Science Fiction - Bloodline

​Chapter One: Invisible Shackles ​The year is 2325. Cities are no longer as they were—highways suspended in the sky, floating metropolises above the ocean, legislatures crafted by artificial intelligence, and every intricate decision of human life now rests in the hands of technology and corporate rulers. Yet, the world remains divided—North, South, East, West—not merely by geographical borders, but by economics, culture, technology, and even religious thought. ​The Western World still stands at the pinnacle of advancement. They control not only their own cities but also the politics, economy, and even media of other nations. The term "World Market" no longer refers to the United Nations or any international body—but to the Western Confederation, the secret alliance that controls everything from space colonies to every grain of sustenance on Earth. ​Bangladesh, especially Dhaka, has certainly developed. Flying passenger trains traverse the skies, underwater agricultural farms flourish, and virtual health centers are widespread. But compared to the Western World, Dhaka's progress seems merely a staged exhibition. The disparity here is not just economic—it’s a chasm of thought, dream, and future. ​In a narrow alley of this city, in an old two-story house, lives Roman Rasu. Age 28. His profession is marketing staff for a multinational company. All day he races through the busy streets, selling various products, standing before customers with a forced smile—a mere cog in the wheel of this system. ​But Roman is different. After office hours, past the city's din, he retreats to the ancient library left by his ancestors. That inner room—filled with dust-laden shelves of books, leather-bound manuscripts, old maps, and strange instruments—is a time capsule of the past. ​One night, inside a dusty book, Roman discovers a metallic chip. Engraved upon it are only two words—"Unity Protocol." Roman initially dismisses the matter. But after scanning the chip, his virtual device displays a cryptic message: ​"If you seek the truth, then be prepared. To change the world, you must also change." ​At that very moment, a message arrives on Roman’s device from an unknown user— "We have been waiting for you for a long time." ​Chapter Two: The Shadow Den ​It was nearly 1 AM. Artificial moonlight bathed the Dhaka sky—a government Light Projection System that illuminated the city even at night. But inside Roman's small, old room, the only light emanated from his small holographic projector. The message that appeared after scanning the chip seemed to have suddenly ceased. ​More words flickered across the device screen— "You are not alone. We must meet." A location code was attached: DHK-SLUM-09-BLACKGATE. ​Roman was startled. He had heard this code before—it was the name of an area in the old city, now designated a government 'No-Go Zone'. Government drones, corporate security robots, and even the police were forbidden entry. Rumours claimed this area housed people who survived outside the system—the "Shadows". ​Roman decided to go there the very next night. Traversing old metal roads, walking through black alleyways, he reached a dilapidated warehouse. On the door was a strange red symbol—two triangles superimposed upon each other, with a single dot in the centre. ​Suddenly, a chilling voice from behind— “We didn’t think you would arrive so quickly.” ​Roman turned around. Three figures emerged from the darkness. The first, a middle-aged woman, wore old-style metallic goggles, holding a type of portable data-scanner. The second, an elderly man with a long beard, had something like an old metal gauntlet on his right arm—as if returned from a battlefield. And the third, Roman’s age, had a gaze so sharp it seemed to see through people. ​The woman spoke, —“Do you have the chip?” Roman nodded and held out the chip. The woman scanned it, remained silent for a moment, then smiled faintly and said, —“The time has come, then.” ​The old man slowly stepped forward and said, —“Do you know who truly holds the world? They are not just the government, not just corporations… they are a lineage, people whose veins carry the same blood. For hundreds of years, they have held power through this single bloodline. And this chip—the Unity Protocol—is the only key to breaking that chain.” ​Roman asked in astonishment, —“But me? I’m just an ordinary employee. Why me?” ​The third person answered in a cold voice, —“Because your veins also carry the blood they fear.” ​A sudden, cold current of realization surged through Roman’s mind. His life until now had been ordinary, but for the first time, he understood—he might have been part of an invisible war since birth. ​The woman slowly said, —“We will teach you everything. From hacking the system to the true history of the old world. But remember, the day you step onto this path, there will be no turning back.” ​The warehouse door slowly opened, revealing countless old computers, projection maps, and hundreds of chips arranged on tables. The old man said, —“Welcome… to the Shadow Den. From here begins the journey to change the world.” ​Chapter Three: The First Immersion . ​On his first night in the Shadow Den, Roman realized that time moved differently here. There was no sunrise, no night, only unbroken light and the hum of computers. ​Training began the next morning. The woman—whose name was Nazreen—taught Roman how to infiltrate the system. —“The first rule,” Nazreen said, “The Western Confederation’s network doesn't run just on data; they track human behaviour, decisions, and even dreams. If you enter the data, they will feel you.” ​Roman was astonished. —“Feel me?” —“Yes,” Nazreen smiled wryly, “Their AI has reached a level where they’ll know what you’re about to type before your hands touch the keyboard.” ​The old man, Karim Uncle, taught him old combat tactics— —“Victory isn't won by technology alone. You must be able to fight physically. Because the day they find you, you’ll be fighting the machines alone.” ​But the most mysterious was the third person—Aryan. He told Roman, —“Do you know what the ‘Unity Protocol’ actually is?” Roman shook his head. —“It is not software, not a weapon. It is a fragment of ancient