(Before beginning the story, a few things need to be said. This is an adult novel. Due to narrative necessity, the story contains vivid depictions of violence, sexuality, and nudity. So, if any reader is uncomfortable with such content, this novel may not be for them. There are numerous religious and political parallels throughout. Please view the story as fiction. Avoid unnecessary comparisons with reality or taking offense—neither burden yourself nor the author. Thank you.)
Tomorrow was going to be an extremely important day for Abhiroop Chattoraj. In his forty years of life, he had lived within a tightly defined circle, and it was through the lens of that circle that he had come to understand and interpret the entire world. Of course, that was only natural. Abhiroop Chattoraj was an industrialist and the head of one of the country’s largest corporate entities—Dwaraka Conglomerate. Not only that, he was the third person in the country to be officially declared a trillionaire. So naturally, his influence extended beyond the economic sphere, subtly affecting the political realm as well.
Though many of his and his company’s actions appeared to benefit public life, very few knew that Abhiroop Chattoraj had never done anything that didn’t serve his own profit. Especially over the past five years, a special project he had undertaken in collaboration with the government was nearing its final stage. Once completed, no one would be able to stop him. His corporation would emerge as the most powerful force not just within the country, but across all of Asia. A force so influential, it would control the future of the nation for the next fifty years.
It was through this very project that his true nature had begun to surface in front of the public. Protests and agitations had erupted around the nexus between him and the current government. In fact, demonstrations at several of his company’s campuses had even turned violent. But so what? Abhiroop remained unmoved. He was determined to fulfill his goals. He knew that a few scattered protesters couldn’t harm him. The entire media was in his pocket. And most people were guided by that very media. He also knew that, eventually, the masses would forget everything and accept his carefully crafted future as their destiny. In return, the government had granted him the highest level of protection. Moreover, his private security force could embarrass even the security teams of some world leaders. He was unstoppable.
That was Abhiroop Chattoraj a week ago.
But within the last week, something had happened that shook him to his core. It made him reevaluate every action he'd taken over the past five years. He realized he had ignited a fire that, in the near future, would burn down the very paradise he had built with his own hands. And so, tomorrow, he was about to usher in a new chapter. Maybe he wouldn't be able to please everyone. Maybe he wouldn’t become a god. But he would stop an inevitable eclipse that was about to descend upon everyone—regardless of time, place, religion, caste, or class. He wouldn’t take on such a massive burden in the pursuit of becoming a god—he couldn't.
Abhiroop’s Tesla Electric Sports Car rolled into the courtyard of his luxurious twenty-seven-story residence, Valhalla, located in the city's most elite neighborhood. Valhalla—literally, the house of gods—had been built at a cost of nearly 25 billion rupees. There was no luxury or modern convenience that this home lacked. The topmost floor was designed like a royal palace, sitting atop the high-rise like a crown. It featured a helipad, an infinity pool, a theater hall, an in-house playground, an elevated parking lot, and computer-controlled home security.
Thanks to a special parking system, Abhiroop could take his car directly to any floor via a car elevator. His wife and two children were on a holiday trip to Austria. Due to his work commitments and the looming deadline of his project, Abhiroop had stayed back.
Tonight, he took the car up to his private “living palace” on the top floor. Using voice commands, he adjusted the lights and temperature and entered his home office. One wall was made entirely of glass, offering a stunning view of the city skyline. In the center of the room stood a large desk with a 42-inch computer monitor. Holding a glass of Scotch whisky, he sat down in a million-and-a-half dollar Pininfarina chair and powered on the computer. A small box next to the monitor lit up as he pressed a button, projecting a bright red laser keyboard onto the table surface.
He needed to go through all the data for his new project one more time, as he would have to provide strong justification for the changed decision he planned to announce tomorrow. With deep concentration, he began opening file after file.
That’s when it happened.
