Year 2036...
Wearing ashes on its streets, Sanvik now stood with a different kind of skill. One that screamed survival.
Years of floods, communal riots, earthquakes, and, of course, endless violence had made its citizens lose their emotions.
Citizens of Sanvik were reduced to walking, talking machines. Emotions were the first thing they abandoned.
People crossed the road when the signals changed. They waited when the lights turned red. They spoke when required.
February 3rd, 2036….
Tonight, the wind moved differently. It felt like a cold slap.
A small fluorescent pink bullet hit the pavement.
Fire flared outward without any sound. For a second, everything turned white. Then, thick pink vapor burst across the air.
People inhaled.
The man walking close to the blast did not understand what had just happened.
One moment, he was walking home. Next, his chest felt heavy, heat climbing up his neck.
A car brushed past him, almost hitting him.
He bent, picked up a stone, and hurled it at the speeding car.
The stone struck metal with a sharp crack.
He stood there, breathing hard, surprised at himself.
He had not reacted like that in years.
It took him a second to recognize the feeling.
Rage.
Across the street, a tiny electric blue pellet struck a cafe.
A woman munching on her pasta felt her throat choke. Tears slipped down her face before she understood why. She wiped them quickly, but they kept rolling.
The grief had no name.
Another pellet struck a halted bus at the bus stop.
A silent green flare started rising from inside the bus.
A college boy inhaled and suddenly felt the world closing in on him.
Within minutes, various parts of Sanvik were struck by different neon-colored pellets, resulting in a series of explosions throughout the city.
Golden yellow at the theatres. Cyan at the malls. Cool white at the parks. Dark purple at the railway stations.
Arguments flared where there was silence.
Strangers embraced.
Strangers fought.
A shopkeeper laughed too loudly at nothing.
A taxi driver stepped out and shouted at the sky.
Sanvik had forgotten how to feel, and now it was drowning in them.
While the city struggled to understand what was happening, another storm began spreading across the internet.
A video was spreading. No name. No face. But the footage was sharp. High definition.
Satellite images appeared on screen.
The most populated areas of Sanvik were marked with red X signs stamped with government seals.
Below the image, a line appeared:
“Depopulation Phase-1: Wars (1914, 1939, 1947, 1971, 1991, 2014, 2025)”
War footage began playing. Soldiers shooting each other. Cities burning.
Another file opened, which read:
“Depopulation Phase-2: Terror and Communal Riots (2001, 2008, 2009, 2011, 2019, 2025)”
Suicide bombing footage began playing. Terrorists open fire on citizens. Neighbors chasing neighbors holding weapons. Men tied to trees and burnt alive.
Then another government file opened, which read:
“Depopulation Phase-3: Tsunami”
Thick cables ran across the floor, feeding power into a massive, circular core that glowed faintly blue.
A label appeared beneath the machine:
“Exterminator-Z”
A machine designed to cause tsunamis.
The screen then shifted to a satellite map of the coastal regions of Sanvik.
Red lines traced the tectonic plates beneath the sea. Pulses of energy began moving across them.
A calm voice explained:
Exterminator-Z uses seismic resonance to disturb tectonic plates.
The red pulse intensified.
Fault lines on the map began glowing brighter.
The footage then changed.
Buildings shaking. Glass shattering. People running out of their homes.
Moments later, the ocean pulled back from the shore.
Then a wall of water rose.
Entire coastlines disappeared beneath it.
The video did not end there.
Rather, a bold line highlighted in red popped onto the screen:
“RESTRICTED FILES”
The clips were different this time.
No disaster. No crowds.
But a private island graced by faces that were considered gods.
Celebrities. Politicians. Diplomats. Bureaucrats.
Surrounded by kids.
Kids who did not look happy. Kids whose eyes spoke of terror.
The video then shifted to “Freddy,” owner of the island, a businessman and philanthropist seen shaking hands with another businessman, “Gizelle,” passing over a young girl in exchange for a bag stacked with cash.
Now came the horrific part of the video.
Inside a room, the young girl was constantly being raped.
When she died, her body was served as dessert for the elites of the island.
With this, the video faded back to a black screen, and the voice from earlier said:
They say cut where it bleeds.
Monsters could not defeat God, so they attacked his favorite—
Children.
We were blind to their cons, so we made them our favorite icons.
To the people of Sanvik, I appeal:
“Stop worshipping fame. Start questioning.”
And with this, the video ended.
A woman dropped her phone.
A man laughed.
Someone whispered, “This can’t be real.”
Someone else broke down.
Meanwhile, the pellets did not stop.
Pink, orange, blue, yellow, and green.
More smoke. More breathing. More feeling.
Inside an emergency government meeting, they were still trying to understand the pellets.
Their phones lit up at the same time.
One by one, eyes dropped to their screens.
It was the same video.
Someone dropped a pen.
At the far end, a chair slipped. A man fell.
No one moved.
The video kept playing.
A voice finally broke the silence:
“These are not blasts… they are triggers.”
“The urge to feel again.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then a trembling voice broke it:
“Shit, shit, shit… we have been hit on two fronts.”
