New Delhi,
Late 1920
The grandeur of the Prime Minister's residence could not mask the solitude that often settled over Arjun Sen in the quiet hours of night. As India's youngest and most formidable leader, his days were crowded with decisions that shaped millions of lives—but it was the weight of his immortality that truly defined him in the moments when the world was still.Arjun paced the dimly lit corridors, memories flickering like ghostly shadows. Decades stretched before him, yet the faces of those he had loved and lost resurfaced with painful clarity—their mortal lives cut short by fate's cruel hand. Each loss a wound deeper than any political defeat.In this loneliness, a solemn vow took root within him: he would never marry, never bind himself to another soul who would be destined to wither while he endured. His heart, steadfastly guarded, belonged fully to the nation he had freed and now served. The sacrifice was profound but necessary, for in loving others, he risked unbearable loss."I am bound to this land, to its people," he whispered to the Indian tricolor that hung quietly in his study. "My immortality is my burden and my weapon. I will carry it alone, for the sake of those who live brief lives but dream eternal."This pledge was more than a personal choice; it was a commitment to serve without distraction, to shield India from harm not only with policies and diplomacy but with the watchful gaze of the unseen executioner. To marry was to risk vulnerability, but to dedicate himself wholly—to wield his immortality as a shield for the republic—was his ultimate resolve.In the flickering candlelight, Arjun Sen sat silently, the weight of centuries upon him. The future demanded tireless guardianship, and he would meet it alone, with steady hand and unwavering heart.