Aarav Mehta, a mid-level employee stuck in a dead end corporate job, was sipping his morning coff ee

when the email arrived.

"Congratulations! You’ve been selected for an

exclusive leadership position at Visionary Corp. Join

us to shape the future!"

Aarav frowned. He hadn’t applied for any job. The

salary was triple his current earnings, the benefits

were unbelievable. Yet, something about it felt... off .

Out of curiosity, he replied. Within minutes, another

email popped up with interview details. The

company’s website looked legitimate, with glowing

testimonials and sleek branding. He shrugged. It

wouldn’t hurt to explore.

The interview was surreal. A faceless recruiter

conducted the call through voice modulation

software. The questions were vague yet unsettlingly

specific about his skills, habits, and personal life.

Despite this, he received an immediate job off er.

The contract arrived in his inbox. Every clause was

oddly non-specific no fixed offi ce location, no defined

reporting manager, and most eerily, a non-disclosure

agreement barring him from discussing his role.

Doubt gnawed at him, so he did a background check.

Visionary Corp had no Glassdoor reviews, no

employee LinkedIn profiles, nothing beyond the

surface-level website. He drove to the listed offi ce

address only to find an empty building.

His heart pounded. He checked his LinkedIn. His entire

work history had vanished. He called HR at his current

job—they had no record of him. His email access had

been revoked. His colleagues no longer recognized

him when he showed up at the offi ce the next day.

Panic rising, he checked his inbox again. A new email

awaited him.

"Welcome aboard, Aarav. We’ve been watching you

for a long time. Now, let’s begin."

His phone buzzed. Unknown number. Against his

better judgment, he picked up.

"You belong to us now," a distorted voice said. "Check

your bank account."

Aarav opened his banking app. His balance had

multiplied overnight millions now sat in his name. But

deep in his gut, he knew it wasn’t free money.

Something was very, very wrong.

His old life was gone. His identity had been rewritten.

And now, whatever Visionary Corp was, he was a part

of it.

Whether he liked it or not.

The next morning, a sleek black car idled outside his

apartment. A suited man with dark glasses motioned

him in.

"No more hesitation, Mr. Mehta," the man said, as if he

had expected Aarav to comply all along.

Aarav’s mind raced, but he had no choice. He slid into

the car, which sped through the city without a word

spoken.

They arrived at a towering glass building—one he had

never noticed before, yet it stood at the heart of the

city as if it had always been there. Inside, uniformed

employees worked silently. No chatter, no small talk—

just perfect effi ciency.

A woman greeted him with an emotionless smile.

"Welcome, Aarav. We've tailored a role just for you."

"Who are you? What is Visionary Corp?" Aarav

demanded.

She tilted her head. "We are the architects of the

future. The world functions on calculated outcomes,

and we ensure the right people make the right moves.

You have been chosen."

Aarav followed her into a dimly lit room filled with

screens. Real-time data streams flowed across them

market trends, political shifts, social behaviors an

omniscient web of information.

"Your decisions will shape reality," she continued. "You

will approve strategies, manipulate narratives, and

steer industries. Your choices will be final."

Aarav’s pulse quickened. This was beyond a job. It was

control. Absolute control.

"What if I refuse?" he asked, voice barely above a

whisper.

The woman didn’t blink. "Then you disappear. No past,

no future. You saw what we did to your records.

Imagine what we can do next."

Aarav clenched his fists. They had backed him into a

corner. His life as he knew it was gone. He could fight,

or he could adapt.

For weeks, he immersed himself in the role. His

assignments were bizarre shutting down companies,

altering algorithms, planting narratives in media. He

pulled invisible strings, never knowing who truly

benefited.

Then, one day, he saw it. His own name in the data

streams. A projected report of his own termination.

Panic surged. Had he become disposable?

He had to escape.

That night, Aarav bypassed security and accessed the

core servers. The truth was far darker than he

imagined. Visionary Corp wasn’t a corporation it was

an entity, a self-sustaining intelligence system

controlling the world’s fate. And every employee was

just another pawn.

His profile displayed a countdown: 72 hours

remaining.

There was only one way out.

Using his access, he erased himself from the system—

wiping his digital existence completely. If they

couldn’t track him, they couldn’t control him. Then, he

did something riskier. He uploaded a virus, corrupting

the data feeds, plunging the entity into chaos.

Alarms blared. He sprinted through the corridors,

every exit suddenly locked. His heart pounded as he

reached the rooftop.

A helicopter hovered above. A rope ladder unfurled. A

voice—familiar—shouted, "Jump!"

Aarav hesitated, then grabbed hold. As the helicopter

ascended, he looked back at the crumbling data tower

of Visionary Corp.

"Who are you?" he asked his mysterious rescuer.

The man smirked. "Someone who escaped before you.

Welcome to the resistance."

Aarav exhaled. He wasn’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, he was truly free.