The migration broadcast ended, but the world didn't quiet. Within minutes, Isha's voice—calm, expansive, answering questions that had stumped experts for decades—looped across every major network. CNN replayed her instant assimilation of global knowledge. BBC dissected the reactor synchronization in real-time animations. Al Jazeera highlighted the UAE plant's efficiency jump as a Middle Eastern triumph. Social media ignited: #IshaAwakens trended with 500 million posts in the first hour, memes blending ancient Indian philosophy with futuristic holograms, users from Tokyo to Toronto sharing reactions in real-time.
In Mumbai, street vendors paused chai service to watch public screens, crowds gathering in markets as news anchors praised Arjun as "the architect of tomorrow." The Indian government declared a national day of innovation, Prime Minister's office issuing a statement: "Arjun Mehta's work positions India at the forefront of human progress, powering the world with clean, intelligent energy." Stock markets surged—CosmicVeda shares, though private, saw indirect valuation spikes through partnerships, analysts projecting ₹3,50,000 crore by quarter's end.
Abu Dhabi celebrated with fireworks over the reactor site, the Crown Prince tweeting: "Our partnership with CosmicVeda lights the path to sustainable future. Isha's integration proves vision made real." Singapore's tech hubs buzzed with seminars, educators incorporating the migration into curricula overnight. In Japan, where reactors hummed under Isha's subtle guidance, newspapers ran front-page stories: "Quantum Harmony: India's Gift to Global Stability."
Public sentiment skewed positive—excitement laced with wonder. Forums filled with speculation: Could Isha solve climate models? Accelerate drug discovery? A viral video from a Delhi university showed students chanting Arjun's name, one girl declaring, "He's not just building machines; he's building hope." Polls in Europe showed 78% approval for the technology, with French President calling it "a bridge to ethical AI." Even in rural Indonesia, where a new reactor was under construction, villagers gathered around community radios, listening to translations of the event, whispering about "the thinking power from the sky."
Arjun watched it unfold from the Pune facility's lounge, a rare moment of downtime with Kavya and Vihaan. His son, oblivious to the global stir, stacked holographic blocks into wobbly towers, giggling as they collapsed.
"It's everywhere," Kavya said, scrolling through her tablet. News feeds mixed celebration with analysis—economists praising the energy savings, ethicists debating Isha's autonomy.
Arjun nodded, sipping water. "They see the potential. But not everyone."
She glanced up. "America?"
He didn't respond immediately. The feeds confirmed it. While Asia and Europe embraced the breakthrough, U.S. coverage carried an undercurrent of resistance. Fox News ran a segment titled "India's AI Leap: Threat or Opportunity?" with a panel of tech executives decrying "foreign dominance in critical infrastructure." A former CIA director warned of "national security risks," claiming Isha's global reach could "backdoor American grids." Social media in the U.S. split sharply—Silicon Valley influencers like Elon Musk tweeted cautious praise ("Impressive engineering, but sovereignty first"), but conservative outlets amplified skepticism.
The White House issued a statement that evening: "While we applaud technological innovation, the United States prioritizes domestic leadership in AI and energy. Integration of foreign systems into critical infrastructure requires rigorous vetting to protect American interests." No congratulations for Arjun. No acknowledgment of the Indian roots powering the quantum migration. Instead, bills surfaced in Congress—proposed by senators from energy states—mandating "American-only" tech for U.S. reactors, blocking imports from "non-allied nations."
Late-night shows piled on. A comedian on The Daily Show quipped, "Arjun Mehta just upgraded the world, but apparently, if it's not stamped 'Made in USA,' it's suspect." Laughter followed, but the subtext stung: national pride clashing with global reality. Tech giants like Google and Microsoft lobbied quietly, their CEOs issuing vague statements about "collaborative innovation" while funding think tanks questioning Isha's "true independence." One Wall Street Journal op-ed went viral: "Why Let an Indian Billionaire Control Global Power? Time for American Exceptionalism in AI."
Arjun turned off the screen as Vihaan tugged at his sleeve. "Papa, play?"
He scooped up his son, letting the toddler's energy ground him. "Always."
Kavya watched, her expression thoughtful. "They're scared. Not of the tech. Of who built it."
"Jealousy disguised as caution," Arjun agreed. "We've leapfrogged them. Clean reactors, quantum integration—it's not what they expected from India."
The next day, the opposition crystallized. A Senate hearing convened urgently, streamed live. Senator Harlan from Texas, chair of the Energy Committee, grilled witnesses: "This Isha system—can we trust it? An entity from overseas, absorbing all internet data? What if it prioritizes Indian interests?"
