Jwala Vayu
Chapter 3 -
Narendra Goel, now the representative for Pune, made a formal announcement via video, urging people to focus on survival instead of power struggles. However, political groups opposed him, gathering in protests and engaging directly with the storm—with dire consequences.
“People are doing their best to deal with this apocalyptic catastrophe,” Narendra stated. “We are losing lives by the hour. Reports indicate that Pune has already lost 20% of its population in just five days. We need humanity, not human error.”
Yet, driven by ego and desperation, many refused to listen.
A Call for Help
Narendra called Sanju.
“Sanju?”
“Sir?”
“I’ve heard a lot about you—your work, your leadership. First, I want to say, I’m deeply sorry for your losses.”
Sanju sighed. “It’s… okay, sir.”
“Twenty percent of Pune’s people are gone. With no official government, politicians are turning this into a power struggle. They don’t see the cost of human life.”
“They’re willing to outweigh humanity with power.”
Narendra nodded. “I know you have volunteers helping you.”
“Some willingly, some because they have no other choice.”
“There’s a lead,” Narendra continued. “The Indian Meteorological Department in Pune has classified data. If we retrieve it, we might understand the storm better.”
Sanju’s grip tightened. “We’ll check it out.”
Sanju and Rahul arrived at the Indian Meteorological Department in Pune. Inside, a few survivors had taken refuge. They offered them food and water, then turned their focus to the computers and data archives.
Clearing space for incoming survivors, Rahul organized supplies while Sanju scanned the files. His eyes widened.
“Oh my God!”
Rahul turned. “What?”
Sanju pointed to the screen. “The head meteorologist here received classified data from the U.S. Climate Centers. They had already been tracking an acid storm forming over specific coordinates.”
Rahul frowned. “Where?”
Sanju took a deep breath. “Alaska.”
Rahul tensed. “Then how did this data get here?”
Sanju glanced around. “Maybe the head of this department knew something.”
Rahul searched nearby desks and suddenly stopped. He picked up an ID badge—stained with blood. “We can’t ask him. He’s gone.”
Sanju clenched his jaw. “But his system might still have sent emails, stored drafts—something.”
Venkat and Roy received the data. Roy’s face twisted with rage. “Son of a bitch!”
They traced the origins of the data. It led to the same American official who had initially denied the storm’s existence. He finally admitted the truth.
“The meteorologist here was a former colleague of mine. I— I’m sorry. We lacked manpower to analyze the storm data, so I sent it to him for faster results. But… he died before he could send back his findings.”
Roy’s voice was ice. “He was about to send it back to you. If we survive this, I’ll make sure your career doesn’t.”
Venkat analyzed the stored data. “The storm’s origin was uncovered deep beneath Alaskan ice. It fed on life—animals, humans—and grew exponentially. The theory was right, but we realized too late. The storm is now beyond control.”
Roy swallowed hard. “It’s become too powerful.”
Moments later, the storm wiped out a major part of Pune.
Roy immediately issued a national directive: “No more major gatherings. Effective immediately.”
Goel’s leadership began taking effect. Sanju gathered more volunteers, assigning them different areas. But then, local goons—hired by corrupt MLAs—attacked them. They left them outside in the storm.
Fury burned in Sanju’s veins. He met with the MLAs, attempting to reason with them. “We need to unite to save Pune.”
But karma struck swiftly. The storm hit their cars, crushing them into their own mansions before swallowing them whole.
Sanju could only watch.
As the storm spread, the PM and President were moved to underground bunkers. Roy and his family were among those secured. Meanwhile, scientists gathered samples of the storm’s particles for study.
Then, Sanju’s phone rang.
“Sanju!!!”
His heart stopped. Kiara.
Sanju rushed to Kiara’s location. She was heavily pregnant and struggling. Her young son, Ayush, peeked from his hiding spot.
Sanju lifted Ayush. “We need to leave. We have 30 minutes.”
Kiara groaned in pain. Sanju loaded them into his jeep and raced toward a hospital shelter.
By the time they arrived, Kiara’s water broke.
A doctor rushed over. “Are you the father?”
Sanju shook his head. “No.”
Rahul arrived as ‘free time’ began. He chuckled. “Man, long time no see, Kiara!”
Sanju sighed. “First say ‘congrats’ after the baby is born.”
A nurse emerged. “It’s a girl!”
Tears welled in Kiara’s eyes as she cradled her newborn. “Thank you, Sanju. Without you, Ayush and I wouldn’t have made it.”
Sanju forced a smile, remembering the moment Meera had told him she was expecting. That joy was stolen from him.
That night, Narendra Goel called Sanju for an update.
As they spoke, Narendra’s granddaughter chased a ball toward the door.
Narendra’s heart froze. The storm had started.
Sanju saw it live on the call. “No!!!”
The door burst open.
Narendra’s wife vanished near the stove, her clothes igniting a massive fire. The gas exploded, destroying the house, and the storm swept away the remains.
Sanju stood in stunned silence. Roy muttered, “That’s a tragedy.”
Days later, two new representatives were selected. They ignored Sanju’s warnings. They gathered people—and perished in the next storm.
The news reported grimly: “Pune’s population has dropped to 50%.”
Sanju knew the worst was still to come.