That night she laid wide awake.
In the living room of their new rental house, Layla was perched on the floor. The walls were paper thin, the fan buzzed, and the low lights were dancing as if they were on the brink of extinguishing. But none of this mattered to her at the moment. In her possession was a USB, black in color, cold and rigid, resembling an otherworldly artifact, claiming to be from an alternate reality.
Time and time again she would repeat a sentence from her late father's letter.
"Start with this file. Don't let anyone know, and trust Kamal."
Trusting Kamal was out of the question, which means he wasn't just 'taking over' the company. But for what reason? And what is it that maked it so my father found everything so important whilst he was alive?
From a singular folder entitled EXORDIUM, the USB bore heavy files. Not in the sense of their physical weight.
"Had you found this, I failed," read the text document that was situated amid various PDFs and a video Layla found bizarrely entitled 'If you found this'.
Layla meticulously examined each document in sequential order.
Apparently, Dad's company – FarisTech – had something that strangers did not know of or have. It was more than just an invention. Rather, something that Dad kept hidden from the rest of the world. There was a project name: "RAVEN", and in Dad's notes, it was a project that "could change the corporate system forever."
Layla did not fully comprehend. But one thing was clear — it was Kamal who knew. And he got to it all before father was able to do anything.
The video's contents on the USB made her tremble.
The picture on the screen was dark, and the sound was crackling. But her father's voice was weak, and yet, very clear.
"If you are watching this, Layla, it means I did not get the time I needed. The RAVEN project is not finished yet, but Kamal… he is not what you think. He doesn't want money. What he wants is power. The power that could control information, the future and perhaps more."
Layla shut the laptop.
She exhaled sharply through her mouth.
Without a doubt it hurt her eyes, but they were still dry without tears. The feelings had turned to dust - arid and hard in her chest, she felt.
Her mother coughed delicately from somewhere in the kitchen. Water, boiling like the world outside, hot. Everything in the world continued moving still.
Not for her however, the only thing spinning were thoughts aligning in her head.
"I will not permit him to delete all remnants of Dad."
That LRT trip hurt less than the rest. It was boiling. Truly hard to bear considering the debris of sweat plastered on her back. The crossbody bag hanging sideways on her shoulder felt like it contained valuables rather than a USB. Opening it would mean her death, so she decided not to and ignore the men who were shoving her at the terminal.
As she reached, she was greeted by an antiquated structure - the only place Dad had ever referred to as a "fallback zone" in case all hell broke loose. Not an office. Not a house. Just simply an old document storage unit - Arka 27.
As a child who loved solving mystery puzzles, Layla remembered the code Dad once taught her during their childhood games, He claimed it was useful during crisis situaitons. Soos wouldn't you just love if I taught it to you? Especially if iOS low blows hit and trigger happy Lee Enfield 12-62's were pointing at you from all angles?
2-7-1-1-9
Click. Green light.
As the door creaked open, a pungent odor of aged dust, plastic, and most importantly… paper greeted her.
Insid were file shelves packed with overflowing metal boxes and bolted containers, along with a small regular sized safe. Solitary. No duplicates.
She snatched the ID – which turned out to be the only thing inside the safe. Her fathers name alongst a photograph thinner than thinnest modifyable skin plastered on a card equipped with a barb. And barricaded with a QR code and a note glaring in her eyes saying this.
"Only believe those who have this code. Everyone else is a conman."
Fingering slowly, she felt the serial warning.
Tick tock — footsteps were not a room normally strange bearing typeeo but swift determined full conduit unexpectedly.
Layla promptly shut off the lights.
She paused, driving out any remnants of sound.
Check the perimeter," a male voice said from behind. "He definitely has the file."
Layla froze.
And as she lay in darkness, a chilling realization washed over her: This has nothing to do with assets. It has nothing to do with shares. It has nothing to do with the multi-million dollar mansion that was seized.
This pertained to the real inheritance of her father.
And no longer was she simply a hope a wandering daughter.
Now, she was the concealed descendent who could alter everything.