A 30mm bullet shattered the glass window behind him, tore through his chair, pierced his back, and exploded out through his chest. Before he could react, a second bullet shredded part of his ribcage. Blood gushed from his wounds and mouth, flooding the desk and soaking his body. Moments later, several more rounds smashed the computer into pieces.
Outside the broken window, a drone hovered in midair.
April 9th, 1980—the day he was born and cradled by his father. Memories from his first major injury, school incidents, the hazy recollection of his first kiss, the clearer memory of his first sexual experience, his days at Stanford University, to being declared the third trillionaire in the country as the owner of Dwaraka Conglomerate—all flashed through his mind like a dream. The moment his name appeared on the cover of Forbes Magazine as one of the most influential people in the world...
Gradually, Abhiroop Chattoraj opened his eyes with a blurry gaze.
As his vision cleared, he saw four individuals dressed in white standing before him. Their attire suggested medical uniforms, though distinctly different from any he had ever seen. Most astonishing was their appearance—not male, not female, but entirely androgynous, making it impossible to determine their gender.
One of them stepped forward and said in a melodious, unfamiliar voice:
"Mr. Chattoraj, due to an accident, you've been asleep for quite some time. Our monitors show your memories have successfully segregated. Now we’ll need to check whether your logical and reasoning faculties are functioning properly. The rest will be handled by Dr. Moksha."
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By then, Abhiroop had taken in more of his surroundings. The room was filled with numerous machines—none of which seemed familiar. He was semi-reclined on a mattress mounted on a metal plate, connected to various electronic devices. As soon as Dr. Moksha's name was mentioned, the metallic plate folded itself into a chair-like structure, wrapping around Abhirup. Then, it began moving out through the room's door and headed toward a vast hall.The entire floor of the hall was patterned like a chessboard.
Abhirup couldn’t tell whether the chair had any wheels at all, because he felt no friction with the ground. It was as if he was gliding effortlessly.At the far end of the hall, on the opposite side of an enormous table, sat a man.
He wore a bottle-green suit, but there was not a single stitch visible on it—almost as if the suit had been crafted from a single piece of fabric, seamlessly.
The man had very little hair on his head, and what little there was had been slicked back into three distinct sections.
On his eyes sat a frameless triangular pair of glasses.
The man looked at Abhirup, smiled slightly, and said—
"Hello, Mr. Chattoraj. I’m Dr. Moksha."
---
“Mr. Chattoraj, I’m going to ask you a few questions. I’d like you to answer them, all right?”
Before Abhirup could respond, Dr. Moksha asked his first question—
“Well then—blue over red, or red over blue?”
“Well, it’s very obvious. Red over blue. But… why are you asking me questions like this?”
Without answering that, Dr. Moksha posed another question—
“A candle, a lamp, a torch, and a matchstick—which one do you light first?”
“The matchstick…”
Abhirup replied.
Just like that, Dr. Moksha continued—one question after another, ranging from easy to quite difficult. Nearly thirty in total.
Abhirup answered all of them to the best of his ability.
Finally, he said—
“I’ve answered all your questions. Now answer mine.
Where am I? And what am I doing here?”
“You’ll get all your answers, Mr. Chattoraj. Just a little patience.
Your secretary is waiting for you. She’ll help you learn and understand everything else.
This way, Mr. Chattoraj. Please get changed. Then one of our service agents will guide you from there."
---
In the dressing corridor, Abhirup changed into an outfit made from the same material as Dr. Moksha's clothes, fetched from a panel bearing his name. As he stepped out, a person approached him. This person too was neither distinctly male nor female. However, their outfit was a different color. In the same melodious voice, the person said—
"This way, please."
Following the person, Abhirup arrived in a large room where he saw a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in a peach-colored business suit sitting in a chair. Her age was impossible to determine—maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, but certainly not more. As soon as she saw Abhirup, she stood up and greeted him politely:
"Hello sir, I'm Sirin. I am the secretary of the Chattoraj family. I’m going to take charge from here."
