Arjun Mehra he Shadow Broadcast By Arjun Mehra Part 1 – The Leak Rain glazed the pavements of London in a silver film that distorted neon into restless pools of color. At three in the morning, the newsroom of the Daily Standard lay deserted except for Eleanor Hart, who hunched over her terminal with the exhausted determination of someone unwilling to surrender to sleep. She had been chasing a dead lead on parliamentary lobbying, convinced that hidden money had been funneling itself into the corridors of Westminster. But the screen in front of her no longer displayed budget spreadsheets or…
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Ethan Ray Episode 1 – The Breach The lights of Manhattan flickered once, twice, then died. Traffic signals froze in the middle of rush hour. Elevators locked between floors. Screens inside Times Square went blank, the usual neon chaos swallowed in sudden silence. For a moment, the city stood suspended in a strange twilight of confusion, as though the heartbeat of New York had skipped a beat. Then came the sirens, the panicked voices, the realization that something was terribly wrong. By the time the backup grids powered up, half the financial district was already in chaos. Banks reported locked…
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Talia Verma Part 1: The Signal Beneath the Code Riya D’Souza had spent the last thirty-six hours in the analytics lab of Delphatech Systems with nothing but a lukewarm soy latte and a dozen lines of untraceable code for company. She blinked at the double-screen setup in front of her, the left monitor displaying her algorithm’s output logs, the right one scrolling endless rows of encrypted global banking transactions. Her job wasn’t supposed to be this intense. Data mining for anomalies was mundane, tedious—until it wasn’t. It had started with a flicker. A pattern buried deep within the monetary flow…
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Karan Vaidya Part 1: The Man at Platform Nine It was 6:07 a.m. when the Howrah-Kalka Express pulled into Platform Nine of New Delhi Railway Station. The fog hung low, clinging to the tracks like a secret. Among the passengers stepping onto the platform, one man stood apart—not because of what he wore, but how he moved. Precise. Intentional. Almost like he didn’t belong to the chaos of Indian mornings. His name was Arjun Sen—or at least that’s what his current ID said. Officially, he was a mid-level policy analyst with the Ministry of External Affairs. Unofficially, he was something…