CHAPTER 1 : The First Collison

Rudransh

It was the time before dawn, when the Jaipur palace was still steeped in shadow, that Rudransh Singh Shekhawat found his peace. The only sounds were the rasp of his breathing and the sharp shing of steel against steel. He practiced his sword skills with four of his best men, the strenuous routine forging his lean, powerful body into the perfect weapon.

By 6:00 AM, the rigorous training was done. He was a creature of absolute discipline: a four AM rise, strenuous exercise—whether sword fighting, the gym, or a long run—followed by his morning puja. After that, his beloved work. Rudransh was, by every definition, a perfectionist.

After offering his prayers, he got ready for his office, donning a tailored suit that felt like an extension of his armor. As he came downstairs, he saw the family preparing for breakfast. He briefly greeted his Dadosa (grandfather), who was seated in the living room, and continued toward the entrance.

He had no habit of eating meals with his family. The dining table conversations were filled with petty concerns and social posturing—things he had zero interest in being a part of. He thought, as he signaled his driver, that he preferred the ruthless efficiency of his office to the uncomfortable intimacy of his own home. He was already planning the first acquisition of the day as the heavy palace doors closed behind him.