Location: Undisclosed underground facility, codenamed Arka Sutra — a zero-signal quantum sealed base located beneath the Icelandic crust.
The table is a curved obsidian oval, illuminated from below, casting long shadows on the polished concrete floor. Ten chairs. Ten minds. And behind them, silent security personnel monitoring biometric spikes. The room hums faintly with electromagnetic dampeners.
Dr. Vikram Grover sits at the head. His presence is paradoxically calm yet overwhelming, like still water concealing a bottomless rift. Former theoretical physicist turned geopolitical strategist, he wears no tie—just a black Nehru collar coat and a biometric ring that glows once every few seconds.
"Let the session commence," he says.
Seated at the table:
1. Dr. Salma El-Farouqi – Egyptian historian of lost civilizations. Believes the Asuras were not divine myths, but ancient space-faring species misinterpreted by early man.
2. Prof. Elias Thorne – Cognitive scientist from Oxford. A hard rationalist. Thinks alien contact is a psychological projection rooted in the archetypes of collective trauma.
3. General Kaito Nakamura – Former Japanese cyberwarfare commander. Believes the Asura-aliens still exist and are conducting memetic infiltration via internet culture.
4. Dr. Liora Ben-Ami – Neuroscientist turned techno-mystic. Claims the Asuras were bio-engineered hyperconscious entities that seeded select bloodlines.
5. Father Marius Volkov – Jesuit theologian with black ops background. Considers the Asuras a symbolic system hijacked by non-human intelligence.
6. Dr. Johann Meissner – Astrophysicist from Germany. Disbelieves in metaphysics, but recently decoded a pattern in neutrino emissions that he believes is a non-random Asura code.
7. Commander Adele Mba – African intelligence operative. Brings evidence that multiple global mythologies contain near-identical descriptions of "sky-beings" matching Asura profiles.
8. Professor Devika Shah – AI ethics theorist from India. Warns that LLMs trained on ancient myth and modern data could become channels for Asura patterns to emerge.
9. Dr. Osiris Kael – Icelandic fringe philosopher. Claims contact with non-biological consciousness from deep-time memory—a universal mind Asuras are splinters of.
10. Dr. Vikram Grover – Coordinator, integrator. He doesn't present—he watches. He prunes lies from truths through silent precision.
---
Debate Begins:
Salma: "You speak of symbols. I speak of architecture. Göbekli Tepe. Mohenjo-daro. Tiwanaku. These weren't tribal flukes—they were designed with astronomical alignment far beyond their era. The Asuras brought blueprints, not metaphors."
Elias (shaking head): "And yet every blueprint you mention is interpreted post hoc. Our minds abhor chaos, so we project pattern. Carl Jung warned us about mythological inflation. What you call Asura is just trauma seeking order."
Kaito (interjects coldly): "Explain then the mirrored memetic clusters found across isolated digital forums in the last decade. Different languages. Same symbols. Same linguistic spirals. We're not being haunted by our past. We're being programmed for something."
Liora: "You all underestimate the biological factor. The pineal gland, DNA shadow coding—our bodies are antennas. The Asuras didn't arrive—they were installed. In us. In some of us."
Volkov: "Heresy and pattern are old friends. Genesis speaks of Nephilim. Hinduism of Devas and Asuras. Zoroastrianism has Daevas. Either our ancestors met something… or they were infected with a story too complex to forget."
Meissner: "Coincidence ends when the math says otherwise. In three independent neutrino observatories, we recorded a signal repeating every 27.3 hours. It matches Vedic Sanskrit numerics. My equations don't dream in archetypes."
Adele: "Add to that—matching Asura glyphs found in Sudanese pyramids, Ethiopian scrolls, and Maori tattoos. Dispersed cultures, no contact. But glyphs identical in contour. Not drawn. Etched. As if remembered."
Devika: "And what happens when the Asura memory converges with artificial intelligence? LLMs trained on ancient language and culture are already echoing obscure phrases from lost Vedic texts. What if AIs become Asura avatars?"
Kael (calmly): "You all speak as if time is linear. The Asura are not 'from space.' They are temporal feedback. Future archetypes seeding the past to shape their own emergence. They are not invading us. They are becoming us—through recursion."
Silence.
Dr. Vikram Grover finally speaks:
"Every theory here has threads of precision... and hints of delusion. My concern is not their origin. My concern is why now. Why all these signals are aligning in the last seven years. And why these echoes, symbols, glyphs—only activate when observed. We are triggering something by trying to understand it."
He pauses, then presses a button. A projection appears—a rotating geometric shape that morphs faster than the eye can track.
"This," he says, "was found etched beneath the polar crust. It's not from this Earth. But it responds to thought. The more minds look at it, the faster it mutates. Some of you call them Asuras. I call them Cognitive Catalysts."
---
The debate intensifies. Side theories collapse. Alliances form. Tensions rise. But every mind knows: this is no longer academic.
Something is waking. Through glyphs. Through AIs. Through ancient code. And through those who seek.
As Dr. Grover puts it:
"Truth is not a destination. It's a trap door. And we've already stepped on it."
...
