Mumbai woke up angry.
Phones buzzed before alarms.
Screens filled before windows opened.
Ramkrishan lay on his bed, one arm behind his head, phone held loosely above his face. Twenty-three. Awake since dawn. Not because of fear—because of opportunity.
The Prime Minister's announcement replayed for the third time.
Player Task Force.
Regulation.
Neutralization.
Ramkrishan smiled.
"So it finally begins," he muttered.
He wasn't a hero.
Wasn't a criminal either.
At least, not yet.
Ramkrishan remembered the day the Tower opened.
Mumbai had screamed that morning.
Sirens. Network collapse. Messages freezing mid-sentence.
And then—
the pull.
No warning.
No choice.
One moment he'd been standing on the balcony of his rented flat, watching smoke rise from the highway.
The next, the world folded.
Cold stone under his feet.
A sky that wasn't a sky.
The Tower.
It loomed without distance, without scale—too close and infinitely far at the same time.
Then—
cut.
No long battles.
No heroic speeches.
No memories worth replaying.
Just survival.
A translucent screen hovered in front of him.
He stared at it.
Not the stats.
Not the level.
The skill.
[SPECIAL SKILL]
Name: Soul Contract
Type: Unique / Passive–Active Hybrid
Acquisition: Anomaly (Chance-Based)
Ramkrishan's smile slowly widened.
A line of text pulsed beneath it.
Effect:
Form binding contracts with other players.
Terms are enforced by the Tower.
Violation results in soul backlash.
No cooldown listed.
No range specified.
No limit shown.
Outside, Mumbai was arguing with itself.
Inside Parliament, people would be shouting.
Online, everyone was choosing sides.
And here he was—
holding a skill that didn't need strength,
didn't need numbers,
didn't even need loyalty.
Only agreement.
Player Task Force.
Ramkrishan's thumb flicked the screen down.
He exited the news app and opened another icon.
Guild Chat — "Ramkrishan"
Members: 4
He snorted softly.
Four.
Founder included.
New messages were already waiting.
Neha: govt finally lost it. task force just for players??
Dhruv: neutralize is a scary word sounds like permission to hunt
Rakesh: Parliament's already losing it. Opposition's screaming dictatorship.
Ramkrishan: relax this only matters if we do something illegal
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then came back—faster this time.
Ramkrishan watched the messages stack.
Same pattern.
Fear first.
Noise next.
He typed.
Ramkrishan: then we stay clean contracts ,clear rules,no street fights
A pause.
Neha: sounds boring
Ramkrishan smiled.
He let his vision drift—just a little.
The translucent window responded instantly.
[Soul Contract — Standby]
Awaiting mutual consent.
He didn't activate it.
Not yet.
Ramkrishan: boring survives ,loud burns
He sat up.
Four people wasn't a guild.
It was a group chat with delusions.
That had to change.
He reopened the app.
Ramkrishan: we need structure
Typing started immediately.
Dhruv: like what
Ramkrishan: roles,rules,no freelancing
He sent another message before they could joke it away.
Ramkrishan: meet at my flat,today
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Neha: today??
Dhruv: what's so urgent
Rakesh: something happen?
Ramkrishan stared at the screen for a second.
Then typed.
Ramkrishan: need to discuss future and something important
The chat exploded.
Neha: what important
Dhruv: bro just say it here
Rakesh: don't hype and disappear
Ramkrishan smiled and put the phone down.
No replies.
No clarifications.
Let them wonder.
Some things were better said face to face.
They weren't strangers.
All four of them had grown up within the same few lanes of the neighborhood.
Same school.
Same local ground.
Same evening chai stall.
They'd fought together.
Skipped classes together.
Survived Mumbai together.
That was why Ramkrishan had picked them.
By evening, they'd all be there.
He stood and moved to the window.
Down below, the city looked normal.
Traffic.
Horns.
People pretending nothing had changed.
But Ramkrishan knew better.
The Tower had changed the rules.
The government was trying to catch up.
And his friends—whether they liked it or not—were already part of something bigger.
He turned back toward the room.
Tonight, they wouldn't just be friends.
They'd become a guild.