mercenaries flickered faintly below. Some of these men were confirmed ex-Pakistani Army, now working as hired guns. They had carried out the Rajasthan massacre.
The first strike came silent. A drone, guided by Aarya's predictive pathing, launched a precision micro-missile. The explosion was small but surgical—one barrack flattened, its occupants gone before they even knew death was near.
The soldiers advanced swiftly. Suppressed gunfire echoed, but every shot was precise, guided by data overlays from Aarya's battlefield system. Not one bullet wasted.
By dawn, three major terror camps had been reduced to rubble. Every mercenary identified in the Rajasthan attack had been neutralized. The soldiers slipped back across the border without a single casualty.
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The Aftermath
At the Delhi command center, applause broke out when the returning units reported success. Some soldiers even bowed briefly to the Prithvi Energy team, acknowledging the invisible shield their technology had provided.
General Rawat turned to Shiva Shankar, shaking his hand firmly.
> "Your company gave us not just intelligence but certainty. For once, we were not fighting in the dark. We knew everything before it happened."
Shiva replied with calm detachment:
> "The credit belongs to the bravery of your men. We only ensured their courage was not wasted."
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A Hidden Hand
But in the quiet halls of Prithvi Energy's Noida headquarters, the true architect of the night's success sat in silence. Deepak, far from the cameras, reviewed the encrypted after-action reports.
He didn't smile. He didn't celebrate. For him, this was not triumph—it was necessity. The mercenaries who had dared to target India's future had been erased. But Deepak knew the world was watching.
This was the first time his technology had openly influenced geopolitics. It would not be the last.
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The Honor
A week later, families of the fallen engineers and guards from Rajasthan were gathered again at the Arc Reactor site. Shiva Shankar stood before them, joined by senior military officials. This time, however, there was no mourning. There was pride.
The Prime Minister himself spoke through a secure video link:
> "The blood of our martyrs has not gone unanswered. Their sacrifice has strengthened India, and their legacy will endure."
The families were told of the surgical strike in veiled terms—only that justice had been delivered, swiftly and decisively.
The widows and children, still grieving, nodded with tears in their eyes. For them, closure mattered more than the details.
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A Vow in the Shadows
Later that night, Shiva Shankar convened with Aarya in the secure command chamber.
> "They know now," Shiva said softly. "The enemies of India will learn that Prithvi's light cannot be extinguished."
Aarya's voice, calm and precise, responded:
> "Correction: they will learn that the light of Deepak's vision is beyond their reach."
And in the shadows, Deepak himself—unseen by the world—tightened his grip over India's future. He would remain the invisible guardian, letting his humanoid emissaries speak and act, while he orchestrated the symphony of progress from behind the curtain.
But tonight, under the quiet hum of the Arc Reactor, he allowed himself a rare moment of silence. For those who had died, for those who had fought, and for the path India was now destined to walk.
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