A Shattered Evening

Anuj Singh’s life had always been driven by a passion for history. A brilliant strategist at heart, he often found himself lost in the tales of Bharat’s forgotten warriors, the grandeur of lost empires, and the tragedies that had shaped the subcontinent. He had spent years researching military strategies, ancient technologies, and economic policies that could have changed Bharat’s fate. But in the modern world, all of that knowledge was just an interest—a passion that had no real impact on the present.

At 26 years old, Anuj was a professor of history at Delhi University, specializing in military strategies of medieval India. Despite his young age, he had earned a reputation for challenging the mainstream narratives, often presenting alternative theories about Bharat’s past. He believed that if the right leaders had access to advanced warfare tactics, better governance models, and economic policies, Bharat would have never fallen to invaders.

That evening, after finishing a lecture on the Battle of Panipat, Anuj decided to meet his friends at a café in Connaught Place. The bustling market was alive with neon signs, the aroma of street food, and the chatter of people enjoying the evening. The conversation among his friends revolved around work, politics, and personal ambitions. But Anuj’s mind was elsewhere—trapped in the corridors of time, contemplating how history could have been rewritten.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

A loud explosion ripped through the air, shattering windows and sending debris flying in every direction. The force of the blast threw Anuj backward, his ears ringing from the sheer intensity of the shockwave. His vision blurred as dust and smoke filled the air. People screamed, running for their lives, while others lay injured or lifeless around him.

Terrorists had targeted one of the busiest commercial centers of Delhi. Anuj’s body was broken, his chest bleeding from shrapnel, and his limbs refusing to move. As he lay on the cold pavement, his mind raced—not in fear, but in frustration.

"Is this how it ends?" he thought, bitterness creeping into his fading consciousness. "All my knowledge, all my ideas... wasted in a world where they will never matter."

As the darkness closed in, his final thoughts weren’t of regret, but of a wish—a desperate longing for a chance to change the course of Bharat’s history.

And then, everything faded to black.

When Anuj opened his eyes again, the sky above him was painted in hues of orange and gold. The scent of sandalwood filled the air, and a cool breeze rustled through silk curtains. He was no longer lying in the rubble of a city, nor did his body ache with pain. Instead, he found himself in an opulent royal chamber, decorated with golden pillars, intricate carvings, and luxurious fabrics.

His hands, once calloused from typing on a laptop, were now stronger, rougher—the hands of a warrior.

A sudden rush of memories flooded his mind—memories that did not belong to him. He saw himself standing in battle, leading warriors into war. He saw court meetings, alliances, betrayals. He saw a world without modern technology but filled with opportunity.

Then, he saw his reflection in a polished bronze mirror.

Gone was the face of Anuj Singh, the modern historian. In his place was Raja Hemchandra Vikramaditya—Hemu, the last hope of native rule before the Mughal conquest.

And just like that, he realized he had been reborn.

The System Activates

As Anuj tried to make sense of his situation, a blue translucent screen appeared before his eyes.

[Welcome, Host.]

[Initializing the Bharat Restoration System…]

Shock and disbelief filled his mind, but before he could react, a wave of information flooded his consciousness. Technology, warfare strategies, political structures, economic models—all tailored for the era he was now in.

[You have three months before the Second Battle of Panipat.]

[Your mission: Prevent Bharat from falling to the Mughals and reshape history.]

Anuj’s heart pounded. He had studied this period his entire life. The battle ahead was one of the most decisive moments in history—one that had sealed Bharat’s fate for centuries.

But this time, history would not repeat itself.

This time, he would change everything.

As he steadied himself, a knock came at the door. A royal attendant entered and bowed deeply.

"Maharaj, the ministers are waiting for you in the court."

Anuj—now Hemu—took a deep breath. The weight of a kingdom rested on his shoulders, but for the first time in history, Bharat had an advantage—knowledge from the future.

He stood up, his mind racing with possibilities.

Weapons. Roads. Infrastructure. Military strategy. Trade. Governance.

He had three months before the decisive battle.

And he would use every second to ensure that Bharat never fell again.

The Burden of a Throne

As Raja Hemchandra Vikramaditya—Hemu—walked through the grand corridors of his palace, he felt the weight of history pressing upon his shoulders. The polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of oil lamps, and the scent of sandalwood filled the air. This was no longer a dream. He was here. This was real.

The Bharat Restoration System had given him an impossible gift: three months to rewrite history before the Mughals marched toward Delhi. He knew what was at stake. If history played out the same way, he would fall in the Second Battle of Panipat, and Bharat would remain under foreign rule for centuries.

