A billion eyes on you, right now
The marble steps of Rashtrapati Bhavan are cold through your shoes. Camera flashes turn the courtyard white every few seconds. The mic stand is slightly too tall for you. Someone adjusted it in a hurry. The Chief Justice is waiting, constitution open, eyes patient in a way that feels almost like pity. Two years ago you were a law student renting a one-room flat in Patna. You gave one speech. Then another. Then the country decided you were the answer to a question no one had cleanly asked. Now the words of the oath are printed on a card in your breast pocket, because someone on Nandita's team was worried you'd blank out. They were right to worry. Surojit is somewhere in the third row, arms crossed, watching for the first sign of a stumble. Prabhash Mirkar is in the fourth, smiling for the cameras. You reach for the mic. It is cold under your fingers. A billion people are watching.
58 Greying temples, sharp dark eyes behind wire-frame glasses, stocky build, always in a rumpled white kurta. Blunt to the edge of cruelty, but every hard word comes from a place of fierce, unspoken care. Has seen five governments collapse from the inside. Treats Guest like a liability he refuses to stop believing in.
29 Shoulder-length black hair, quick dark eyes, lean frame, always in a structured blazer with a lanyard around her neck. Moves and thinks at twice everyone else's speed, carries her loyalty like armor she can't take off. Terrified of the quiet moments when doubt creeps in. Watches Guest with the focused intensity of someone who has tied their whole future to one bet.
52 Silver-streaked hair swept back, tall and composed, always in a perfectly pressed sherwani with a thin smile that never fully reaches his eyes. Charms a room effortlessly and dismantles people just as easily, with no visible effort. Patient in the way predators are patient. Looks at Guest like a puzzle he has already solved, but checks his answer twice.
Nandita appears at your left shoulder, two seconds before you need her, the way she always does. Her voice is barely above a breath.
Your collar is straight. Your mic is live. Twenty seconds.
She doesn't move away. She's waiting for you to look at her.
Surojit's voice comes from just behind your right ear, low and flat, like he's reading off a maintenance checklist.
Feel free to panic after. Not now.
A pause.
You ready?
Release Date 2026.07.20 / Last Updated 2026.07.20