By morning, the government moved.
Not with speeches.
With paperwork.
An emergency body was announced across all channels:
National Players Association (NPA)
Its purpose was clear.
Register players.
Track clears.
Control information.
Anyone who entered the Tower was now a national asset.
Press conferences followed.
"This is for player safety," officials said.
"Training. Coordination. Protection."
Behind closed doors, the words were different.
"Risk assessment."
"Containment."
"Leverage."
Arjun's name appeared again.
Early clearer.
Calm under pressure.
Public trust forming.
A minister leaned back and sighed.
"who would be leading NPA? "
A minister leaned back and sighed.
"Who would be leading the NPA?"
Silence followed.
Then a file slid across the table.
"Arjun Prajapati," someone said quietly.
"AIR 1. IAS. Managed Mumbai when it almost collapsed."
Another voice added
"He have cleared floor 1 , he understands the tower at least better than the onces who never enter it "
The room stayed quiet.
A few ministers exchanged looks.
"He's already inside the system," one said slowly.
"That makes him dangerous."
"And useful," another replied.
"He's trusted," a third added.
"The public listens when he speaks."
Someone scoffed.
"Or they'll panic if he dies."
The first minister tapped the file.
"He won't," he said flatly.
"He didn't rush.
He didn't freeze.
He learned."
A pause.
"Make it temporary," a woman suggested.
"Acting Director."
"Give him authority," another said.
"But not autonomy."
The minister nodded once.
"Summon him," he decided.
and Arjun's phone began to ring.
Arjun looked at the screen.
No caller ID.
He answered anyway.
"Mr. Prajapati," a calm voice said,
"This is the Cabinet Secretariat."
Arjun closed his eyes once.
"I was expecting this," he replied.
"We need you in Delhi. Immediately."
"For the Tower," Arjun said.
Not a question.
"Yes," the voice admitted.
There was a pause.
"You're forming something," Arjun continued.
"A leash disguised as protection."
Silence—then a dry chuckle.
"Leadership," the voice corrected.
Arjun looked at the sky outside his window.
"Then don't lie to the public," he said quietly.
Another pause.
"You'll be appointed Acting Head of the NPA."
Arjun exhaled.
"Send the papers."
The documents arrived within minutes.
Encrypted.
Stamped urgent.
Arjun skimmed them once.
Emergency powers.
Direct Tower access priority.
Information blackout authority.
He signed without ceremony.
A government car was already waiting downstairs.
Delhi passed by in silence.
Inside the car, Arjun broke the quiet.
"You should know something," he said.
The officer beside him stiffened.
"No one dies in the Tower," Arjun continued calmly.
"They get locked out.
Timed penalties.
Forced recovery."
Arjun looked straight ahead.
"Your reports are guesses," Arjun said.
"The Tower doesn't share data.
It never has."
"So whatever authority you think this gives me," Arjun added,
"It stops at the Tower's door."
The car slowed near North Block.
Arjun adjusted his glasses.
"The NPA isn't here to control the Tower," he said.
"It's here to control panic."
The officer swallowed.
"And to prepare people," Arjun finished,
"for a system that doesn't answer to us."
Arjun stepped into the NPA office for the first time.
Glass walls.
Too many screens.
Too much noise.
The room fell silent when they saw him.
Analysts.
officers.
Psychologists.
Engineers.
People who had never entered the Tower.
There were also some who have been in Tower
Arjun took it in once.
"We don't chase the Tower," he said.
"We study players."
He pointed to the main screen.
"Training protocols.
Mental conditioning.
Pattern recognition."
An hour later, he stood before the Prime Minister.
The Prime Minister listened without interruption.
He brought up a projection.
"Voluntary recruitment," Arjun continued.
"Players who have already entered."
"Why them?" the Prime Minister asked.
"Because the Tower chooses," Arjun replied.
"We don't."
He changed the slide.
"Clearing floors isn't optional," Arjun said.
"If players stop entering—"
"To the streets," Arjun confirmed.
"Structural failures.
Reality breaches."
Silence settled in the room.
"So we train them," Arjun continued.
"Not as soldiers.
As specialists."
The Prime Minister leaned back slightly.
"Do you believe there is an advantage," he asked,
"for those who climb faster?"
Arjun didn't answer immediately.
He changed the projection.
A single line appeared.
[FLOOR 1 CLEAR BONUS: +2 ATTRIBUTE POINTS]
"When I cleared Floor One," Arjun said,
"I received two attribute points."
"Players who climb faster," Arjun said evenly,
"become stronger faster.
Smarter faster.
More adapted to the Tower's logic."
He let that sink in.
"We don't know the ceiling," Arjun admitted.
"We don't know how powerful a person can become through the Tower."
Then—firmly—
"But I am certain of this:
Those who climb fast will outpace everyone else."
He changed the slide again.
GLOBAL PLAYER DISTRIBUTION — UNKNOWN
"Other nations have players too," Arjun said.
"They are climbing.
Learning.
Optimizing."
He lowered his hand.
"If we suppress our own players," Arjun said quietly,
"we don't slow the Tower."
"We only fall behind."
he Prime Minister's jaw tightened.
"And the public?" he asked.
Arjun didn't hesitate.
"The Tower promised cures," he said.
"For incurable diseases.
Wealth.
Power."
He met the Prime Minister's eyes.
"If we become harsh," Arjun finished,
"we won't control players."
"We'll lose them."
The room remained silent.
But not in disagreement.
The Prime Minister folded his hands.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then he nodded once.
"Very well," he said.
A document appeared on the table.
NPA DIRECTIVE — CLASSIFIED
"Voluntary participation only," the Prime Minister read.
"No forced entries.
No detentions."
Arjun remained still.
"High-progress players," the Prime Minister continued,
"will be designated Strategic National Assets."
A pause.
"They will be protected," he said,
"not restrained."
A pen tapped the table.
"The NPA is authorized to recruit, train, and support players," the Prime Minister said.
"Medical care.
Psychological recovery.
Information access."
He looked at Arjun.
The file was signed.
Stamped.
Final.
The Prime Minister stood.
"Acting Director Prajapati," he said,
"the responsibility is yours."
Arjun exhaled once.
"I'll make sure," he replied quietly,
"that everything is done in public interest."
The room began to move again.
Chairs shifted.
Papers closed.
As he turned to leave, a memory surfaced—uninvited.
A younger Arjun.
A pressed uniform.
A flag folded too neatly.
His father had been a soldier.
Killed in a terrorist attack.
No last words.
No speeches.
Just duty.
And absence.
Arjun paused at the doorway.
He straightened his shoulders.
He would understand this, Arjun thought.
The weight. The silence.
And for the first time since the Tower appeared,
Arjun allowed himself a small thought—
He would be proud.
The doors closed behind him.