"Try this one," Raj said, throwing a prototype model pad on the desk.
Zayed took it and said "Looks cleaner than last time."
Uday raised an eyebrow and asked -"Is that… sponge layered with belt straps?"
Raj answered –"Light, strong, and adjustable. No clips, just pull-and-hook."
They stood in the corner of the storeroom again, surrounded by scraps of foam, cloth, old helmet straps, shoe soles. It didn't look like an ideal lab.
But something about it felt like one.
RajCraft wasn't built in a factory.
It was growing in silence, slowly through need, effort, and faith.
Raj tested the pad on his arm, tightening it with a worn strap and moved his elbow. It didn't move.
[System Alert: Gear Integrity 92%]
Prototype 2 Passed Practical Use Test
RajCraft Product Line: 2/3 Items Complete
Next Item Suggestion:
Custom Grip Wrap or Wristguard with Personal Seal
Raj nodded slowly.
"That's the one," he whispered.
At practice the next day, Raj wore the new arm pad without telling anyone.
They were doing net sessions again light pace, focus on control. He batted in as the third down batsman and faced Manish, the sharp left-arm spinner who already dismissed him twice in the same week.
Ball 1 – tossed wide.
Raj step one leg front and swept clean — two runs.
Ball 2 – quicker, into the body.
He stepped back and pulled low past midwicket.
Ball 3 – short.
Raj stepped out, faked the loft, and touched it gently for a single.
Simple shots.
But people noticed.
Even Manish praised -"Your movement's cleaner than before."
"It's the glove," Raj said with a small smile on his face.
But inside, he knew it wasn't just the glove.
It was the confidence behind it.
And the ambitions that kept him going the need to prove himself without saying a word.
That evening, while washing his practice clothes on the terrace, Raj noticed Priya nearby, helping a younger student carry a bag of cricket cones.
She spotted him. Walked up slowly.
"You stitched that new pad?"
Raj nodded.
"Can I see it?"
He handed it over.
She studied the pad, traced her finger along the inner lining, then looked up to him.
"It's rough," she said, "But clever."
Raj smiled. "We'll smooth it out later."
She looked at him with big eyes, thinking about something.
Then asked him "Did you ever lose something really big?"
Raj stunned.
Just for a second.
But she noticed.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because sometimes you act like someone who's already failed once. But still isn't afraid to try again."
He didn't answer.
But the silence was loud enough.
The next morning, Raj found a small box placed in his desk drawer.
No label and details.
Inside: an old cricket grip torn, faded but with a piece of red ribbon tied around it.
And a note:
"The first time you lost, you blamed your gear.
Now your gear carries your name.
Finish it."
Raj's heart beat faster.
This wasn't something random.
[System Alert: Identity Echo Detected]
Signal Strength: 61%
Observer knows your past timeline.
But their identity is still locked.
Raj folded the note and pressed it in his arms.
Someone out there didn't just know who he was now.
They knew who he had been before.