Chapter 1: The Storm Approaches Karanjit Singh always assumed that knowledge was the key to survival. He was a game designer at San Francisco's Quantum Studios, and his brain functioned on lines that few could even try to understand. His new release, "Cosmic Invasion," had been hailed as a pioneering work—a highly advanced, hyper-realistic game that simulated alien wars on a global scale. He had no notion yet that what he had designed was about to become a very real and chilling reality.
Urban life was a mix of routine and hardship. The high-rise skyscraper offices of Quantum Studios provided a bird's eye view of the cityscape, which Karanjit devoted most of his waking hours to perfecting the complex mechanisms of his game. A man of detail, Karanjit was analytical to the very essence, yet underlined by an unwavering faith in Waheguru. His turban, neatly tied in traditional fashion, was not just a display of his heritage but also the inner strength that he carried.
While a professional triumph, Karanjit bore the weight of a bittersweet past in his heart. Two years before, his wife, Amrita, had passed away in a road accident, a bereavement which had shattered his world to smithereens. The only consolation he found was in his daughter, Mehar, who had inherited her mother's warmth and kindness. Karanjit returned home every evening to read to her a bedtime story—of Sikh martyrs, bravery, sacrifice, and an unwavering faith in justice. It was in such moments that he recalled why he struggled despite the grief—why he still found hope to hold on to.
The storm began quietly. There were reports of unidentified flying objects above Earth's atmosphere. News shows speculated, governments scrambled to find answers, and conspiracy theorists took to the internet with wild theories. At first, Karanjit dismissed it as just another viral hoax, a media-fueled hype to distract the masses. But when the abnormalities began to cause global satellite communication malfunctions, when military bases worldwide lost contact with their forces, the truth was impossible to ignore.
It was during an otherwise quiet evening that the first genuine sign of the invasion made itself felt. Karanjit was sitting in his house, staring up at the night sky from his study window, lost in thought. Meanwhile, Mehar slept peacefully, her beloved stuffed lion clutched tightly in her arms. Beyond his window, the world was shrouded in quiet, but a feeling of uneasy tension hung there—a quiet that seemed altogether misplaced.
And then the lights went out. The whole city was dark. There was a silence so profound that even the distant rumble of far-off traffic fell silent. Karanjit's phone screen flashed with emergency messages: "UNIDENTIFIED AERIAL PHENOMENA DETECTED—STAY INDOORS." His gut clenched with a feeling of unease.
A burst of pulsating light filled the sky. Karanjit rushed out onto his balcony, pounding heart, as a massive ship dropped out of the clouds. Unlike any human ship, it was a single piece of gleaming black metal, pulsating with otherworldly blue energy. The ship lingered for only seconds before a piercing frequency lashed the air, shattering glass throughout the city.
Cries echoed from the streets below. Then, in an instant, waves of energy poured down, igniting buildings on contact. A once-flourishing city became a battlefield overnight.
Karanjit's thoughts were in chaos. This was not an assault, but an eradication. He had taken years to create simulated alien invasion scenarios, but never had he dreamed he would be living one. While the world panicked around him, he realized he had mere minutes to act.
Hastily entering the room, he locked the door and automatically pulled out his emergency survival kit—a habit he had adopted after Amrita's death. Kneeling beside Mehar's bedside, he shook her awake. "Papa?" she said, her eyes still drowsy with sleep as she rubbed them.
"Mehar, we have to go," he whispered, attempting to regain the composure that seemed to elude him. Holding her in his arms, he prayed silently, his fingertips touching the kara on his wrist. Outside, the sky was ablaze. The war had commenced.