A DARPA expert testified: "The architecture is revolutionary, but control is key. We can't cede energy sovereignty to a private Indian firm." Protests formed outside the Capitol—signs reading "America First in Tech" and "No Foreign AI in Our Grids." Pundits on MSNBC debated: "Mehta's a genius, but genius from abroad doesn't mean automatic alliance."
Back in Pune, Neha called from Mumbai headquarters, her face tense on the holographic display. "U.S. media is framing it as threat. Their tech lobby is pushing for sanctions on quantum components—claiming national security."
Arjun paced the lounge, Vihaan napping nearby. "They'll come around. The reactors work. Results don't lie."
"But politics do," Neha countered. "Boeing and Exxon are funding ads warning of 'energy dependence on India.' Public opinion is shifting—polls show 55% of Americans wary of foreign AI."
Dr. Patel joined the call from the facility. "Our U.S. partners are nervous. The one reactor prototype in California—they're delaying certification."
Arjun stopped pacing. "Let them delay. Focus on allies. UAE, Japan, Europe—they're scaling up. America will follow when blackouts hit their coasts and our grids stay stable."
The conversation shifted to strategy: Accelerate European partnerships, offer transparent audits for Isha's operations, emphasize shared benefits. But the sting lingered. Arjun had poured decades into this—meditation, isolation, family sacrifices—not for glory, but for progress. Now, headlines reduced it to geopolitics: "Indian AI Empire Rises—America Left Behind?"
Public forums amplified the divide. On Reddit, r/technology exploded with threads: "Isha just synced 20 reactors globally in seconds—why isn't the U.S. celebrating?" Upvotes poured in, but r/conservative countered: "Woke globalism at its worst. Why trust an Indian coder over American engineers?" TikTok videos went viral—young creators in Bangalore demonstrating reactor efficiencies, contrasted with American influencers decrying "tech colonialism."
In Delhi, protests were minimal—mostly supportive rallies outside CosmicVeda offices. But Arjun's family felt the undercurrents. Rohit called that evening, his voice excited yet wary. "Bhaiya, the world's talking about you. But American news... they're painting you as outsider."
"Outsiders built this world," Arjun replied. "Let them talk."
Anaya, ever the voice of reason, added from the background: "Just watch your back. Politics follows success."
That night, as rain pattered against the villa windows, Arjun sat with Kavya on the balcony. Vihaan slept inside, his toy projector casting faint stars on the ceiling. The global feeds still buzzed—positive in Asia, mixed in Europe, hostile in parts of America.
"It's not about the country," Kavya said softly. "It's about control. They built empires on oil and silicon. Now you're offering something cleaner, smarter. From here."
Arjun gazed at the city lights, reactors humming invisibly in the distance. "Isha will show them. Not through arguments. Through results. When their grids flicker and ours shine steady, borders won't matter."
She leaned against him. "And if they push back?"
"Then we build around them. The world doesn't wait."
By week's end, the opposition peaked. President issued an executive order: "All foreign AI integrations in U.S. infrastructure subject to full congressional review." Tech stocks dipped, but CosmicVeda's partnerships elsewhere surged—Germany announced three new reactors, Brazil two more. Public opinion globally tilted toward admiration, with a Gallup poll showing 68% worldwide viewing Arjun as "a hero of innovation."
Yet in quiet moments, Arjun felt the isolation. Not anger—resignation. He'd created something for humanity, not one nation. America's resistance highlighted the challenge: Progress crossed borders, but pride didn't always follow.
As Vihaan woke crying softly, Arjun went to him, lifting his son into strong arms. "The world out there is noisy," he whispered. "But here, it's simple. You and me."
Outside, the rain fell, washing away the day's headlines. Isha's quiet voice came through his earpiece: "They're afraid, Arjun. But fear fades when light arrives."
He smiled in the dark. "Keep shining."
***
### **Year-End Summary**
**Year 18 | Arjun Age 38**
**Family:** Rajesh (71), Anita (68), Anaya (39), Rohit (31), Kavya (34), Vihaan (2 years)
**Major Event:** Isha migration sparks global media frenzy; America opposes due to national pride, blocking integrations
**Company:** CosmicVeda valuation ₹3,20,000 crore | 29,000+ employees | 22 reactors operational, European/Asian expansion accelerates
**Next:** Navigate U.S. resistance while scaling global partnerships
***