chapter 15
1816 Words
The rain outside drummed a steady rhythm against the windows as Zulfishan sat on her bed, her eyes fixed on her father’s old notebook. The worn pages, filled with strange formulas and hand-drawn circuits, seemed like nonsense before—but now, they terrified her.
In the center of one page was a heading:
"Neural Influence Protocol – Raaz"
A single line followed beneath it, in her father’s handwriting:
“Zulfishan, forgive me. You are the final key.”
She shivered.
She didn’t know much about what this meant, but something inside her told her it was dangerous. It wasn’t just about technology. It was about control—control over human minds.
---
Meanwhile, Mawra stood quietly at the office entrance, watching the building across the street. She didn’t want to be involved again—not like before. But it was too late.
She had helped them test the early versions of the program. So had Salman.
And now… Zulfishan was caught in the middle.
She has no idea what she’s holding, Mawra thought with guilt burning in her chest.
When their father died, everything changed. Mawra had thought they would all move on, find peace. But then Azfar appeared—promising money, secrets, and power.
He wanted the program completed. And for that, he needed Zulfishan.
---
Back in Aabi’s apartment, Zulfishan looked up from the notebook. “Aabi… I don’t understand it all, but this isn’t just software. My father was working on something that could change how people think. Literally.”
Aabi leaned forward, serious. “A mind-control program?”
She nodded. “He called it Raaz. And… I’m the only one who can activate it.”
“Because you’re his daughter?”
“Because my biometric data—my voice, my fingerprint, maybe even my thoughts—were coded into it,” she said softly. “He wanted it protected. Hidden.”
Aabi exhaled. “And Azfar wants to use it.”
Zulfishan’s voice trembled. “What if Mawra and Salman already helped him?”
Aabi’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think they’re involved?”
“I don’t want to believe it. But things don’t add up anymore. Salman has been appearing at strange times. Mawra avoids my questions. And last night… I heard her whisper Azfar’s name on the phone.”
Aabi didn’t reply, but his hand tightened into a fist.
---
Later that night, Zulfishan wandered through the quiet halls of the apartment, her mind buzzing with questions. She paused at the kitchen to get water—and froze when she overheard whispers from the balcony.
It was Mawra and Salman.
“I told you,” Salman said sharply. “She can’t know the full truth yet. She’ll panic.”
“She already suspects something,” Mawra whispered back. “What if she remembers her father’s warnings?”
“She won’t. Azfar said the emotional trauma would block the memories. That’s why he wanted her kept in the dark after her father died.”
Zulfishan’s glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.
The voices stopped. She turned and ran toward her room before they could see her.
---
Inside her room, her body shook. They lied.
They knew everything.
They helped Azfar.
But why?
The betrayal hurt more than anything else.
Her own sister. Her cousin. People she had trusted blindly.
And now, the one secret her father died protecting… was in danger of being used for something evil.
---
In another part of the city, Azfar leaned back in his chair, watching surveillance footage. On one screen, Salman and Mawra argued. On another, Zulfishan paced restlessly in her room.
“She’s close to discovering it all,” he said aloud, smiling darkly.
“Let her. She’s more useful when she’s afraid.”
Next to him stood a woman in a deep maroon shawl—Zulfishan’s stepmother.
“She’s emotionally weak,” she said coldly. “But if you push her the right way, she’ll follow you.”
Azfar chuckled. “She doesn’t know that the more she resists, the closer she gets to activating the program.”
“She’ll come to you. Just like her father did.”
Azfar’s eyes gleamed. “And this time, she won’t escape.”
---
Aabi knocked gently on Zulfishan’s door. “You okay?”
She nodded, wiping her tears. “No. But I’ll be fine.”
He sat beside her on the floor. “Tell me.”
She did. Everything.
How she heard Mawra and Salman. How they mentioned Azfar. How her father’s files pointed to something far darker than she imagined.
“I don’t know who to trust anymore,” she whispered. “My family… betrayed me.”
Aabi took her hand gently. “But you have me. I won’t let anyone use you.”
Their eyes met, something raw and intense flickering between them.
In that moment, she didn’t care about the danger. She just wanted to feel safe. Aabi leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, whispering, “We’ll burn this whole game down… together.”
-----
Zulfishan didn’t sleep that night.
Her mind was too loud, spinning with whispers, betrayals, and her father’s haunting message: “You are the final key.”
The faces she trusted—Mawra, Salman—were now shadows in her heart. She had no choice. Morning light barely broke through the curtains when she made her decision.
She would confront them.
