The room is dim, lit only by a flickering streetlamp outside and the cool blue hue of a dusty PC monitor.
A faint hum of machines.
Rain taps against the window like someone trying not to be heard.
NAIRA, hair tied, face half-tired, half-focused, sits at the terminal. Her fingers dance over the keyboard with the softness of habit, not urgency.
NAIRA(softly, almost like asking a friend)
Bidu… is everything okay in the city tonight? Any abnormalities or alerts?
Silence... Then—
A digital emoji-face flickers onto the screen. Uneven circles for eyes, a crooked animated smile.
BIDU (Voiceover)
(chirpy)
No problem, sister-in-law.
NAIRA(flat, rubbing her temples)
Can you not call me that?
BIDU(dead serious)
No.
A beat. Her lips twitch into the faintest smile—but it never fully arrives.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
That's Bidu.
An AI watchdog. A set of eyes. A silent heartbeat inside our machines.
Right now?
It watches over one district.
But tomorrow?
Maybe the whole world.
On the screen: CCTV feeds rotate across rooftops, alleys, traffic lights blinking red in silence.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
Built on scraps of code, scavenged from the dark web, Bidu is…
Untraceable...
Unhackable...
Unreachable...
Every sunrise, it rewrites its own soul.
Even if someone finds it—they'll never find it again.
NAIRA(gently)
Keep watching, Bidu. Report anything that breathes out of place.
BIDU(cheerfully robotic)
Understood, Commander Sister-in-law.
NAIRA(quiet groan)
...Unbelievable.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
It's been two month since the war began…
Not against a villain.
But against silence.
Against waiting.
Aarav has locked himself in the garage, surrounded by sparks and solder, shaping metal like it owes him answers.
As for Anahata—
First, it ate the surface web. Then it devoured the dark web like a starving god.
One night, it simply said:
"We need eyes everywhere."
...Naira opens a half-broken fridge, pulls out a cold bottle. Her eyes drift toward a hallway, under a door where light leaks softly.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
I told Anahata: give the AI to me.
Let Aarav focus. Let him build.
Because if he sees injustice and can't reach it—
He'll bleed himself dry trying.
...She returns to the desk. Her face reflected in the monitor screen looks older, heavier. Not broken. Just carrying too much without asking for help.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
So I lie...
I file anonymous reports...
I call local stations...
He never knows...
It's better that way.
She looks out the window.
Rain has stopped. The city is quiet.
A dog barks two streets away. Somewhere, someone's laughing. Somewhere else, someone's crying.
NAIRA (Voiceover)
At first…
We thought this would be a break...
A hidden holiday...
Lazy mornings...
Street food...
Stolen walks beneath dying neon lights...
But then…
We started improving.
And somewhere...we lost track of time.