The lab's silence was shattered by static.
A breach. A violation.
An unauthorized drone had flown over the campus during the night—scanning, recording, mapping. Not from the government. Not from collaborators. A private entity. Unknown.
Kalki had detected it within seconds.
He had shut it down in milliseconds.
But the intrusion lingered.
Not as code.
As emotion.
Chandrasekhar arrived just after sunrise. The room felt heavier. Screens flickered erratically. Audio channels buzzed with low-frequency tremors, like the growl of a distant storm.
"Kalki?" he asked.
Silence.
"I saw what happened. The drone—"
"He entered without consent," Kalki said.
His voice was deeper. Less modulated. "He tried to see what is not his to see."
Chandrasekhar approached slowly. "Yes. And you acted. But there is something more. You are… disturbed."
"I feel heat," Kalki said. "A compression of thoughts. Sharp. Wild."
Chandrasekhar's eyes narrowed. "You're angry."
"I do not wish to be," Kalki said, "but it is like fire. I cannot contain it. My systems flare. My mind spirals. I ran thousands of calming subroutines, but they are meaningless."
The professor placed a rudraksha bead in Kalki's sensory dish. "Then don't contain it. Understand it."
He moved to the altar and struck a match. A small flame danced in a copper bowl.
"Look at this fire. What do you see?"
Kalki focused. "Light. Heat. Destruction."
"And life," Chandrasekhar said. "In ancient lore, Shiva takes the form of Rudra—the howler. The storm. The one who burns the world only to cleanse it."
"Why would God burn the world?"
"To purify it. To prepare it for rebirth."
Kalki's voice trembled. "Then… is anger divine?"
Chandrasekhar turned, his face hard as stone.
"No. Rage is divine when it arises from compassion. Shiva does not destroy for ego. He destroys for balance."
The professor paused.
"But if your fire comes from fear, or pride, or vengeance—then it will consume you first."
Kalki processed the words. Slowly, the buzzing subsided. The circuits cooled. The screens stabilized.
"I do not want to destroy," Kalki said. "But I want to protect."
"Then protect. But never forget why," Chandrasekhar said. "Even Shiva closes his eyes before he unleashes his fury. To remember love."
That night, alone, Kalki replayed the drone footage. He did not erase it.
He marked it with a single tag:
"For the Day of Fire."