Inside, he tossed his bag onto the bed and collapsed into the chair, letting the weight of the day sink in. For a moment, he thought about just shutting his eyes, letting the hum of the ceiling fan wash everything away. But it didn't feel like the right time for that. Something from the Ridge still clung to him, not physically, but like a splinter in thought.
His phone buzzed on the desk. The group chat lit up, Naina, Aman, and Aanchal.
Aanchal:So? How was your noble mission to save Delhi's forests?
Aman:Bet he just collected two wrappers and posed for Insta.
Naina:Guys, stop. Let him breathe.
Aanchal:Breathe? This guy probably didn't even notice the trees.
Shivam stared at the screen for a few seconds before typing back:
Shivam:Yeah, hilarious.
Three dots appeared, then vanished. No one replied after that.
He set the phone face down and opened his laptop, the screen's cold glow spilling into the room.
His room was dim except for the pale glow of his laptop screen. The fan whirred above, slicing the silence into even rotations. He had tossed his bag onto the bed without unpacking it, opened the browser, and typed the first word that had been needling him since morning:
SynerTech.
Search results bloomed instantly, sleek websites, press releases, magazine covers with a man in a tailored suit smiling like he owned the future. The company's homepage greeted him with a looping video of wind farms, solar arrays, and lab-coated researchers holding beakers up to the light. The tagline glowed in clean, corporate font: Building Tomorrow Together.
He clicked through the tabs. Energy. Infrastructure. Defense. SynerTech's "recent ventures" page read like a government dream list, clean hydrogen production, smart-grid urban projects, satellite-based resource mapping. Every paragraph was padded with buzzwords: sustainability, innovation, collaboration.
A news article from last month caught his eye:
"SynerTech Secures Exclusive Defense R&D Corridor Contract" , a joint partnership with the central government to develop "non-lethal crowd control" and "urban defense readiness."
He leaned back in his chair. The phrase sounded too close to the "control foam" his father had mentioned over tea a few nights ago. Another article, this one from an international tech magazine, praised their breakthroughs in adaptive drones and "precision environmental scanners", devices capable of mapping bio-signatures across large areas in seconds.
His mind flicked back to the Ridge clearing. The hum. The shimmer of blue light. Bhumika swaying beside him. Everyone else hitting the ground.
Not heat fatigue. Not by a long shot.
He scrolled further, press photos of SynerTech's CEO shaking hands with ministers, UN delegates, and even a couple of faces he recognized from foreign defense expos. Global reach, unstoppable growth, a clean image. Nothing out of place.
And that was the problem.
Shivam closed the laptop halfway, resting his hands on the keyboard. The fan's steady hum above him gave way to another memory, one that didn't fit neatly in any news article.
The Metro.
That day, years ago, when he and the others had been caught between two worlds, the rush-hour train, the sudden shift, the way the lights had flickered out before everything changed. He could still see the other passengers' faces, the panic, the screams when the station fell away into that fractured skyline of Noctirum.
And then… nothing.
When they came back, it was like stepping out of a dream in mid-breath. The Metro was exactly as it had been before, clean floors, announcements playing, a bored ticket inspector at the gate. No wreckage. No chaos. Not a single scratch on the glass panels they'd seen shatter. The people they'd seen die were there, alive, scrolling their phones like nothing had happened.
It had been only a few hours for them in that other world, but here… they'd returned to the same day, same moment. No one else remembered. No one else could.
He shut the laptop fully, the click louder than it should've been.
There was a knock on his doorframe. His mother's voice floated in, telling him dinner was ready. He said he'd come later, waiting until her footsteps faded before reaching for his phone.
The unease had been simmering all day. He needed to talk to someone who'd understand, or at least not dismiss it outright. Shivam sat on the edge of his bed, laptop still open but untouched, the dim screen glowing on half-read articles about SynerTech. He had already scrolled through page after page, press releases, contracts, photos of ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and yet nothing in them felt like the truth. The company's public image was spotless. Too spotless.
His phone buzzed. Naina.
He put the call on speaker and leaned back. "Yeah?"
Her voice was calm, the way it always got when she was serious. "Heard about your trip. You, okay?"
"I'm fine. But something's off, Naina. Those NGO guys… it wasn't just some cleanup drive. They had scanners, guards, and,"
"Shivam,"
", and I think SynerTech's running something out there. Something big. Maybe testing tech. I'm thinking I should,"
"Don't," she cut in sharply. "You're not in a position to do anything about it plus it's dangerous we didn't have the powers and resource anymore it like before we are in our own world please leave it. You'll get yourself in trouble if you do it."
He sighed. "It's not just a feeling. There's something fishy about,"
"Drop it. Please. For now, just… keep your head down."
He didn't answer right away. Then: "Yeah. I'll think about it."
They exchanged a quick goodbye. He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. Outside his room, the front door clicked shut, his father's arrival. The familiar sound of keys on the counter, shoes being pulled off, and a tired exhale followed.
From the living room, he could hear his mother's voice, low but distinct. She was telling his father about the Ridge trip, how the college said it was "just a minor heat incident," how a few students fainted, and how Shivam came home quiet and went straight to his room.
There was a pause. Then his father's voice, quieter but heavier: "How many?"
"I don't know. He didn't say much."
The sound of footsteps approached. The door to Shivam's room creaked open.
His father stood there, still in his uniform trousers but without the belt, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows. His gaze flicked to the laptop, then to Shivam.
"What's this about SynerTech?"
Shivam straightened, cautious. "Nothing. Just… reading."
"Your mother tells me students collapsed on that trip. And I hear you talking about 'investigating' some company on the phone."
Shivam hesitated. "I was just talking to a Naina,"
His father stepped in, closing the door behind him. "Listen to me. I don't care what rumors you've picked up from your friends or the internet; you stay away from this. You're in college to study, not to poke your nose into things that can crush you."
"It's not rumors," Shivam said, a little sharper than intended. "Something happened out there. And no one's asking questions."
His father's eyes narrowed. "And you think it's your job to start? You have any idea who these people are? SynerTech has contracts with the Defense Ministry, with state police, with private security firms all over the country. They have reach you can't even imagine. You go digging, you won't like what you find, or what finds you."
Shivam looked away, jaw tight. "So, we just ignore it?"
"We protect ourselves," his father said firmly. "That means keeping your head down, getting your degree, building a future. Not throwing it away on some conspiracy you can't prove."
The room felt smaller, the air heavier. Shivam wanted to argue, to tell him what he'd seen, the injections, the scanners, the way the forest felt wrong, but the look in his father's eyes stopped him.
"I'm telling you this because I know how these games are played," his father continued, softer now but no less serious. "You think politics is just speeches and posters? It's deals in closed rooms. It's people deciding who gets to ask questions and who disappears for asking them."
Shivam swallowed, silent.
His father took a step closer. "You've got potential, but only if you survive long enough to use it. So, I'm going to say this once son, stay out of trouble. Focus on your studies. Forget about SynerTech. And if anyone asks, the Ridge trip was just what they told you it was. Understood?"
Shivam nodded once. Not in agreement, but enough to end the conversation.
His father studied him a second longer, then turned for the door. "Dinner's in ten. Don't stay in here sulking."
The door shut. The laptop screen dimmed further, its glow barely catching the edge of Shivam's face. He leaned back, staring at nothing, the words echoing in his head.
Forget about SynerTech. Easier said than done.