"My name is Ayaan Ranade."
It was a simple statement, yet it held so much weight. The name echoed in the quiet of his mind. Ayaan had never been one to flaunt his achievements, but today, he couldn't deny the significance of the moment. This was who he was now-Ayaan Ranade, a name that had been molded and sharpened over years of hardship, training, and sacrifice.
Ayaan wasn't just a soldier; he was a sniper. A title earned through relentless dedication, not through luck or chance. His skills with a sniper rifle were unrivaled. From the moment he had picked up his first rifle, he knew it wasn't just about shooting targets-it was about mastering the art of patience, precision, and unseen strength. Every sniper shot was a puzzle, one that required the perfect alignment of skill, timing, and the environment.
Today, standing before the mirror in his training uniform, he could feel the weight of the future ahead. There would be many more challenges, many more targets, and many more decisions to make. But Ayaan knew one thing: he was ready for whatever came next.
Ayaan adjusted the collar of his uniform, the fabric crisp and ceremonial, as he walked alongside Dev toward the venue. The grandeur of the hall was evident in the polished floors and the distant murmur of voices gathering inside. Dev, his closest friend during training, nudged him with a grin. "Looks like you're ready to soak up all the glory, Ayaan." Ayaan chuckled but remained silent, his focus ahead as they approached the entrance.
Just as they stepped inside, a familiar voice pierced through the air, laced with sarcasm. "Look who decided to show up-the sniper prodigy and his loyal sidekick." It was Rohit, Ayaan's long-standing rival. He stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his smirk unwavering. "Tell me, Ayaan, how does it feel to have a reputation that's bigger than your actual skills?" Dev's jaw tightened, but Ayaan remained calm, offering only a curt glance before walking past.
As Ayaan passed him, Rohit stepped closer, leaning in to whisper into Ayaan's ear. "I was selected for Project M." he said, his voice low and smug. Ayaan paused for a moment, his expression unchanging, before continuing forward. Dev shot Rohit an irritated glare, but Ayaan's calm demeanor remained unbroken, silently resolving to let his actions speak for themselves.
Before Rohit could add more fuel to the fire, the voice of Captain Rathore boomed from the stage, silencing the room instantly. "Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats. The award ceremony is about to begin." The commanding presence of Rathore left no room for arguments, and even Rohit fell silent, though his gaze lingered on Ayaan with a competitive edge. Ayaan and Dev quickly found their seats, the tension fading as the ceremony began in earnest.
The stage lights illuminated Rathore as he began his speech, his authoritative tone resonating throughout the hall. "Today, we honor those who have demonstrated exceptional dedication, discipline, and skill during their training. You are the future protectors of this nation, and it is a privilege to witness your growth." His gaze swept over the audience before he continued, "And now, it is my honor to introduce the leader of our nation, someone who has always valued and supported the bravery of individuals like yourselves. Please welcome President Aditya Rajan to the stage."
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Ayaan's gaze finally settled on the stage as he saw President Aditya Rajan for the first time in real life. Having seen the President's image countless times on television and in the media, he was struck by the difference between the image and the person standing before him. The President exuded a calm and graceful aura, his presence commanding immediate respect. Ayaan couldn't help but admire the man for the dignity and composure he carried with him, even in such a high-profile ceremony.
In the back of his mind, Ayaan found himself quietly praising Aditya, the President. He'd always believed that true leaders had a way of making everyone around them feel safe, secure, and assured, and Aditya Rajan was no exception. Ayaan could see that the man wasn't just a figurehead-there was something genuine about his presence, as if he truly understood the weight of his position. It was something Ayaan respected deeply, but his thoughts quickly shifted to more pressing matters.
As the ceremony continued, Ayaan's mind wandered back to the Tragedy of Numn University. The memory still haunted him-over 600 innocent lives lost in the blink of an eye. That incident had happened 1.5 years ago. Only five survived, and those few were now known as The Survivors of Numn University. The incident had shaken the country to its core, leaving scars that would never fade. Ayaan remembered reading articles about the incident, and one detail that had caught his eye: the marks of an axe, etched into the walls of the university. How could something as primitive as an axe cause that level of destruction? It was a question that lingered in his mind, unanswered.
Coincidentally, just a few days after the tragedy, the President announced a nationwide recruitment drive to bring in talented youth for special training programs. Ayaan had received a recommendation from the President's bodyguard-a man he still didn't know personally.
The most troubling part for Ayaan, however, was the realization that even Project M, a highly secretive gathering of exceptional individuals, had been unable to prevent the disaster. Only a few knew of its existence, and currently, only four individuals-President Aditya Rajan, Rathore, Rohit, and Ayaan-were aware of its existence. Despite the project's remarkable resources and its members' skills, the tragedy at Numn University still occurred. Ayaan couldn't help but feel disappointed. If Project M-with all its talent and secrecy-couldn't stop the catastrophe, then what was the point of such an initiative? The failure of Project M to prevent the Tragedy of Numn University left a bitter taste in Ayaan's mouth, making him question the very purpose of their efforts.