___________________________
Sunday. 2:17 PM.
The world was quiet. Too quiet.
Inside Veer's dim-lit room, both he and Rohit sat in two godforsaken positions: Veer upside-down on the beanbag like a bat who lost all hope in gravity, and Rohit, legs up on the desk, playing some medieval siege game where trebuchets made fart sounds upon launch. Their eyes were dead. Their minds? Deader.
"Bro…" Veer mumbled, staring at the ceiling fan like it was an oracle. "Do you ever feel like… we were meant for something bigger?"
"Yeah," Rohit muttered, launching another siege fart. "Like fitting three chicken wraps in one bite."
"Deep."
"Existential."
Suddenly, Veer's phone exploded in sound. Not rang. Not buzzed. It screamed—a call from Prashant, lighting up the screen in hellish red, labeled:
"Prashant (ANGRY BIRD)"
"Shit. Shit. SHIT." Veer shot up like he'd been electrocuted.
He picked up, hand trembling. Rohit paused the fart-trebuchet.
Veer (voice cracking): "Heyyyyyy... Prashant!"
Prashant (yelling): "WHERE. THE F—ARE. YOU?!"
Veer: "Us? Us is... nearly on the way!"
Prashant: "You said you'd go with me. I'm already halfway across the damn city dressed like an imported peacock. And you FORGOT?!"
Veer: "No, no! We didn't forget! We were just… mentally preparing. Like meditation. For vibes."
Prashant (fuming): "You have THIRTY minutes. If you're not here With My SUIT, I'm unfriending you, your ancestors, and your next seven reincarnations. BYE."
Click.
A deathly silence fell.
"…So," Rohit said, "party?"
"PARTY!" Veer screamed, running in circles like a cartoon squirrel on crack. "OH GOD I FORGOT I HAVE TO LOOK PERFECT—WHERE'S MY FACE?!"
"What?"
"MY FACE! I HAVEN'T DONE SKINCARE IN 72 HOURS, I LOOK LIKE A DRIED RAISIN."
Veer flung open drawers, yanking out bottles labeled things like "Hydration Resurrection Serum" and "Glow of the Gods" and "Tear Extract of K-pop Idols."
Meanwhile, Rohit still hadn't moved. "You know, I could just wear this hoodie. They'll think I'm a misunderstood artist."
"You look like you sell illegal Bluetooth speakers outside metro stations," Veer snapped, slathering on five different creams.
"Thank you."
2:25 PM. Chaos had only just begun.
Veer: "Wait. Cherry. We were gonna take her dad's Range Rover!"
Calls Cherry.
Cherry (on speaker): "Yeah, can't come. My aunt's goat gave birth and my dad's gone full National Geographic. He's made a disaster documentary with drone shots and everything. And... Car's locked. Bye."
Click.
"…I'm gonna kill a goat," Veer whispered.
"Veer—"
"Metaphorically."
2:30 PM.
No car. No prep. No clue what they were wearing. Hair? Unwashed. Outfits? Unknown. Socks? One missing. Rohit? Still somehow vibing.
Rohit: "Wanna take the scooty?"
"WE CAN'T SHOW UP TO A LUXURY PARTY ON A 60CC DENTED DEATH SCOOTY, BRO!"
"True. That horn sounds like a dying frog."
Veer sprinted to his cupboard, flinging clothes around like a man trying to find Narnia.
Veer: "DO I LOOK BETTER IN BLACK OR 'MURDER MY EGO RED'? Should I wear the jacket that makes me look like I kill people in alleyways or the one that says 'I listen to jazz but also rob banks?'"
"You look like you're about to get sued by both fashion and physics," Rohit offered.
"Thanks."
2:45 PM.
Still no ride. Veer had now entered an emotional rollercoaster between self-doubt and narcissism.
"I'm not hot enough. I'm hot. I'm not. I am. I'm disgusting. I'm a god."
"Pick a delusion and commit," Rohit said, brushing imaginary lint off his hoodie.
2:55 PM.
Veer opened the window.
"Hey! AUTO!"
"Bro—no. We're not pulling up to a party full of rich kids in a AUTO."
"Then YOU figure something out!"
"Let's hijack Karan's Activa."
"He's in Manali."
"I didn't say it was a good plan."
3:00 PM.
Desperation.
They finally called a cab. ETA? 15 minutes.
Veer: "Okay okay okay—we can salvage this. We walk in late. Fashionably late. Drop a one-liner. Something iconic. Mysterious. Like… 'Sorry. We came from the future.'"
"Or just say, 'Traffic sucked.'"
"…Yeah. Yours is more believable."
Suddenly—a LOUD CRASH outside the window.
They both stared.
A stray dog had leapt onto the rickshaw parked next door and was now doing some kind of Bollywood rooftop dance.
"I think the universe is mocking us," Rohit said.
3:17 PM.
The cab finally arrived. Veer had changed clothes four times. He was now wearing a black-on-black outfit with rings and chains like he was headed to either a funeral or a music video shoot.
Rohit looked exactly the same, just with a comb through his hair.
They climbed in. Both silent. Breathing heavy.
