Chapter 28 – Embers in the Dark
Chapter 28 – Embers in the Dark
The wind howled through the narrow valleys of Uttarakhand, whispering secrets to the darkened hills. Moonlight fell like silver dust on the rooftops of the remote Swarajya campus, illuminating the sharp ridges and glistening dew. Ram sat by the window of his private study—barefoot, sleepless, a mug of untouched cocoa cooling beside him.
He had barely slept in days.
The thoughts, the numbers, the calculations—they never stopped. His mind had become a battlefield of futures, each more complex than the last. Prithvi Systems had just secured a tentative contract from the Ministry of Education. Garuda chips were silently being embedded in classroom prototypes. His investment shell companies had crossed ₹500 crore in hidden assets. The revolution was no longer an idea—it had begun.
But victory tasted hollow in solitude.
He glanced at the old sketchbook beside him. The one from 2009. The first year he'd returned. Between pages of circuit diagrams and encrypted protocols were faded drawings of smiling children—friends he never made. People who never got to see who he really was. He traced a finger over one page: a cartoon version of himself, holding hands with other kids under a sun labeled "Hope."
Ram closed the book slowly, as if sealing away a version of himself that no longer existed.
There had to be more out there—others like him. Not time travelers, perhaps, but misfits. Outliers. Invisible sparks in the dark who didn't fit the world they were born into. Kids dismissed by their schools, mocked by their families, forgotten by the system. And if there were… he had to find them.
Not to save them.
To build with them.
He stood abruptly and opened his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. Code streamed down the screen—encrypted crawlers launching across academic forums, IQ databases, Olympiad results, regional competition archives. He set parameters beyond just intelligence: creativity, anomaly patterns, irregular submissions, expulsion records.
> "I want the ones they gave up on," he whispered. "The ones the world rejected."
By sunrise, the algorithm had flagged 113 names. He stared at them like a man discovering a hidden tribe.
There was a twelve-year-old girl in Mizoram who'd built a radio from scrap parts and hacked a local broadcast tower just to play Beethoven in the jungle.
A blind boy in Tamil Nadu who could solve complex calculus problems by listening to the tone of someone's voice as they read them aloud.
A runaway from Kolkata who taught himself machine learning using stolen time at cyber cafés and had posted AI art years ahead of its time.
Ram's chest swelled—not with pride, but with recognition.
These were not children.
They were embers. Waiting to be lit.
---
That evening, Ram drafted a proposal. On the surface, it was another NGO initiative—Project Ekalavya. A scholarship program for "atypical brilliance in underserved communities." But behind that façade, Ram designed something else: a network. Private mentorship cells. AI-led development zones. Customized curriculums. Social camouflage and stealth relocation programs.
He wasn't just funding them. He was activating them.
And in every welcome package, disguised as an educational tablet, was a slim Garuda chip—loaded with Athena Lite, a warm voice ready to guide them, just like she had guided him.
He would never meet most of them. Not directly. Not yet.
But they would hear from "Ram."
Sometimes as a message.
Sometimes as a challenge.
Sometimes just a whisper in their code.
"You're not alone anymore."
---
Weeks passed. The network grew.
From rooftops in Rajasthan to forest clearings in Meghalaya, little beacons of brilliance began to pulse with life. They didn't know they were part of something bigger. They only knew someone believed in them. Someone who saw them. Someone who gave them tools and asked for nothing in return.
And across the world, the first sparks of Ram's Hidden Flame Movement flickered to life.
---
One night, months later, Ram sat beneath the stars again. But this time, he wasn't alone.
On the terrace beside him was Kavya—a twelve-year-old robotics prodigy from Pune, one of his earliest recruits. She didn't know the full truth. But she knew enough to stay.
They didn't speak for a long time. Just listened to the night.
Finally, she said, "Why do you care about kids like us?"
Ram thought for a moment.
Then replied, "Because I used to be one."