“The pellets…”
“They are making people feel again.”
“And the video… It’s exposing us.”
A cold voice cut through the room:
“This is a danger. The people will come for us.”
This was enough.
The room broke.
Chairs scraped back. Files slipped and scattered. Voices rose over each other, sharp, desperate, overlapping.
A frantic voice replied:
“What do we do now?”
Another louder voice responded:
“Take it down.”
A quieter voice answered:
“It’s all over the internet. People have already seen it. They might have even made copies… we can’t take it down.”
A scared voice replied:
“I fear rebellion.”
A calm voice said:
“I have a solution.”
All eyes shifted to the voice.
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He dialed a number.
“Media.”
A few minutes later,
The doors of Parliament flung open, revealing a young, handsome white man. He is clean-shaven, has a spiked haircut, and is dressed in a black matte-finished blazer, a small golden bow tie, black jeans, and shiny black shoes.
He did not stop.
He did not greet anyone.
He walked straight to the screen.
Watched the entire video.
And then he replied calmly:
“They are furious. This is how rebellions begin. But I have a solution. We need a distraction.”
He turned around and walked out.
Later in the newsroom,
He adjusted his hair.
Put a few drops of glycerine in his eyes while his team put up an old photo from the time the celebrity was admitted to the hospital five years ago.
His I.T. team had written:
“Breaking News”
He held his breath.
A single tear slid down his cheek.
“For a moment… I request everyone to stay with me.”
“An incident has just occurred.”
“I wish I weren’t the one saying this.”
“Adrian Voss… Sanvik’s most loved star is no more.”
A brief pause followed by the line:
“Rest in peace.”
Then the screen behind him came alive.
Adrian Voss, eyes closed, lying breathless with a white shroud covering his body, surrounded by a team of doctors.
Phones across Sanvik lit up.
“R.I.P. Adrian Voss.”
“This can’t be real.”
“No… not him.”
Posts flooded social media. Stories, comments, reposts.
Old clips from his movies resurfaced.
Bouquets flooded his home.
Large crowds gathered outside his home.
Mourning. Crying.
Citizens were beginning to forget the video from earlier.
The distraction seemed to be working.
But not for everyone.
There was one man who didn’t buy this bullshit.
A young white influencer. Clean-shaven, curly-haired, dressed in streetwear.
A cigar was always between his lips.
He laughed when things got worse.
He flicked the ash as he watched the screen without blinking.
A few seconds later, he blurted out:
“That’s bullshit.”
He then headed to the same hospital where the photo of Adrian Voss was taken.
The hidden camera turned on before he even reached the entrance.
No title. No warning. Just live on his social media.
Thousands of people joined his live stream.
He whispered into the camera:
“It’s time to ungrave the truth.”
He pushed through the door, grabbed a doctor by his collar, and asked:
“Where is Adrian Voss?”
The doctor looked at him in confusion before replying:
“You are late. He was discharged years ago.”
The influencer replied:
“Then show me. Where are his medical records?”
The doctor replied:
“But we can’t share patient records.”
The influencer then drew out his silver Glock, opened the doctor’s mouth by force, inserted his gun inside, pulled the trigger, and yelled:
“SHOW ME HIS RECORDS NOW!”
The terrified doctor pushed the influencer away and quickly reached out for the records, which he handed over.
The influencer took time to read the records in such a way that every line was clearly visible on the camera for his live audience.
He smiled and left the hospital.
By the time he stepped outside, the world on the other side of the screen began to stir.
The comment section started flooding.
“This is unreal.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Isn’t Adrian supposed to be dead?”
“But if he is dead, where is his dead body?”
“Did the media lie to us?”
A few minutes later, the influencer quietly sneaked into a royal villa while the live stream continued.
The camera captured something no one expected.
Adrian Voss.
Alive and healthy.
Laughing and playing with his daughter.
Seeing this, the comment section exploded.
“Oh my God, he is alive.”
“We were lied to.”
“But why?”
The influencer stepped back and left the villa.
He then turned the camera to his face and said:
“This is the truth of media. Nothing but a well-dressed lie.”
Shortly after the influencer reached his home, he was arrested.
Charged for threatening the doctor earlier and trespassing in the villa of Adrian Voss.
In the meantime, Sanvik was finally awakening like Kundalini rising in the body—an energy that burns from within before it transforms you.
Posters of the government were being burnt.
People came out in rallies, hurling anti-government slogans.
Streets were set ablaze.
Police rushed in, batons raised, and fired tear gas at the citizens.
Police opened fire on the citizens of Sanvik.
Killing hundreds.
Bodies began piling up like garbage.
So the citizens reacted.
They made multiple Molotov cocktails.
Huge crowd of youth marched towards the Parliament. With questions and demanding accountability.
Soon the Parliament fell and every government officer inside it was taken in custody.
Somewhere else, the media was put to justice in the middle of a street.
The old rule died with them, giving birth to a new one.
A system where the public proposed the laws together collectively, and polls decided the final decisions.
THE END.
#gurukripakevalam
Written By: Mohit K. Tolani
[M.K.T.]