human DNA that proves all people on Earth share one single ancestry.” ​Roman was stunned into silence. Aryan continued, —“They have hidden this information for hundreds of years. Because if everyone knew we share the same blood, no one would wage war against each other. And if there is no war, there is no need for power.” ​The training lasted a full two weeks. Roman learned how to shield his thoughts, how to blind drone cameras, and how to 'walk silently' through code. ​Finally came the first mission. Roman had to enter the Western Confederation’s Dhaka-regional Data Centre and steal an encrypted file—called the “Origin Key”. Without it, the ‘Unity Protocol’ could not be activated. ​On the night of the mission, virtual lightning flashed across the sky—it was, in fact, the government surveillance system, scanning data across the atmosphere. Roman, dressed in black, emerged from the Shadow Den. Aryan clipped an earpiece onto him. —“Remember, if you feel fear, they will sense it,” Aryan warned. ​Reaching the Data Centre, Roman understood the true danger for the first time. Bright blue-lit security robots patrolled nearby, their eye-scanners seemingly able to read a person’s very soul. ​Nazreen whispered into the earpiece, —“There’s a three-second gap on the right side. Enter then.” ​Roman took a deep breath and, in the vacant moment, dashed toward the transparent, glass-like wall. As his hand touched the wall, the hidden device on his wrist hummed softly—and the wall seemed to melt away like liquid, letting him inside. ​Silence inside. Corridors filled with white light, rows of countless data cores on the walls—like an invisible library. Suddenly, Aryan’s voice— —“Third row on the left. The file is there.” ​Roman started forward. But metal footsteps sounded from behind— A robot turned toward him, shooting a red laser beam directly at Roman’s face from its eye. ​Chapter Four: The Trap of the Red Eye ​The moment the red light flared in the robot's eye, time seemed to slow for Roman. Aryan whispered into the earpiece, —“Stay still. You move, you’re caught.” ​But the laser scan was already hurtling toward his face. Roman quickly pressed the button on his wrist device—a transparent shield of light formed around him in a second. The red beam hit the shield and scattered, leaving scorch marks like sparks of fire on the corridor walls. ​—“You’ve alerted them,” Nazreen’s voice was sharp. Another robot began advancing from within the corridor. Roman started running. ​Reaching the third row, he spotted a shiny black cylinder among the data cores—labeled ORIGIN KEY. As he reached out, a surge of blue electricity shot from the core, but the wrist device's shield absorbed it. He tucked the cylinder into his waist pouch. ​Just then, a metallic shriek from behind— Two robots were rushing toward him simultaneously, electric shock-rods in hand. ​Aryan yelled, —“Jump into the service duct on the left!” ​Roman didn't hesitate. Ripping open the service duct cover, he leaped inside. He slid down the dark tunnel, metallic footsteps and sirens blaring above his head. Nazreen’s voice came through, —“Turn right, then exit through the second output port.” ​Light appeared at the end of the tunnel. But the light was not gentle—it was the scanner of a blue patrol drone. Roman held his breath and slowly slipped out, then instantly leaped behind a nearby dumpster. The drone flew overhead, sensing nothing. ​He returned to the Shadow Den before dawn. As he placed the ‘Origin Key’ on the table, Karim Uncle said gravely, —“This is the key that can change history… and get you killed.” ​Nazreen smiled faintly, —“The fact that you survived is still a miracle.” ​But Roman said nothing. He knew tonight was only the beginning. The next missions would be more difficult, more lethal. And if they were ever caught—the Western Confederation would erase not just him, but every trace of his existence from Earth. ​Chapter Five: The Blood Blueprint ​A stillness descended upon the Shadow Den. The black cylinder—the Origin Key—sat on the table, seemingly trembling not with metal, but with the vibration of invisible power. ​Karim Uncle slowly placed his hand on the cylinder, a shadow of memory in the corner of his eye. —“Do you know I spent thirty-five years searching for this?” he whispered. Nazreen silently typed code into the computer console. ​Roman took a step back. He felt a strange, cold sensation—as if his life was about to change completely in this moment. ​The moment Nazreen connected the key to the data reader, the entire room suddenly filled with golden light. The holographic projection showed a massive spiral pattern—like a 3D model of DNA. But this was no ordinary genetic sequence. ​Aryan said slowly, —“You see? Hidden within this blueprint is the 7,000-year-old human genome. It shows that all people on Earth bear the mark of a single ancient ancestor.” ​Roman was speechless. —“Meaning… everyone is related?” —“Yes,” Nazreen confirmed, “Your enemy, your friend, your neighbour—they are all branches of the same family.” ​Karim Uncle became grim, —“The Western Confederation has kept this information a secret. Because if people knew they are all of the same blood, then religion, race, borders—everything would become a lie. Then the wars would stop, and their empire of power would collapse.” ​Roman’s heart pounded faster. The words he’d heard from an old teacher in his childhood echoed in his mind— "The ultimate truth is that we are all related. It's only a question of how far back we are willing to look." ​But the moment of triumph did not last. Suddenly, a red alarm flashed on an old security monitor in the corner of the room. ​Nazreen cried out in panic, —“Our location has been exposed!” ​Aryan gritted his teeth and said, —“They are coming… and this time it won’t be easy to stop them.” ​Karim Uncle placed the cylinder into Roman's hand. —“You are its protector now. No matter the hardship, you must keep it safe. If it is lost, everything is over.” ​Heavy metallic footsteps were already audible outside—the Western Confederation’s elite security unit, known as the Iron Shadows. If caught, not only would Roman die, but his very existence would be wiped from history. ​ (To be Continues)