Varun stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the assembled men, his voice calm and resonant.
"Dear brethren," he began, his tone respectful yet firm, "I understand the unease that lingers in your minds, the questions that swirl about my origins."
"But I assure you, there will never come a day when our paths diverge, when we stand against each other."
"We are united by a common purpose, a shared vision."
He paused, letting his words settle, then continued, his voice gaining a sharper edge.
"To advance our cause, to truly ignite the spark of freedom from the descendants of invaders, our first step must be the restoration of your leader, V.D. Savarkar."
"And for that purpose, I have already devised a plan."
"However," he added, his expression turning serious, "there are certain… issues we must address."
A murmur rippled through the gathered men. "Why," one of them asked, his brow furrowed, "must we free our leader first? Why not pursue other actions?"
Varun's gaze settled on the speaker. "V.D. Savarkar, your leader, is also the president of the Hindu Mahasabha."
"For our cause to gain momentum, to unite the people of India, we need a powerful voice, a unifying figure."
"Your leader possesses that voice, that charisma."
"He can address members across the entire subcontinent, igniting their passion and rallying them to our cause."
"His freedom is not just a symbolic victory; it is a strategic necessity."
Varun's words hung in the air, their logic undeniable.
The assembled men exchanged thoughtful glances, their initial skepticism giving way to a grudging acceptance.
They understood the strategic importance of freeing Savarkar.
He wasn't just a leader; he was a symbol, a rallying point, a voice capable of igniting the dormant fires of revolution.
But this time, Narayan Savarkar, his voice laced with a pragmatic urgency, posed the crucial question.
"Then what? After we ignite this momentum, after we rally the nation, what is our next step? Do we stage protests? Do we raise arms and engage in open battle?"
Varun's gaze held a quiet intensity. "We will do none of those things," he replied, his voice low and deliberate.
"Our first step, after securing your leader's freedom, will be to cloak our true purpose under a veil of silence."
Narayan frowned, confusion clouding his features. "I do not understand."
Varun leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"We will raise our voices, yes, but not in defiance."
"We will call for those who wish to aid the poor, who seek to maintain social order, who desire to contribute to the betterment of our nation."
"We will build a facade of benevolence, a public face of charity and order."
"But beneath this guise," he continued, his eyes gleaming with a strategic cunning, "we will secretly recruit and train a loyal network, a clandestine intelligence service."
"They will be our eyes and ears, gathering information from every corner, from every shadow, wherever we need it."
Narayan Savarkar, his brow furrowed in contemplation, posed the critical question.
"But how?" he asked, his voice laced with pragmatic concern.
"How would we receive these secret messages, this vital intelligence, from people scattered across every corner of India? And even if we do manage to receive them," he continued, his voice growing more urgent, "it would likely be too late."
"Our transportation systems are rudimentary at best. By the time we receive the information, the enemy, with their established networks and experienced operatives, will have already acted."
"They have eyes and ears everywhere, and they know how to utilize them efficiently."
Varun, his expression unwavering, replied with a quiet confidence. "For that," he said, his voice resonating with an almost unsettling certainty, "I have a solution."
"And I assure you, if we implement it correctly, our intelligence service will not only be the best in the Indian subcontinent, but, in the near future, it might... nah! IT WILL be the most formidable in the world."
Varun's audacious claim hung in the air, a statement of such magnitude that it momentarily silenced the room.
Not just the gathered men, but even Narayan, seasoned and skeptical as he was, was visibly taken aback.
He quickly regained his composure, though, his trust in Varun's abilities tempered by a healthy dose of caution.
He would not blindly accept such a bold assertion.
Noticing the stunned expressions—the mixture of disbelief and intrigue—Varun offered a simple explanation.
"The solution," he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, "is simple. We will build a device, a device that allows people to communicate over long distances."