Kai sat at the low table, wires and screens spread around him like a chaotic shrine.
Lian sat across from him, drinking instant coffee that had gone cold. Her eyes kept drifting between the monitor and the window.
“How much longer?” she asked quietly.
Kai didn’t look up. “The encryption is layered. Every time I break one level, there’s another waiting.”
“You can handle it.”
He smiled faintly without humor. “Yeah, I can handle it. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
The system beeped. Kai leaned forward. A stream of text scrolled across the screen. Then, suddenly, a folder appeared labeled Project H-Root.
Lian straightened. “That’s the same prefix as the archives from our parents’ lab.”
Kai clicked it open. Dozens of subfolders, each named after dates, locations, and initials. Most of them were corrupted. A few, though, showed readable text. He clicked one marked H-Root_Diagnostic_02.
The screen filled with dense code and schematic sketches. Genome strings. Then, a line of text:
"Subject tracking via bio-coded identifiers — designed for mass safety oversight."
Kai frowned. “It’s a hybrid system. Not just surveillance tech. It uses genetic markers to tag and track individuals.”
She leaned forward, studying the screen. “This wasn’t meant for LSK. This was meant for law enforcement.”
Kai nodded slowly. “Maybe. But LSK got their hands on it later. They’re probably using the same framework to track people now.”
Lian’s voice was quiet. “Our parents built this.”
Kai didn’t respond. He opened another file, a set of video thumbnails. Most were static, but one had a clear image. A lab room, grainy, timestamped more than a decade ago. He clicked play.
A man appeared on screen. Their father. He looked tired but calm, wearing a white lab coat.
Lian inhaled sharply. Kai froze. Neither of them moved.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Their father spoke, voice crackling through the old audio. “If you’re seeing this, something went wrong. The project was compromised. I’ve hidden the access keys. You’ll know where to find them.”
Then static. The feed cut off.
Kai sat back, silent. His throat felt tight. “He knew.”
Lian’s eyes stayed on the frozen screen. “He left this for us.”
The room went still again.
Lian rubbed her temples and stood. She paced once, then stopped near the door.
“What else is on there?” she asked.
“Mostly corrupted files. But if that video survived, there might be more fragments. I can rebuild them.”
“Do it.”
Kai worked for another hour.
When Kai finally spoke again, his voice was low. “There’s something else. A message embedded in the data header.”
Lian came over. “Show me.”
He pulled it up. The letters appeared slowly, each one loading like it was reluctant to be read.
“Han’s code remains alive. Preserve the root.”
Lian frowned. “Han. The same Doctor Han who disappeared.”
“Looks like he left more than rumors behind.” Kai glanced at her. “Maybe he finished something after the lab fire.”
“Or maybe someone used his work.”
They both fell silent. The air felt heavier. Lian finally broke it by moving toward the small kitchen. She poured water from the kettle, more for something to do than for the taste.
Kai spoke without looking up. “Do you ever think about what it was like for them? Working on this, thinking they were helping people?”
She stared at the steam rising from the cup. “They believed in it. They thought data could save lives. They didn’t know what kind of people would come after them.”
He turned toward her. “And we’re still cleaning up the mess.”
She met his eyes. “No. We’re finishing what they couldn’t.”
Kai let out a slow breath. “That sounds better when you say it.”
Outside, thunder rolled faintly across the city. The lights flickered. For a second, the screen dimmed, and Kai tapped the side of the laptop until it steadied again.
“Backup complete,” he said finally. “Two copies. One encrypted offline.”
Lian nodded. “Good. We’ll move again in the morning.”
“Already?”
“This place isn’t safe. Nothing ever is for long.”
Kai looked tired, but he didn’t argue. “Where to?”
“Not far. I have a contact in Yuen Long. Ex-lab tech. He might know about Han.”
Kai shut the laptop. “All right. I’ll pack in an hour.”
Lian nodded but didn’t move. She looked at the frozen image of their father on the screen. His mouth was half open, mid-sentence, caught forever in the static.
“Do you think he knew how it would end?” Kai asked softly.
She didn’t answer. After a long moment, she turned off the monitor. The room fell dark except for the city light filtering through the blinds.
Kai stretched and leaned back. “I’ll clean up the wiring.”
Lian sat down again, her hand resting lightly on the edge of the table. “Leave it. We’ll finish in the morning.”
He hesitated, then nodded.
