Night had settled softly over Hope Island, the quiet hum of waves brushing against its reinforced green shores. The research dome—heart of Project Veda—glowed faintly under the moon, its energy fields whispering like a living being. Inside, the last simulation of the day faded from the holo-table, leaving a shimmering afterglow.
Dilli exhaled slowly.
Betal—his silent guardian, strategist, and the only being who understood the burden of cosmic knowledge—stood beside him.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Betal broke the silence.
"You saw the simulation, Dilli."
Dilli nodded.
The global reaction model was unmistakable.
Project Veda—an ancient-science-meets-future-tech breakthrough capable of altering energy, climate, and defense paradigms—would not be seen by the world as knowledge but as power. A power no nation would allow to exist quietly on a remote island owned by a single visionary.
Betal zoomed the projection out, showing flashing hotspots across the globe—intelligence agencies, private defense conglomerates, and certain governments whose ambitions hid beneath diplomatic smiles.
"The moment Veda is displayed," Betal said, "you will not just attract attention… you will attract fear. And fear is the mother of war."
Dilli clenched his jaw.
Hope Island had been built with a dream: a sanctuary of science, harmony, and green life. Not a battlefield. Not the center of political tug-of-war between nations.
He walked to the observation window, watching the dark silhouette of the island's green cover—the very legacy he had shaped with relentless devotion. The families living there, the workers, the migrants he had welcomed, the elders who trusted him… They all depended on his decisions.
"We stayed low-profile in Cosmos United," Dilli murmured, his voice heavy.
"Yet even our smallest patents are being tracked. If Veda is revealed…"
Betal completed the sentence quietly:
"Hope Island becomes a target."
A target for surveillance.
A target for infiltration.
A target for takeover.
Betal displayed the final alert—an unfiltered version of the geopolitical prediction crystal.
Five major powers. Eleven covert organizations. Four defense blocs.
All would converge within six months of Veda's exposure.
Dilli felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
He turned decisively toward Betal.
"No public demonstration. Not now. Not until the world is ready."
Betal's eyes flickered with a rare hint of approval.
"Wise. The knowledge of Veda must be protected… not displayed."
Dilli continued:
"We scale down Cosmos United's visible operations. Fewer external contracts. No open research conferences. No tech expos. Everything we develop will be decentralized and hidden under harmless divisions."
Betal nodded.
"And Hope Island?"
Dilli looked back at the land he had nurtured like a living child.
"Hope Island will remain a sanctuary. No expansions. No public announcements. We blend into the background until the world forgets to look at us."
Silence settled again, but this time it was a silence of resolve, not fear.
Betal touched the control panel, locking Project Veda behind quantum encryption—a vault so complex that even future civilizations would struggle to break it.
"Project Veda will sleep," Betal declared.
"Until the time comes when knowledge will be welcomed… not weaponized."
Dilli nodded.
And in that moment, the fate of Hope Island shifted—saved not by power, but by restraint.