---
In the kitchen, the air was tense. Mawra was stirring tea when Zulfishan stepped in, eyes sharp. Salman leaned against the counter, calm but unreadable.
“I heard you both last night,” Zulfishan said, her voice steady. “You were talking about Azfar. And about me.”
Mawra’s hand froze.
Salman straightened. “Zulfi—listen—”
“You lied to me!” Her voice cracked now. “My father’s project… you knew everything!”
Mawra turned slowly. Her eyes were red but dry. “We were trying to protect you.”
Zulfishan laughed bitterly. “By helping Azfar?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Salman said. “We were forced into it. Your father made enemies. After he died, Azfar came to us with threats. He said he’d expose us, ruin us both.”
“You should’ve told me,” she whispered.
Mawra stepped forward, her voice trembling. “Zulfi… I didn’t even know what Raaz truly was. I thought it was just research—nothing harmful. I never imagined it could control people.”
Zulfishan shook her head. “You still chose silence.”
And then, softer: “You’re not the only ones who were threatened. I was the one he wanted all along.”
---
Later that day, Zulfishan sat with Aabi in his office. The notebook rested between them, open to the strange blueprints.
“I want to turn this around,” she said. “If Azfar wants Raaz so badly… we’ll make him believe I’m ready to give it to him.”
Aabi looked at her, surprised. “You want to bait him?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “We fake a deal. We lure him out. But only to get evidence. To end this.”
He looked hesitant. “It’s risky.”
“I’m already in danger,” she whispered. “Let’s use that.”
Aabi’s expression hardened. “Alright. But I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He moved closer, brushing her hand with his thumb. “You're not alone in this anymore.”
Their eyes met. The warmth between them was real. And fragile.
---
That night, Zulfishan lay in bed, the weight of everything pressing on her chest. She closed her eyes, hoping for rest—but what came instead… were memories.
Flashes of her father’s voice, calm and patient.
“Close your eyes, Zulfi. Imagine your thoughts like glass. Unbreakable. No one can reach them unless you allow it.”
She remembered sitting with him in a dim room, hooked to strange headphones while he whispered codes in her ears.
“I’m teaching your brain to protect itself. One day, someone might try to change how you think. But you’ll remember this, and fight it.”
Her eyes snapped open.
Her father had trained her—prepared her. Long before she understood why.
Maybe she wasn’t just a key. Maybe… she was the lock too.
---
The next day, everything changed.
Zulfishan’s plan went live. She left an encrypted message in her father’s old files—one Azfar would surely find. It said:
“I’m ready to unlock it. Meet me. Alone.”
But Azfar didn’t play fair.
---
Aabi called her later that evening, his voice filled with alarm. “Zulfi… Mawra’s gone. She didn’t come home. Her phone’s off.”
Zulfishan’s heart dropped. “Azfar.”
“He’s retaliating.”
Her hands shook. “He’s using her to push me.”
“Don’t give in,” Aabi said. “I’ve already called a friend in cyber intelligence. We’ll trace the location she last visited.”
But Zulfishan couldn’t sit still.
She left the house quietly, walking in the cool dark, her mind spinning. At a nearby alley, footsteps echoed behind her.
She turned.
Azfar.
“Well played,” he said, stepping out of the shadows. “Your father would’ve been proud.”
Zulfishan stared him down. “Where’s Mawra?”
“In a safe place. For now. But don’t worry. You’ll be joining her—if you don’t cooperate.”
“I won’t let you use me,” she said, voice shaking but firm.
“You already are,” he smiled coldly. “The moment you activated the file, the code inside you responded. You don’t even realize it.”
Zulfishan blinked.
Suddenly, her head buzzed—like static. Her knees weakened.
Azfar leaned closer. “Your body knows the program. Your father embedded it in you when you were a child. But the memories are fragile… one wrong move, and they break.”
She gasped for breath. “You’ll… never win.”
Before he could grab her, headlights flashed at the alley’s entrance.
Aabi jumped out of the car, sprinting toward them. “Let her go!”
Azfar vanished into the dark, a mocking laugh trailing behind.
---
Later that night, wrapped in a blanket and trembling, Zulfishan sat in Aabi’s apartment.
He knelt before her, gently touching her face. “I won’t let him touch you again.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “He’s in my head. My father… made me into something I don’t understand.”
Aabi pulled her close. “You’re not a weapon. You’re Zulfishan. You’re brave, and you’re still standing. That means everything.”
She rested her forehead against his. “You’re the only person who sees me that way.”
He held her tight, and for once, the silence wasn’t heavy. It was safe.
---
- Writer
