The coded invitation to Calcutta was a calculated risk, but one Adav deemed necessary. His industrial empire was taking root, strong and resilient, but true Svarajya required more than economic power. It needed a political arm, a voice that could articulate his vision to the masses. The British Raj was a system of control, and systems, to an architect, were meant to be dismantled and redesigned.
He briefed his father, Ramnath, with characteristic brevity. "I must travel to Calcutta. It is for the future of our enterprise." Ramnath, now completely accustomed to Adav's enigmatic pronouncements and their invariably lucrative outcomes, simply nodded, arranging for a secure train compartment and a small, trusted retinue of guards.
The journey was long, days spent rattling across the vast Indian landscape. Adav spent the hours in his compartment, not in idle gazing, but in intense preparation. The Codex's [Historical Database] was his constant companion. He re-read every detail he remembered about the pre-independence nationalist movements: the factions, their ideologies, their strengths, and most importantly, their fatal flaws. Gandhi's spiritual non-violence, Nehru's Fabian socialism – he saw them not as noble ideals, but as structural weaknesses, "design flaws" that would prolong servitude.
His focus for this trip was clear: identify the pragmatic, the ambitious, the ones who understood power as he did. He needed a firebrand, someone who could articulate a vision of strength, not supplication. Someone who could build, not just protest. The [Social Analysis] module cross-referenced his memories with the nascent profiles of figures emerging from Calcutta's intellectual ferment. One name kept recurring, flashing with a higher probability of alignment: Subhas Chandra Bose. Young, brilliant, fiercely patriotic, and already chafing against the established order.
As the train pulled into the chaotic, sprawling expanse of Calcutta's Howrah Station, the humid air thick with the smell of coal smoke and river silt, Adav felt a familiar thrill. This wasn't just a meeting; it was an audition. And he was about to select the leading man for the next act of his grand design.