"The night was calm, much too calm for Layla's spinning mind. Only the ever present whirr of the fan was keeping her tethered to reality, its drone reverberating against the emptiness."
"Layla sat at the brink of her father's once treasured armchair. The amchair was old, just like the feel of the room. With her palm resting motionlessly on her lap, she was fixated on a tiny, cold, black USB flash drive that lay with her palm."
"Her father's life was rooted in secrets, devices that route to betrayal are devices that siphon breathe. They are also, however, the very essence of existence."
She didn't know what to expect when she plugged her USB into her father's laptop. It's not like this situation was simple in the first place. But in this instance, hope was surpassing beyond expectations. The laptop files were encrypted, however, by no means was Layla a novice when it came to technology. She spent numerous restless nights immersed in the world of code cracking, untangling webs, and overcoming the obstacles that stood before her dad. Someone needed to teach her all the things he didn't have time to teach her, and now it was up to her.
She was prepared.
Seeing the files open piqued her excitement, and it was a wave of incomparable joy. Accompanying voice memos, pdfs, and word documents, she found a file named, "If anything happens." Layla believed it could potentially be the one piece of the puzzle she desperately needed, so clicking on it sent her nerves surging.
The recording started with heavy breathing, the sound of someone trying to calm themselves. Her breathing paused as she focused intently on the audio. The calm voice that spoke next was unlike anything she had heard before, and she could tell at a glance this wasn't the casual version of him.
> "Layla… If you are listening to this, I probably did not get the time that I needed. I'm really sorry. I've kept all of this to myself for a long time. But now it's too late. Kamal… he is not who you think he is. It's not that he is just after money. He is after power. Control over everything and I could not stop him. The Azra Project… it is not just a system. It is a weapon. It changes the way people think. It rewrites reality itself."
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Layla has been horrified once again. Up until this point, her father had hidden so many things from her. But with this information, her father is in far deeper trouble than she could imagine. It felt like her mind was spinning, feeling lost in a maze where none of these signs made any sense. What in the world is Kamal trying to do, and how the hell could her father decide to keep this information away from her?
> "I am the one being used over here. Seems like this entire conflict was set up where I am being played like a pawn in Kamal's grand scheme. What he is planning will destroy me in the end, and Kamal is going to do the same to you Layla, mark my words. He is utterly untrustworthy. We've spent years in a timeline that should never have existed."
The rest of her father's words echoed in her mind. If this message comes to her, it means she is miles ahead of everyone else. But at this point in time, she needs to act faster than think or everything will go haywire if she chooses to hesistate too much, and ultimately will lead her father ruin untimely doom.
Why do I need to touch the overdriven pedal of an automatic if I am getting too much speed in the first place?
"Kamal is like a hawk, waiting for his chance to pounce on his unsuspecting prey, and lure them into an abyss of eternal darkness."
Over all that commotion, the recording seemed like it trailed off into uncharted lands, caught in a moment where sounds are shattered, hanging from strings of silence," leaving Layla entrapped in that cap of emptiness untouched.
Each statement added to the burden that she had been carrying as her father's words reverberated in her thoughts. Kamal was not merely a businessman gone awry. He was a cunning sociopath, a mastermind controlling all of those around him. And now, her father's demise was logical. It was not a heart attack. It has never been a heart attack. It was Kamal.
With wide eyes, Layla spun to face the desk, fingers gripping the edge until her knuckles turned white. She had known something was wrong, but not to this extent. She could hardly begin to fathom.
However, there was more. As she continued sifting through the files, she came across one marked, "Raven Project." Myriad details concealed in "Raven Project" makes its bizarre name seem concerning. Her father's handwriting, frantic and rushed, epitomized panic, covered its margins.
Raven Project. It sounded as if it had come from a science fiction novel. But the harsh reality hit her like a ton of bricks as she read the details. It was not merely a set of files; the Raven Project was a sophisticated system meant to control reality- cyberspace, information, even perception. Now, while Kamal was using her father's research for his crime, Layla was the only one left who could save the world.
Her father had known. He had known that Kamal was planning something far more dangerous than just stealing his inheritance. Kamal was after control—control over everything, and he had used her father as a stepping stone.
Each detail combined into a burden that pulled Layla down. She could sense the rage that began to bubble in her throat, but it was doused by something profound. Terror. Terror of what this could implicate. Terror of the influence that Kamal must've had by now. Terror of what he will do next.
First, she was sitting down and then she was standing up. Something inside of her forced her to walk freely up and down the room. There has to be a solution somewhere. This must not be a solo mission but, rather, a collaborative project. She must seek help, but what allies should she get exposed to?
Aidan crossed her mind. She reached out to him already. She sent him a message, yes, but now, coming face to face with what she planned to ask him, prepared her overall for the worst. Aidan Rayyan was not a man used to being generous. He wasn't quite the type willing to grant help just because someone asks him, and he certainly didn't extend himself out of his own kindness.
And yet those were the cards fate dealt her. If what she had gathered about Kamal was accurate and he did want proper dominion for his fantasies, then all of his assets, specifically Aidan's connections, influence, and authority, that would be pivotal for me to strengthen my position against the opposition.
Layla picked her phone to call him. She waited while his phone rang for three cycles, fully expecting the call to end unanswered.
"Howdy, Layla," she received as a response. His voice adopting its familiar tone, devoid of any emotion. "I was expecting your call at some point."
"I require assistance with something," the urgency in her tone was unmistakable, regardless of how composed her voice sounded. "I want you to help me destroy Kamal. Everything that is in your possession and every resource you have access to—name any figure and I will compensate you."
A moment of stillness took place on the call. Waiting for Aidan's voice to fill the silence.
"Layla is an interesting character, isn't she." The response she received was not what she was expecting, smooth, almost calm, yet chilling, "I assumed that is how you would respond. I shall assist you, but tread lightly on your canvas of desires. Fulfilling any request at this magnitude comes at a cost. Are you prepared?"
"Stripped of everything, I simply have a singular heartbeat that skips while racing." That was the beat at which her heart cancelled all but one pulse. Even as she didn't want to. It was planned this way. "This aggrieves me the most, but the truth is simple. I need my life back. And that is only achievable through a forceful reclaim."
"Works for me," surge control her trembled, but she managed to let out a timid response matching her heart rates while clenchin
g her fists, "I promise. I will do every single thing needed."