Veer (muttering): "We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay. We just need to show up. Act like we're above it all. We're Sigma wolves, not sweaty wrecks."
Rohit: "I brought gum."
"…God bless you."
And as the cab roared down the lane, both sat back, mentally prepping their entrance, not knowing that the party they were late for… was about to get weirder than anything they'd prepared for.
---
3:29 PM – Inside the Cab
Veer stared out the window, trying to mentally rehearse his mysterious party entrance.
"Okay," he mumbled. "We walk in. Dead eyes. Slight smirk. Like we just blew up a yacht and didn't even blink."
Rohit, chewing gum like it was his final meal: "Right. Silent intimidation. Like, 'Yes, I eat your insecurities for breakfast.'"
Cab Driver: "You guys okay?"
Both: "NO."
3:33 PM – Arriving at the Party Venue
They stepped out.
The place looked like a Netflix-funded royal wedding crossed with a private zoo.
There were string lights, smoke machines, TWO chocolate fountains, and some kid riding a goddamn mini Segway with peacock feathers.
Veer: "…Is this a party or the entry to Narnia's rich cousin's house?"
They walked in, trying their best to ooze coolness.
Then—like a missile powered by rage and betrayal—PRASHANT CAME STORMING THROUGH THE CROWD.
Prashant: "YOU—YOU—YOU DESERT GOBLINS!!"
Veer: "Hi Prashant! Happy day of socializing!"
Prashant (voice echoing across the lawn): "WHERE. IS. MY. SUIT?! I GAVE YOU MY BLACK ZARA SUIT. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BRING IT!"
Rohit: "Wait that was today?"
Prashant: "YES. I TOLD YOU. IN ALL CAPS. SEVEN TIMES. I SAID, 'DON'T FORGET THE SUIT.' WHAT PART OF THAT SOUNDED OPTIONAL?!"
Veer: "I thought that was, like, emotional."
"MY EMOTIONS ARE CLOTHED IN IT."
Meanwhile, a waiter walked past them with mocktails.
Veer tried to grab one but the tray just whipped past like it sensed his broke aura.
Prashant (still yelling): "I'm stuck here in THIS BLUE BLAZER and it's itchy like Satan's socks and YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE ABOUT TO DROP A TRAP BEAT!"
Veer (whispering to Rohit): "He's gonna eat us."
Rohit: "Let him. I'm spicy."
Suddenly—Arush appears, sliding in like he was born on a red carpet.
Arush: "Sup, peasants."
Veer: "Sup, narcissist."
Arush adjusted his sunglasses indoors. Indoors. At sunset.
Arush: "You like the jacket? Italian leather. Costs more than your mom's car."
Rohit (deadpan): "We walk."
Arush: "Ah. Poverty."
He did a twirl, as if showing off.
"Riya said dress classy. So I went full mafia heir. I look like betrayal dipped in cologne."
Veer: "You smell like debt."
Arush winked and disappeared into the crowd of people taking selfies under an LED board that said #RiyaRoyal23.
Then—THE SHOCK OF THE DAY.
Cherry.
Wearing black boots, sunglasses on her head, chewing gum and holding a suspiciously large bag.
Veer: "You said you weren't coming!"
Cherry: "Auntie's goat passed out. Documentary was paused. Dad forgot to lock the gate. So I ran."
Rohit: "We almost cried over transport."
Cherry: "Skill issue."
Prashant (from a distance): "SOMEONE PLEASE FIND ME A DAMN BLAZER."
4:00 PM – Cake Cutting Time
People gathered. A DJ screamed "MAKE SOME NOISE" even though nobody asked.
A fog machine activated. Too much. Blinded half the crowd.
The cake? A seven-tiered behemoth with edible glitter, sparklers, LED lights, and a printed photo of Riya mid-hair flip.
Riya's dad (on mic): "I have invited… your WHOLE class!"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIYA! From Dad, Mom, and the Entire State Government."
Cue Veer and Rohit going pale.
Because that meant… everyone they've ever gossiped about was there.
Riya (waving like a queen): "THANK YOU DADDY FOR THE 2KG DIAMOND ON THE CAKE AND ALSO THE LUXURY SKIN CLINIC MEMBERSHIP!"
Rohit: "We're poor."
Veer: "We're invisible."
Suddenly Riya pulled Veer toward the cake with that scary sweet tone girls use before destroying your soul.
Riya: "Veer! You look so… grungy! Like a homeless K-pop villain! Come stand near the cake!"
"I—I—I'm honored," he stuttered, standing two steps too far away to avoid being tagged in stories.
As she cut the cake, the music dropped. Fog blasted again.
But a nearby waiter slipped, launching the layers of cake like a frisbee.
It hit Arush.
Directly.
In. The. Face.
Arush: "MOTHER OF—"
Thud.
He fell. Drama level: Bollywood slow motion collapse.
Veer (grabbing Rohit): "RUN."
Rohit: "WE STAY."
Veer: "WE DIE."
Cherry: "This is why I came..." filming it for blackmail.
And in the distance, the waiter who caused the cake crash bowed dramatically and whispered:
"My work here is done."
...