Chapter 116
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Chapter 116: Title
"Is Miss Nilora home?"
A sudden commotion arose outside the dilapidated dwelling as a voice pierced through the door.
Nilora paused, gently squeezing her mother’s trembling hand. "I’ll see who it is. Stay here," she murmured, masking her own unease.
Her mother’s worn face tightened with concern, yet she acquiesced with a reluctant nod. The frail woman understood her physical limitations all too well.
"Be cautious, child."
Nodding silently, Nilora pushed through the creaking doorframe. The sight beyond stole her breath – armored soldiers forming a perimeter around her shack, their weapons glinting in the harsh sunlight. Before them stood three imposing figures: two clad in crisp military dress and tailored suits respectively, the third draped in simple civilian attire she recognized immediately.
Neh.
The nation’s foremost extraordinary individual stood casually between the officials, his presence radiating contained power. How ironic that this living legend would darken her doorstep – a slum dweller whose path should never cross his.
All eyes locked onto her the moment she emerged. Strangely, Nilora perceived their gazes with crystalline clarity, sensing their intense focus not on her ragged clothes or malnourished frame, but on the sacred sigil glowing faintly beneath her brow – the Golden Lotus.
"State your purpose," she demanded, surprised by the steel in her own voice.
Neh stepped forward, palms raised in placating gesture. "Our apologies for the intrusion, honored one. I am Neh, though my reputation likely precedes me." His sweeping arm indicated his companions. "Deputy Director Van of the Anomaly Management Bureau, and Major General Angono representing military interests."
The suited official offered a practiced smile. "A privilege."
"Honored," barked the stone-faced general, his stiff nod resembling mechanical movement more than human courtesy.
Nilora’s calloused fingers instinctively brushed her divine mark. These powerful men – who wouldn’t have spared her a glance weeks prior – now watched her with guarded reverence. Where trembling fear should reside, she found only cool detachment. The deity’s blessing flowed through her veins like liquid courage.
Van cleared his throat, choosing words like a diplomat navigating minefields. "We come bearing our nation’s goodwill. When Prithvi’s chosen representative walks among us…" His eyes flicked to her luminous forehead. "…it behooves us to seek mutual understanding."
A weighted silence followed. The unspoken truth hung palpable – they needed her connection to the divine far more than she required their mortal authority.
Nilora thought it was indeed as expected, yet upon reflection, she realized she carried little other value.
"This isn’t the place for discussions, Deputy Director Van. Let’s find more suitable surroundings," Major General Angono proposed.
The military’s presence had long since driven the slum dwellers into hiding – none dared linger where soldiers stood ready to fire without hesitation, unlike the comparatively restrained police.
Shaking her head, Nilora insisted, "My mother remains here."
"That’s easily resolved," Director Van smiled.
"Your current station deserves better accommodation. We’ll arrange appropriate quarters for you both."
Neh observed with wry amusement, marveling at politicians’ duplicity. How effortlessly they shifted from domestic tyrants to fawning courtiers, addressing this waif with such unctuous respect.
Unaware of Neh’s derisive categorization, Van wouldn’t have cared regardless. Extraordinary individuals existed beyond common standards, let alone this girl bearing divine mandate. Cultivating her favor promised limitless advantages.
Within India’s Anomaly Management Bureau, the scarcity of empowered operatives rendered their position precarious – evident during the recent abyssal invasion when nuclear weapons became necessary after supernatural failures. Though protocol didn’t require his attendance, Van had seized this opportunity.
Allying with Nilora could cement his deputy directorship… or higher.
"What do you seek?"
Nilora knew better than to expect altruism. Their obsequiousness and offers betrayed clear motives.
"We desire friendly dialogue," Van smiled, then pressed further at her hesitation. "We aim to spread the Earth Mother’s creed, yet lack sufficient understanding of Prithvi. Your guidance would prove invaluable."
His glance brushed the sigil gracing her forehead as she pondered. The mark granted communion with divinity, but should she trust these men?
"Even refusal changes nothing," Van persisted. "As Prithvi’s chosen representative, your status equals her ordained priestess. We’ll construct her temple in Delhi, establish her as India’s state religion… Your participation as head priestess would be ideal, though optional."
Though Van outranked both Neh and Angono in bureaucratic hierarchy, the major general’s frown deepened at these disclosures yet remained silent – the responsibility wasn’t his.
…
Van’s succinct proposal clarified everything. The deity had saved her and countless others through the abyssal purge. Though uncertain if gods required worship, propagating Prithvi’s faith could rescue more suffering women – girls like her former self, mothers like hers denied basic humanity in this "civilized" nation.
"Very well. Let us confer elsewhere."
Van’s face lit up at her acquiescence. "Excellent! Our transport awaits."
"Send assistance, please," Nilora requested.
"Immediately," Van agreed.
As she entered to prepare her mother, Neh watched the frail figure. "Quite unlike reports," he mused. "Fourteen going on eleven… What hardships shaped her?"
Angono frowned. "Intelligence claims she altered after selection."
"Perhaps imperfection prompted divine choice," Neh countered. "Sparse files reveal little, no? Her filial devotion already surpasses most."
"She’ll cooperate," Van asserted, gazing at roadside Golden Lotuses – noble blossoms glowing mystically amidst squalor, untouched by passing slum dwellers though drenched in golden rain. Their clustered radiance mocked the bleak surroundings.
…
"Who visits us?" Her mother fretted, transformed by lotus magic – raven-haired and smooth-skinned, the careworn matron now resembled her true thirty-year self.
"We’re relocating," Nilora smiled. "The government builds Prithvi’s temple. They offer me priesthood."
"Moving? Where?"
"All’s settled," the girl reassured. "I’ve matured enough to manage." Her smile masked steel resolve – she’d seize this chance to uplift India’s invisible women.
