AIR Rank of Students

**August 1, 2002**

**Agni University, Rewari**

The morning sun streamed through the office window at Agni University, bathing Jatin's desk in a warm, amber glow. He sat hunched over a pile of documents, his fingers—rough with ink stains and calluses—flipping through pages, the faint rustle of paper blending with the distant clang of construction outside. The air carried the scent of dust and the sharp bite of fresh ink, a half-empty mug of chai cooling beside him, its steam curling lazily upward. For days, Neha had been a whirlwind—racing between Gurgaon and Haryana, her sandals tapping a relentless beat as she tackled the sports academy and school purchases. Five schools were now his—Agni National School Rewari, Rohtak, Hisar, Panipat, and Faridabad—snapped up with cash and quiet bribes, their classes humming along until next March, when he'd weave them into his vision.

In Gurgaon, Neha had zeroed in on a sprawling 100-acre plot, a canvas for Agni Academy. Negotiations hummed with the landowners, voices haggling over rupees under the shadow of a future football stadium—grandstands rising, turf gleaming—flanked by badminton and volleyball courts, and a cluster of buildings for basic B.A. and B.Sc. degrees. Education would simmer there, a sidelight to the roar of sport. Licenses for the schools had slid through with greased palms—government clerks pocketing lakhs, their stamps thudding on papers—but the academy and stadium permits still dangled, applied for and pending. Neha had tossed donations to KMP, Haryana's ruling party, their leaders nodding with sly grins, promising a push. "One or two weeks," she'd said, her voice crackling over the phone last night, and Jatin trusted her to carve through the swamp of corruption.

But today, his mind danced elsewhere. He set the documents aside, the chair creaking as he leaned back, boots scuffing the tiles, and reached for the newspaper—*The Times of India*, its edges creased from an eager delivery boy. His heart thudded with a quiet excitement—results day for the third-years, the 32 who'd graduated in July, their entrance test scores for higher studies splashed across the All India Rank (AIR) column. He flipped to the section, ink smudging his fingers as he scanned from the top, eyes darting over names. No Agni University student cracked the top 10—his jaw tightened briefly—then he hit the top 50, and there it was: Raman, AIR 49. A grin broke free, raw and wide, as he scrolled further—Rahul, AIR 94; Priya, AIR 198; Kunal, AIR 344; Aditya, AIR 699; Pooja, AIR 800.

Six of his original 32 had landed AIR ranks—six sparks in a sea of effort. Jatin's chest swelled, pride mixing with a pang of sadness for the others, the 26 who'd missed the cut. He rubbed his neck, the faint ache of tension easing, and murmured, "I'll cover them—fees, lodging, whatever they need. I'm a millionaire now." VedaOS's millions—20 lakhs online, Gateway's cash looming—made it real, a cushion for his kids to chase their dreams.

He tilted his head, the chai mug warm under his palm, and asked aloud, voice rough with curiosity, "System, why only 6? And Pooja—she doesn't have B-level potential anywhere."

The reply rang in his mind, cool and precise, cutting through the office's hum.

[*Host, it depends upon students' hard work. Pooja performed well because she studied hard in her vacation. The System doesn't boost only in one field. Pooja has D-level potential in math and physics, E-level in chemistry. After the System boost, it became C-level in math and physics, D-level in chemistry.*]

Jatin nodded, the pieces clicking into place, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Oh, okay—thank you, System," he said, voice softening, the chai's sweetness lingering as he sipped it, cold now but grounding. Hard work—Pooja's quiet grit had pushed her to AIR 800, a leap beyond her raw potential.

The System's voice returned, sharp with a new edge.

[*Congratulations, Host, for your students performing well in exams. The System has rewarded you with one overall level in your potential.*]

A pause, then it continued, laying out the shift.

[*Now S-level in math, A-level in physics and computer science, S-level in arts and painting, B-level in chemistry, A-level in cricket, and B-level in volleyball and badminton. From combining sports potential into body potential, it becomes B-level body potential. A normal human has D-level body potential; professional athletes have C-level, the limit of normal humans.*]

Jatin froze, a current surging through him—electric, alive—starting at his spine and racing outward. His mind sharpened, crystalline, math unfurling like a symphony, physics and code weaving seamless patterns, colors and lines of art blazing vivid behind his eyes. His body shifted—muscles lighter, tauter, as if gravity had loosened its grip, his breath deeper, steadier. He gripped the desk, wood warm under his palms, the cigarette forgotten as his pulse thundered, awe and power humming in his veins.

He stood, boots thudding on the tiles, and strode to the window, pushing it wide. The campus sprawled below—construction dust swirling, the neem tree rustling, workers' shouts a distant chorus. His senses caught it all—the chai's faint steam, the ink on his fingers, the sun's warmth on his face. Six students—Raman's steady brilliance, Rahul's fierce drive, Priya's quiet hope, Kunal's sharp code, Aditya's wild art, Pooja's grit—had lit this fire. The others he'd lift, their fees paid, their paths opened.

Five schools hummed under the Agni name, 25 more to come by next year. In Gurgaon, 100 acres waited—football's roar, badminton's snap, volleyball's thud, a pipeline to Agni University. Licenses crept closer, greased by Neha's cunning and KMP's greed. He lit a cigarette, smoke curling into the light, its sting sharp in his eyes, and exhaled, the grin fierce and raw. His mind—S in math, A in physics—saw equations bend; his body—B-level now—felt ready to sprint, swing, leap. Agni burned—schools, academy, university—a holy blaze rising, step by steady step.