Captain Rathore's voice broke through Ayaan's thoughts as he began calling up some of the other honorees for their awards. Ayaan barely paid attention as several individuals were recognized, each one receiving applause from the audience. His mind remained preoccupied with the thoughts of NUMN University and Project M. He felt an uneasy weight settle on his chest, as if the answers he sought were just beyond his reach.
When Rathore's voice rang out again, calling Rohit to the stage, Ayaan's focus snapped back. He could hear the murmurs of the crowd as Rohit stepped up to receive his award, his posture oozing self-assurance. Rohit's eyes immediately locked with Ayaan's as he made his way to the stage. Ayaan felt a familiar smirk spread across Rohit's face, a look that instantly made his irritation flare.
As Rohit stood there, accepting his award, he leaned slightly toward Ayaan and Dev, who were seated just a few rows away. With a smug expression, he whispered to Ayaan, "I was selected to Project M." The words were barely audible over the applause, but they cut through the air like a sharp blade. Rohit knew the power of his words, and he relished in the opportunity to remind Ayaan of his place. The mocking glint in his eyes said everything.
Dev, noticing the interaction, shot Ayaan a concerned glance. But Ayaan didn't react, his eyes narrowing slightly as he held his focus on Rohit. The tension in the air was palpable, but before anything more could unfold, Rathore's voice rang out once again, calling the attention of the crowd. It was time to move on with the ceremony.
Ayaan's irritation with Rohit lingered in the air like a storm cloud, but he forced himself to refocus. He settled back into his seat, trying to block out the mocking gestures Rohit had thrown his way. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Rathore's voice echoed through the room, calling out his name.
"Ayaan..."
But before the sound of his name even fully registered, a sharp, metallic noise filled the air, low-pitched and faint, yet distinct enough to send a shiver down Ayaan's spine. His senses sharpened instantly, and in that split second, he saw a shadow move on the stage-a figure cloaked in darkness, swift and menacing.
A crimson glow radiated from the object in the figure's hand-an axe, gleaming with a deadly edge. The figure was already in motion, its target clear: Aditya Rajan, The President.
Ayaan's heart raced. Instinctively, his body reacted faster than his mind could process, and he sprang to his feet. The room seemed to freeze in that brief, harrowing moment, the scent of danger thickening in the air. But just as quickly, the figure disappeared from view, and the chaos was contained.
Seconds later, Ayaan heard Rathore's voice once again, calling out his full name: "Ayaan Ranade."
But it wasn't the usual announcement-it was as if the words were meant only for Ayaan, resonating with a strange weight that only he could feel.
As Ayaan stood there, the crowd erupted in applause. The sound was deafening, yet Ayaan's focus remained unshaken. He felt a surge of pride but kept his expression neutral. Around him, the praise and admiration flowed, not just from the crowd but also from Rathore, who stood on the side with a look of approval. His friend, Dev, also beamed with pride, offering a supportive nod from the audience. But even amidst the cheers, Ayaan couldn't shake the feeling of Rohit's mocking glances from across the room. The smug smile on Rohit's face didn't waver, his silent jabs as cutting as ever.
As Ayaan made his way to the stage, his thoughts were still sharp from the eerie moment moments ago. He kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the task at hand-his award, the recognition that he had worked so hard for. As he neared the podium, he caught sight of Rohit once again. The mocking glint in his eyes hadn't faded. Rohit leaned back in his seat with a smug grin, his eyes fixed on Ayaan, as if daring him to react. But Ayaan ignored it, his focus now entirely on Aditya Rajan.
The President stood poised, waiting with a warm, welcoming expression. As Ayaan reached the stage, Aditya Rajan extended his hand. With a firm handshake, Ayaan could feel the weight of the moment settle in. The warmth of the President's grip was a silent acknowledgment of Ayaan's achievements.
"Congratulations, Mr. Ayaan Vee..." The President's voice was calm and measured, the words carrying the gravity of the occasion.
Then, Aditya Rajan paused for a fraction of a second-just long enough for Ayaan to catch a shift in his gaze. The moment felt strangely intimate, as if the entire room was holding its breath.
"...Ranade, Ayaan Ranade" The President continued, finally completing Ayaan's full name.
It was a simple correction, but in that small pause, Ayaan felt something stir in him-an unsettling feeling that Aditya Rajan's recognition of him was more than just about the award.
Ayaan's mind briefly wandered back to the words of The President. As the applause continued, the thought lingered in his head, grounding him in the reality of the moment. It wasn't just any day-it was 20th October 2022. The day he received his first crowning glory. It marked the beginning of a new chapter, a pivotal milestone in his journey.
Despite everything, Ayaan couldn't deny that this recognition was significant. It was the culmination of years of sacrifice, hard work, and determination.