Chapter 1: The ObserverPart 1: The Ghost in the Machine

Chapter 1: The Observer

Part 1: The Awakening

"Agar desh ki samasya suljhane ka kaam sarkar ke bharose chod diya hota, toh aaj bhi 2G internet chal raha hota."

— Every Indian Frustrated with the System

"In India, we don't need sci-fi. Reality itself is a glitch in the matrix."

— A Sleep-Deprived Engineering Student

Pragya never wanted to be a hero.

A hacker? Yes. A rebel? Maybe. But a savior? Arre bhai, bilkul nahi!

He just wanted to watch the world burn from a safe distance—with a cup of cutting chai in one hand and a plate of piping hot samosas in the other.

But India had other plans for him.

His story didn't begin with a dramatic explosion or a grand betrayal. No, no. It began in the most Indian way possible—with power cuts and political drama.

The Birth of an Idea

It was a scorching summer night in Mumbai, and the electricity had gone off—again.

Sweating like a vada pav in a microwave, Pragya lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling fan, which was now just a useless decoration.

Somewhere outside, neighbors were already screaming at the power company.

"Arre bijli department, tum sab so rahe ho kya?"

"Kya yeh Delhi hai? Yahan toh 24-hour electricity hone ka sapna bhi dekhna gunaah hai!"

Meanwhile, the local WhatsApp group was on fire. The uncle brigade had already come up with five different theories for the power cut:

"Pakistan hackers ne grid hack kar diya!"

"China ka naya cyber weapon test ho raha hai."

"Yeh sab Ambani ka plan hai! Sabko Jio electricity bechne ka irada hai."

"Yeh toh Congress ki saazish lagti hai."

"Beta, Bhagwan ki leela hai. So jao, subah light aa jayegi."

Pragya sighed. "Arre yaar, yeh desh ko meme banne se koi nahi rok sakta."

Then his eyes fell on his laptop—glowing in the dark like some ancient treasure.

Thanks to his personal UPS backup, his system was still alive. And inside it lay something far more powerful than electricity—an idea.

A World Without Truth

Pragya wasn't an ordinary hacker. He was the hacker—number one in the underground network, the guy who could break into any system without leaving a trace.

But hacking for fun was boring now. It was like playing GTA with all the cheat codes on—too easy.

What really fascinated him was the real world, where truth had become a luxury.

Media? Bought.

Politicians? Sold.

Corporations? Looting openly.

If you had power, you could do anything. Lie. Steal. Kill. And still, people would vote for you, chant your name, and make memes about you.

"What a country, boss!"

That's when Pragya decided—India didn't need another hacker. India needed a truth bomb.

A system so powerful that no one—not the government, not the corporations, not even WhatsApp uncles—could manipulate it.

The Jugaad Begins

Like any great Indian invention, Pragya's app didn't start with funding, a business plan, or venture capitalists.

It started with jugaad.

Step 1: He grabbed an old laptop that looked like it had survived two world wars and an Indian wedding.

Step 2: He opened 15 tabs on Chrome, making his system lag worse than IRCTC during Diwali ticket bookings.

Step 3: He coded for 48 hours straight, surviving only on Maggi, Parle-G, and chai.

At one point, he even considered praying to Lord Ganesha for debugging help.

"Bhagwan, bas ek baar compile ho jaye, phir prasad main Samosa chadhaaunga!"

After many crashes, five existential crises, and one brief moment where he almost threw his laptop out of the window, it finally happened.

The screen flashed:

"APP SUCCESSFULLY CREATED!"

Pragya jumped up like an Indian cricket fan when Kohli hits a six.

"Beta, yeh toh kaam kar gaya!"

But before he could celebrate, he heard his neighbor scream:

"Arey, bijli aa gayi!"

The irony was too much.

As Mumbai lit up again, Pragya sat in the glow of his screen, knowing his creation was about to change everything.

The real power had just been switched on.