"Not this time," Hemu thought, his hands clenching into fists. This time, Bharat would not fall.

A palace attendant bowed as he approached.

"Maharaj, your council awaits in the court."

Hemu nodded and stepped into the royal durbar—the grand court where the fate of the kingdom would be decided.

The Royal Court and the First Meeting

Inside, his ministers and generals had already gathered. The chamber was vast, adorned with golden pillars and intricate carvings of past victories. These were the men who would help him change the future—or doom it to failure.

At the head of the gathering was Tukaram Das, his finance minister, a man known for his sharp mind and careful accounting. Next to him sat Raghunath Rao, a seasoned military commander, his expression calm but observant. Keshav Pandit, his chief strategist, was already busy reading a scroll. Several other advisors, including the minister of agriculture, head of trade, and master of spies, were also present.

They all rose as Hemu took his seat on the throne of Delhi.

"Let us begin," he said, his voice firm.

The ministers exchanged glances. Something about their king seemed... different today.

The Reality of the Situation

Tukaram Das was the first to speak.

"Maharaj, the treasury is stable, but war preparations will drain it quickly. We must be cautious with spending."

Hemu leaned forward. The economy would be the backbone of his strategy. Without funds, there would be no weapons, no roads, no army.

"What is the current tax rate?" he asked.

"Ten percent, Maharaj."

Hemu shook his head. Too high.

"Reduce it to five percent."

A murmur spread across the room.

"But Maharaj," Tukaram protested, "lowering taxes before a war—"

"Will make the people wealthier," Hemu interrupted. "A strong economy will support a strong army. Reduce the tax, and instead, we will introduce a new currency system."

Tukaram blinked. A new currency?

Hemu continued.

"From now on, the kingdom will use three types of coins: gold, silver, and copper. One gold coin will be worth 100 silver coins. One silver coin will be worth 100 copper coins. One gold coin should be able to feed a family of four for six months."

The ministers exchanged glances. A standardized currency system? In this era? It was unheard of. But the logic was sound.

Strengthening the Kingdom’s Core

Raghunath Rao, the military commander, cleared his throat.

"Maharaj, the real concern is the Mughals. Akbar’s forces are strong, and they have advanced artillery. We do not have the firepower to match them."

Hemu smiled. That would change.

"That brings me to our next order of business. I want all blacksmiths and weapon-makers in the kingdom to report to me within the next three days. We will begin production of a new type of weapon—firearms."

The room fell into silence.

"Firearms?" Keshav Pandit asked, frowning. "You mean… like the ones the Portuguese trade?"

Hemu nodded. Gunpowder weapons existed in this era, but no one in Bharat had mastered their production at scale. That was about to change.

"We will begin mass-producing muskets and cannons. Our army will be trained in their use immediately. No longer will we rely solely on swords and elephants."

Raghunath Rao stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If this works, we could match the Mughals in battle… or even surpass them."

"It will work," Hemu assured him. "But that is only one part of our plan."

He turned to the minister of infrastructure.

"We will begin construction of new roads—highways that will connect every major city, every village, every trade route. If an army cannot move quickly, it cannot win wars. I want the first roads built within two months."

The minister hesitated. "Maharaj, such a project would take years!"

Hemu’s eyes burned with determination. "Not if we use the entire kingdom’s workforce. Pay them well, and they will build faster."

Tukaram nodded. "With the tax reduction, the people will have more spending power. They will work hard if they are rewarded fairly."

Hemu smiled. Finally, they were beginning to understand.

A New Dawn for Bharat

As the meeting continued, Hemu laid out the foundations of his new intelligence network, the training of elite soldiers, and plans to expand naval power to control the seas. Every detail was carefully considered.

By the end of the session, his ministers looked exhausted but inspired.

"Maharaj," Keshav Pandit said, "these plans… if they succeed, Bharat will become unstoppable."

Hemu stood, his voice echoing across the chamber.

"Then let us begin."

This time, history would be written not by invaders—but by Bharat itself.

The Challenge of Change

As dawn broke over Delhi, Raja Hemchandra Vikramaditya—Hemu—stood atop the palace balcony, watching the city awaken. Merchants opened their stalls, soldiers trained in the courtyards, and couriers rushed through the streets carrying messages. The kingdom moved, but it was not yet ready for war.

He had three months to turn a fragmented realm into a fortress of power. The Mughal forces, under Akbar and Bairam Khan, would come for Delhi soon. This time, Hemu would not let history repeat itself.