"Excuse me, as far as I remember, I don’t have any secretary named Sirin. Are you sure you’re not making some mistake?"
Abhirup asked suspiciously.
"No sir. I said I’m the secretary of the Chattoraj family. Which means I’m also your secretary now. Please come with me, you will get all your answers. First, let’s go home. Come this way."
Sirin replied calmly, in an extremely sweet tone.
There was something about the way she spoke that made it impossible for Abhirup to argue further. He began to follow her.
They arrived at a location where a strange-looking vehicle stood in front of them. It looked somewhat like a helicopter, but it had no rotor blades.
Sirin said again—
"This is your property. We will be traveling in this. It’s called a 'Cloud Thopter.'"
Sirin sat in one seat of the Cloud Thopter, and Abhirup sat in another. As soon as they sat down, something like a seatbelt emerged on its own and secured them to the seats. Abhirup noticed there was no pilot in the vehicle. Before he could ask anything, Sirin gave a voice command:
"Ascending Valhalla, Dock Number Four."
The vehicle activated on its own, lifting off from the ground. As a gate in front of them opened, the Cloud Thopter smoothly emerged from the seventy-fifth floor of a towering building into open air.
Hearing the name “Valhalla” made Abhirup feel a bit reassured—he realized he was going home. But as he looked out the window, he was completely stunned by the city’s appearance. Countless tall buildings, most of them easily more than a hundred stories high. Incredibly complex architecture. Numerous long flyways and bridges like spiderwebs, but they appeared unusually smooth and radiant.
"Sirin, right? That’s your name? Which city are we in right now?"
Abhirup asked, shocked.
"Well, this is the eastern part of the Indian subcontinent, Zone 33. Historically, the southern part of Bengal."
Sirin answered with the same calm tone.
"What!!? What does that mean?"
Abhirup asked, visibly shaken.
"You might not be ready to hear the full answer yet. Let’s go home first."
Sirin replied.
"I’ll decide whether I’m ready or not. Now come on, surprise me."
Abhirup said, even more agitated.
"Do you remember the name Biogenesis?"
Sirin asked.
"Biogenesis? Yes, yes, I can remember. I was associated with that organization and had volunteered for one of their programs."
Abhirup answered.
"Yes. You were a part of Biogenesis Corporation’s program 'Incarnate.' And according to that program, you are an 'Incarnate' or a 'Reborn.' You died in the year 2020. And now, under Biogenesis’s Incarnate program, you have been brought back to life three hundred and ninety years later. Why this was done will be revealed to you in time. It’s the year 2410 now. Now see this—"
Sirin tapped on a particular spot on the touch panel in front of her. Instantly, the walls, ceiling, and metal shell of the vehicle slid away to reveal a transparent glass-like layer. Abhirup stared in amazement at the city below. He had already seen the buildings and flyways, but now he saw countless vehicles, a swarm of floating drones, and many helicopter-like crafts flying around. Wherever Abhirup looked, Sirin would double-tap the glass in that direction, and that portion of the distant city would zoom in on the glass panel.
After observing for a long while, Abhirup finally asked Sirin—
"So, where is my house in this new city?"
Sirin replied—
"No, no, why would your house be here? Only the ‘Dart Walkers’ live here. You are an ‘Ascender’."
"Then where is my house?"
Abhirup asked, completely baffled.
"Look up..."
Sirin answered briefly, pointing her index finger upward.
Through the vehicle’s transparent ceiling, Abhirup looked up and saw—floating far above—a massive metallic structure shaped almost like a sphere with countless branches. It was so huge that nearly five entire Kolkata cities could fit inside it. Countless points of light flickered within it like stars in the night sky. A glowing aura radiated from its exterior, much like the Earth's albedo seen from outside the atmosphere.
Before Abhirup could overcome his astonishment, Sirin said—
"That is our destination—'The Seventh Heaven Metropolitan.'"
( To be continued… )
