Among the towering peaks of ancient mountains, in the middle of a remote valley, lay a secluded village that had almost been forgotten by time. In this close-knit community, the passage from autumn to winter was marked by six weeks of relentless cold. During the cold, gruelling weeks of winter, the villagers retreated to their small, sturdy wooden huts, each one a tribute to generations of skill. The huts were strategically placed along the river's edge, their rustic charm blending seamlessly with the breathtaking natural setting. Throughout the villagers' lives, the river offered solace and a soothing backdrop, a constant reminder of nature's capriciousness. Unlike the age-old conventions of age and wisdom, the village had a unique social hierarchy. Here, status was determined by a prized possession—electricity. People who had access to it lived in the upper echelons of society, with their houses filled with the warm, inviting glow of electric light spilling through their small windows at night. However, life unfolded in perpetual darkness for most villagers. They resorted to candlelight and the faint gleam of burning firewood in hearths to stave off the night's encroachment. There are unspoken rules of entry into the elite circle of those who enjoy the benefits of electricity: the common man or woman must bribe the several people who hold the power in various ways. This inner circle, known as the electricity community, was a small yet influential group that not only controlled the literal power source but also the intricate social fabric of the village. They determined who could access their electrical grid, effectively deciding who was truly integrated into the heart of the community. Newcomers had to navigate a labyrinthine web of social interactions, deals, and negotiations that often tested their patience and resourcefulness. But then, one fateful night, the village's tranquillity was shattered by an event that sent shockwaves through every wooden beam of the village. It started with a faint, distant glimmer on the horizon, an eerie and unnatural glow against the canvas of a winter's night—a sign that something was amiss. Watching helplessly as the flames ravaged the grand mansion of the electricity community, panic swept through the village like wildfire. Despite desperate attempts to curb the blaze, the once-proud mansion crumbled into smouldering ruins, its residents tragically lost their lives. Leaving the village in a state of shock and confusion, the once-mighty electricity community had been reduced to ashes. Can you imagine how such a catastrophe could happen to people who control their only source of light and warmth? Speculations and rumours ran wild, casting an air of mourning and confusion over the wooden huts. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and a dark cloud of uncertainty hung heavily over the village. Some thought the fire was an accident, an unfathomable twist of fate. Others, however, whispered in hushed tones, suggesting that something far more sinister was at play—had the electricity community been targeted? Was it an act of vengeance, or perhaps a ruthless attempt to wrest control of the coveted power source? The villagers decided to find out the truth behind the devastating fire in the midst of distrust and suspicion. In the lead was Sarah, a woman with an indomitable spirit whose determination never wavered. It was her relentless pursuit of the truth that inspired others, reviving the sense of unity that had been shattered by the fire. As they delved deeper into the heart of the mystery, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fell into place. It became evident that the fire that had razed the electricity community had not been an accident; it was the result of a sinister plot rooted in revenge and power struggles.