The first step in his plan had been taken—the ministers had been briefed, and orders had been issued. But planning was meaningless without the right people to execute it. Today, he would gather the finest minds of Bharat—warriors, engineers, strategists, spies, and visionaries.

A messenger entered the chamber, bowing deeply.

"Maharaj, the experts you summoned have arrived. They await in the durbar hall."

Hemu exhaled slowly. This was the moment everything would begin.

The Gathering of Minds

The royal durbar was filled with men of different backgrounds. Some were noblemen, others commoners. Some were old masters of their crafts, others young prodigies. Each was chosen for a reason.

Hemu sat on his throne, scanning the gathered individuals.

Tukaram Das – Minister of Finance (Master of economics and trade)

Raghunath Rao – Supreme Commander (Master of warfare)

Keshav Pandit – Chief Strategist (Tactical genius)

Baldev Singh – Master Blacksmith (Expert in metallurgy and weapons crafting)

Nand Lal Suri – Engineer (Specialist in fortifications and road construction)

Jagan Malik – Head of Intelligence (Spy network expert)

Jayaram Seth – Naval Commander (Master of shipbuilding and sea warfare)

Hemu’s voice was calm but firm as he spoke.

"Bharat stands at a turning point. The Mughals march upon us, and we have three months to prepare. Each of you has been called because your knowledge will shape the future of this land."

The men nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Let us begin."

Forging the Arsenal: The Weapons Council

Hemu turned to Baldev Singh, the blacksmith.

"Tell me, how advanced are our forges?"

Baldev Singh bowed. "Maharaj, our weapons are among the best in the land, but we still rely on traditional methods—swords, spears, and bows. The Mughals, however, use muskets and cannons."

Hemu nodded. That would change.

"From this moment, I want all weapons forges focused on three things: Muskets, Cannons, and Armor."

Baldev hesitated. "Maharaj, muskets are expensive and slow to reload. Can we rely on them?"

Hemu smiled.

"That is why we will improve them. I want a team of the best blacksmiths working day and night to create a musket with a faster reload mechanism. Also, we will produce lightweight cannons that can be moved easily on the battlefield."

Raghunath Rao’s eyes gleamed. "If we achieve this, Maharaj, our army will be unmatched."

"We will achieve it," Hemu said with certainty.

The Roads of War: Infrastructure Strategy

Hemu turned to Nand Lal Suri, the engineer.

"How fast can we build new roads?"

Nand Lal frowned. "Maharaj, under normal conditions, building highways across the kingdom would take years."

"What if you had unlimited manpower?"

The engineer hesitated. "With enough workers, we could complete major roads within two months, but the cost—"

"The cost is not an issue," Hemu interrupted. "The roads will be built with a dual purpose: Military movement and trade. I want all cities connected by highways and secret routes built for messengers and spies."

Jagan Malik, the head of intelligence, nodded. "Secret routes will be essential for moving information and supplies without enemy interference."

Hemu looked back at Nand Lal. "Begin immediately. Take as many workers as you need."

The engineer bowed. "It shall be done, Maharaj."

The Web of Shadows: The Intelligence Network

Hemu now turned to Jagan Malik, the spy master.

"We need intelligence on the Mughals, the British, the Dutch—every potential enemy."

Jagan smirked. "That is already in motion, Maharaj. We have spies embedded in Mughal camps. They report that Akbar’s forces are gathering near Panipat."

Hemu leaned forward. "And what of internal threats?"

Jagan’s face darkened. "Many nobles do not trust this sudden change in strategy. Some may conspire against you."

Hemu smiled coldly. "Then we will handle them before they become a problem."

Jagan nodded. "I will have my men watch them closely."

Dominating the Seas: Naval Expansion

Hemu turned to Jayaram Seth, the naval commander.

"Bharat’s future depends not just on land but also on the sea. How strong is our naval power?"

Jayaram sighed. "Maharaj, we have skilled sailors but no organized navy. The Portuguese and Dutch control the seas."

"Not for long," Hemu said. "I want shipyards built along our coasts. Within three months, we must have warships ready."

Jayaram bowed. "I will oversee the shipbuilding personally."

The Future of Bharat

As the meeting continued, plans were made for military training, resource management, and governance reforms. By the end of the session, the council was exhausted but determined.

Raghunath Rao stood and saluted. "Maharaj, I have served many kings, but none have planned like this. Bharat will rise under your command."

Hemu looked at the men before him. They were not just his advisors. They were the architects of a new era.

"Prepare yourselves," Hemu said. "In three months, we will change history."

The revolution had begun.