________________________________________________________________________________
- Goa -
- September 12, 1936 -
The night air was thick with the scent of salt and gunpowder as Karna and his squad moved through the colonial district of Goa. The old Portuguese fort, a relic of foreign rule, lood ahead, its walls lined with guards who had no idea their fate had already been sealed.
Karna glanced at the figures beside him who barely exceeded twenty in numbers, each more than a match for an army. They weren't just warriors; they were the embodint of Aryan's will—mutants, and inhumans, each one capable of dismantling a city if needed. Their number was small, but their strength made numbers aningless.
A subtle hand gesture from Karna, and the assault began. Silence followed. No alarms, no gunfire—only the quiet collapse of resistance as the superpowered warriors moved like shadows, dismantling defenses before the Portuguese officers could even reach for their weapons. Within minutes, Goa was no longer under foreign rule.
Karna stepped onto the balcony of the Governor's Mansion, looking over the now-secured city. The European officials and their soldiers lay bound, their expressions ranging from defiant to terrified. He knew Aryan would send officials soon, but for now, the city belonged to them.
----------
- Pondicherry -
- September 14, 1936 -
The French governor of Pondicherry had barely managed to dress himself when Karna entered his office. The doors hadn't even been forced open—his n had walked through walls, past guards, past every so-called defense. The governor's hand trembled as he reached for the pistol on his desk.
Karna didn't even acknowledge it. "Don't."
The single word carried enough weight that the governor froze. Karna took a seat across from him, eyes cold. "This colony no longer belongs to France."
The governor swallowed hard. "You can't—"
"I already have." Karna leaned forward, voice calm. "There will be no bloodshed if you surrender and order all your n to stand down. You will be given safe passage back to France."
The governor looked at the reports in front of him—communications from his officers, all saying the sa thing. Resistance had crumbled. His hands curled into fists before he finally exhaled in defeat. "Very well."
Karna stood. "A wise choice." He turned, leaving the governor to his own thoughts as the weight of history pressed down on him. By morning, Pondicherry would no longer be a foreign outpost.
By the ti the last colonial enclave had fallen, Karna knew his mission was nearly complete. With Goa, Pondicherry, and the other minor outposts secured, all that remained was for Aryan to send in the bureaucrats and military forces to take control. His own people had done what was needed—swift, precise, without unnecessary destruction.
Standing atop a governnt building in Goa, Karna let out a slow breath. The stars above were unmoving witnesses to history shifting beneath them. Soon, there would be no remnants of foreign rule in Bharat.
His job was done. Now, It was Aryan's turn to shape what ca next.
----------
- Secret Hideout, Near Delhi -
- September 15, 1936 -
The air inside the underground chamber was thick with the scent of damp stone and the faint tallic tinge of dried blood. The only source of light ca from the dim lanterns lining the walls, casting long, wavering shadows across the room. Karna stood at the center, his expression unreadable, his stance unwavering. Across from him, Aryan sat in a high-backed chair, fingers interlaced, his blue eyes locked onto Karna with quiet intensity.
Karna spoke with asured precision, his voice firm but devoid of unnecessary embellishnt. "The French and Portuguese enclaves have been secured. No resistance of significance. Our forces took control before they even understood what was happening. Their colonial guards were neutralized without excessive casualties. The territories are now awaiting the arrival of our administrators and military detachnts."
Aryan nodded, satisfied. "Efficient. I'll have the necessary personnel deployed within the week."
Karna continued, shifting his focus. "As for the conspirators—Jinnah, the Nawab of Junagadh, the Nizam of Hyderabad, and Mountbatten—they are in our custody. Their bodies may be intact, but their spirits are broken. The Nizam has been reduced to silent despair, the Nawab barely speaks, and Jinnah, while still trying to maintain his composure, is beginning to understand the futility of his ambitions."
A smirk played at the edge of Aryan's lips. "And Mountbatten?"
Karna allowed himself the smallest hint of satisfaction. "A wreck. He soiled himself when I first confronted them. Now, he refuses to et anyone's gaze. His British arrogance has crumbled."
Aryan leaned back, his blue eyes darkening with sothing colder, more predatory. "Good," he murmured. "You did well, Karna." There was no reprimand for Karna's brutality, no disapproval. Instead, Aryan's expression carried a quiet approval, his gaze sharp with understanding. He knew what Karna had done, and he had no reason to condemn it.
