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#ADVENTURE
#REINCARNATION
#GENIUS
#KINGDOMBUILDING
#HISTORICAL
#REBIRTH
#ORDINARY
#NOCHEATS

A New India

In an alternate world, the year is 1947, and as India steps into the dawn of its hard-won independence, an extraordinary twist of fate unfolds. A soul from the future, unexpectedly transported back in time, finds himself thrust into the highest office of the land, Prime Minister of a nation on the cusp of rebirth. What follows is a journey through the corridors of power, where betrayal lurks at every corner, and internal strife threatens to tear the fledgling nation apart. Faced with impossible choices, this modern mind must navigate a country marked by political intrigue, international pressures, and the weight of a people’s hopes. But beneath the surface lies a larger ambition, the vision of an Akhand Bharat, a united and unshakable India that rises from the ashes of its tragic past to forge a bold new future. As history begins to unravel and destiny is rewritten, the stakes grow ever higher. What will it take to unify a divided land and bring forth a nation powerful enough to redefine its place on the global stage? In a tale of courage, sacrifice, and the power of leadership, witness the birth of "A New India" unlike any before, a force to be reckoned with, ready to stand among the world’s greats. If you want to support me via PayPal - https://www.paypal.me/Clausmic

Clautic · Historia
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#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#REINCARNATION
#GENIUS
#KINGDOMBUILDING
#HISTORICAL
#REBIRTH
#ORDINARY
#NOCHEATS

The Message Reaches Delhi

It was a typical day in Delhi.

Prithvi, a seasoned operative with the Research and Analysis Wing (R&AW), sat in his office on Lodhi Road, sipping on a glass of cold water.

Prithvi was no stranger to intelligence reports crossing his desk.

Some were crucial, others merely noise.

After years of fieldwork and covert operations, he had grown a keen sense for picking out what mattered.

As the fan rotated lazily above, a clerk entered his office carrying a small, nondescript package.

"A diplomatic pouch just came in from Karachi," the clerk said, placing it on Prithvi's cluttered desk.

He didn't think much of it at first, diplomatic pouches came in all the time, often full of routine information.

But when the clerk added, "It's addressed to you directly, sir,"

Prithvi's hand paused mid-air.

Directly to him? That was unusual.

Prithvi's instincts sharpened as he carefully opened the pouch.