The morning after their tense meeting in Mumbai's rain-soaked boardroom, Arjun Kapoor and Noor Al-Bakri boarded a sleek private jet bound for the Persian Gulf. The aircraft cut through monsoon clouds, leaving behind the churning Arabian Sea for the sapphire expanse below. Arjun, 28, sat rigidly in his tailored navy suit, his sharp jaw set, haunted eyes reflecting a storm of grief and vengeance. Two months of hunting his father's killer had led to Noor's revelation: Aryan Kapoor, India's richest man, was a proxy of Sound, killed in his Satpura cube by the God of Darkness, India's legendary punisher of the corrupt. Arjun's suspicion of Noor and her shadowy allies lingered, but his resolve to wield their power for revenge burned fiercer. Noor, in a tailored black suit, her dark hijab framing a face of poised calculation, sat across from him, her silence a careful mask.
The jet descended toward a private island, a speck of emerald in the Gulf's turquoise waves. A fortified compound awaited, its obsidian walls gleaming under the desert sun, runes pulsing faintly along its surface. Disembarking, Arjun and Noor were ushered through a labyrinth of steel corridors, the air humming with encrypted tech, until they reached a vast chamber. The room was a fortress of shadow and power—obsidian walls swallowing light, a circular table glowing with dormant holographic projectors, and a faint crackle of electricity in the air. Khalid Al-Mansour, proxy of Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar, and neighboring Gulf states, stood at the center, his white ghutra framing sharp eyes that sparked with his Lightning primordial. His presence was commanding, a storm contained in a tailored robe.
"Mr. Kapoor, welcome," Khalid said, his voice crackling like distant thunder, warm yet edged with authority. "I am Khalid Al-Mansour, proxy of Lightning, one of 25 who govern the world's shadows. I sent Noor to find you, heir to your father's legacy."
Arjun's gaze was piercing, his voice steady but guarded. "You're Noor's master. She says my father was a proxy like you, killed by the God of Darkness. I'm here for his power—Sound—to avenge him. Tell me who you are, what you rule, and why you're helping me."
Khalid gestured to a seat, his smile calculated to ease Arjun's wariness. "Sit, and I'll explain. I rule Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar, and the Gulf states—nations bound by wealth, faith, and ambition. As Lightning's proxy, I wield storms—electricity to power cities, disrupt enemies, or strike with precision. My methods are order and influence: I shape economies, guide leaders, ensure stability. My chamber, this fortress, is a hub of encrypted networks, connecting the Council's will across 200 nations. Your father, Aryan, was my equal, his Sound bending minds across India, Bangladesh, Nepal, and beyond. His death by the God of Darkness threatens that order."
Arjun sat, his eyes never leaving Khalid's. "You knew my father. Noor says you offer me his power. Why? I don't trust you or your Council. What's your stake?"
Khalid's lightning aura flared briefly, casting jagged shadows across the obsidian walls. "A fair question. I cannot control Sound, nor any power but Lightning. Each proxy is bound to one primordial—mine is storms, your father's was Sound. The God of Darkness, a rogue proxy, disrupts our balance, and your father's domain—eight nations—is now a wound. I offer you Sound's contract to restore it, not for us, but for you to prove your worth as Aryan's heir."
Arjun's brow furrowed, his intelligence probing. "Prove my worth? Noor framed it as vengeance. How does this contract work? You say you can't control Sound—then how do I get it? And why should I believe you won't control me?"
Khalid's smile was steady, his voice calm but resonant. "The contract is between you and Sound itself, a primordial force, not me. I'll mediate, call upon Lightning to commune with Sound, to present you as its proxy. If Sound accepts, you'll wield its power—vibrations to sway minds, command loyalty, shape nations. Only Sound will bind you, not the Council. You'll be my equal among the 25, answerable to no one else. My stake? Stability. Your father's fall risks chaos; you'll mend it."
Arjun leaned forward, his voice cold. "My father was killed. I don't care if he was corrupt or a titan—I'll make the God of Darkness pay. If Sound gives me that power, I'll take it. But I'm watching you, Khalid. When do we start?"
Khalid's eyes gleamed, a spark of lightning within. "Tonight, in this chamber. I'll Contact Lightning to speak with Sound. If it agrees, you'll become its proxy, heir to your father's might. Rest now—vengeance awaits."