"Do with them as you see fit," Aryan said, his voice steady. "I'll handle the political cleanup. Their disappearances—or rather, their eventual deaths—will have explanations that satisfy the world. Rumors, carefully placed narratives, logical yet uncertain fates. The world will believe what I want them to believe."
Karna inclined his head, his own satisfaction hidden beneath his usual calm. Aryan's trust was absolute, and that was all that mattered.
"As for Mountbatten," Aryan continued, his expression twisting into sothing cruel, sothing almost amused, "he is still a diplomatic guest. Killing him outright would be an unnecessary provocation. Instead, hand him over to our officials. Ensure his return to Britain is accompanied by the most humiliating treatnt ever witnessed on foreign soil. He ca here thinking himself untouchable. Let him return knowing exactly What it ans to be powerless."
Karna chuckled lowly, the sound devoid of humor. "Consider it done."
Aryan rose to his feet, his gaze shifting toward the entrance of the chamber. The matter was settled. The enemies of Bharat would fade into obscurity, their ambitions buried beneath the weight of their failure. And as for Mountbatten, the world would witness his disgrace, a warning to any who thought to challenge Aryan Rajvanshi's rule.
With one final glance toward Karna, Aryan smiled—a cruel, knowing smile that held the weight of an empire behind it. "Now, let's finish what we started."
-----------
- October 3, 1936 -
The morning of October 3, 1936, would forever be rembered in British history as a day of unparalleled humiliation. The Royal Navy had received an urgent distress signal from an old, near-derelict ship floating aimlessly in the North Atlantic, barely a hundred miles from the British Isles. By the ti they reached it, the truth had already spread across the world's newspapers.
Mountbatten, the once-proud British officer and royal, who was sent by the Crown to find a way to divide Bharat and ensure that it remained internally unstable, was found aboard the vessel, drenched in seawater, his uniform tattered, his dignity in shreds, muttering unintelligible words occasionally as if hed had lost all his sanity. He was not alone. Accompanying him were several British nationals who had been arrested in Bharat during the height of its freedom struggle—forr colonial officers, intelligence agents, and bureaucrats who had long been forgotten by their own governnt. Now, they were returned in disgrace, with nothing but the tattered clothes on their backs and the sha of their nation's downfall clinging to them.
The Bharatiya naval forces had done their work with ruthless precision. They had stripped Mountbatten and his group of every ounce of authority, ensuring that when they were finally left adrift, they had no power, no wealth, and no semblance of command left. The vessel itself was a ssage—an old, rusted British ship, once used to transport Indian prisoners during the height of British rule. Now, it served as a coffin of British arrogance, a floating symbol of its shattered imperial pride.
News of this act spread like wildfire. Every major global newspaper, from The New York Tis to Le Monde, carried headlines detailing the utter humiliation of the British Empire. "British Royal and Officers Abandoned at Sea—A New World Order Erges!" declared one. "Bharat Returns Colonial Masters in Disgrace," stated another. The Tis of London could barely contain its national embarrassnt, calling it "the most degrading mont for British diplomacy in modern history."
Diplomatic channels buzzed with outrage. The British governnt was forced to acknowledge that Mountbatten had been lawfully expelled from Bharat, and despite their protests, the fact remained: he had been returned alive. The circumstances of his return, however, sent a clear ssage—Britain was no longer the empire that once dictated terms to the world. Now, it was being dictated to.
In stark contrast, the European colonial administrators from Goa, Puducherry, and other enclaves were returned to their respective nations in a far more dignified manner. The Portuguese and French officials were escorted back with minimal disgrace, a calculated move by Aryan Rajvanshi's administration to further isolate Britain diplomatically. The world took notice. France and Portugal, while acknowledging the loss of their territories in Bharat, retained their political standing, whereas Britain had been thoroughly humiliated on the global stage.
The final blow ca when the footage of Mountbatten's return was leaked. The film showed his arrival on British soil—wet, disheveled, and greeted not with military honors but with whispers and stares. The Royal Family, though obligated to acknowledge him, distanced themselves from the debacle. No hero's welco, no grand speeches—just silence and quiet disgrace.
The ssage was clear: The era of British dominance was over. Bharat had not only expelled its forr rulers but had ensured that they returned ho in the most dishonorable way possible. And the world had watched it happen.
________________________________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading 🙏 🙏.
If you are liking this story so far please support this novel through the power stones and let know your thoughts in the comnts and please review the book with ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ if you deem it worthwhile.
Reviews
All reviews (0)