2025-05-26 07:09:02
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BURIED IN CHANNEL 9
The only light in the room came from blue-tinted code streams blinking across a large projection screen.Jayden Cole sat alone.Jayden's back was hunched, his fingers were twitching, his eyes were dry. He hadn’t slept in three days.Stacks of data cores surrounded him—old, battered, some were barely working. His neural HUD pulsed faint blue against the dark glass of the window. Rain slid down the outside like digital tears.The chaos in the outside world wasn’t just economic anymore. It was spreading. Quiet, fast, and full of purpose.Bowen franchise was on the brink of collapse once again. This time it was from the inside, and Jayden could feel it—like a pressure behind his eyes. Not just numbers, but lives. Systems were failing. Supply chains were twisting into knots. Code patterns were warping into something unnatural.His heart beat slowly, almost in rhythm with the cascading red alerts on his display.Jayden’s fingers hovered over a control panel. He ran another sweep across the
A LINE OF CODE AND A LIE
Carl Bowen didn’t speak immediately. He lowered his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then, with a deep breath, he sat up straighter and looked at each person around the table.“I understand your concerns,” he began slowly. His voice was calm, but there was a firm edge beneath it—an edge only years of leadership and service could sharpen. “Jayden Cole is not an ordinary man. He’s not someone you’ll find listed in public directories or tech magazines. He doesn’t just sit behind a desk in some shining corporate tower.”He paused.“He makes some of his operations in the shadows that is apart from cooperate work. Because he is aware of the fact that real threats come from the shadows too.”Carl let his words sink in. No one interrupted.“He doesn’t belong to any company. He doesn’t answer to any government. He’s not a CEO. He is—how do I put this—a ghost in the digital world. A silent force. But he’s also the reason why this family’s legacy wasn’t erased seven years ago.”This w
CRACK IN THE WALL
The next morning, Carl gathered his inner circle in the lower strategy chamber of the Bowen estate.The chamber, hidden beneath layers of biometric security, was lit by the soft blue glow of interface walls and pulsing data streams. The air buzzed faintly with encrypted signals and low-frequency Veil surveillance dampeners.Around the polished obsidian table sat the people Carl trusted most within his family—his core, his shield.Naphtali Bowen, Carl’s cousin and chief of logistical operations, was sharp-eyed and meticulous, he was known for keeping the family’s supply web intact through storms others couldn’t survive.Carla Bowen, his younger sister and tech strategist, was already immersed in real-time data, her fingers were gliding across a neural pad. She had built half their counter-surveillance tools herself and trusted no one’s code but her own.Milo Bowen, the quiet but brilliant data analyst who first uncovered the breach, sat with the same haunted intensity he’d carried sin
CALIBRATION WAR
Carl Bowen sat alone in his private study, the heavy silence wrapped around him like a thick, wet blanket. The lights were dim. He leaned back in his leather chair, staring at the data feeds scrolling across the three floating screens in front of him. The numbers didn’t make sense. Profits were vanishing. Supply lines—once smooth and predictable—had twisted into chaos. His franchise, Bowen Holdings which proved it's resilience for the past few weeks, was unraveling.“This isn’t market fluctuation,” he murmured, rubbing his temples. “This feels like sabotage.”Carl wasn’t the kind of man who gave in to panic. Despite all he had been through, this one was different. The chaos was precise—too precise to be natural.A soft knock came at the door.“Come in,” he said, still watching the data.His cousin and data analyst, Milo Bowen, entered, his eyes were wide and skin pale. He held a portable tablet close to his chest, as if it were carrying a secret that could explode any second.“Mr
THE PULSE BENEATH
Three Days LaterThe world didn’t fall with thunder.It fell in silence. Quiet tremors beneath the skin of power.And by the time the first cracks appeared, it was too late to stop the bleeding.On the first day, Bowen Corporation’s minor markets in the east and south side of Westwood began to stutter.It started with simple delays—a shipment of server-grade lithium failed customs in the east coast.Then, a batch of biofuel credits was suddenly frozen for “regulatory review” in the Jakarta county located at the Eastside of Westwood.There were no big headlines. No flashing warnings.But inside the Bowen analytics hub, red alerts quietly blinked.“We’re seeing abnormal dips in supplier responsiveness,” said one analyst.“We can’t adjust without triggering more price surges.”Carla Bowen’s team pushed for answers. The answers never came.And the Quantum Veil bracelet on Carla’s wrist? It glowed—yes—but it pulsed with uncertainty, not clarity.On the second day, commodity prices for low
PROJECT REVENANT
Farouq stood still, waiting.Tariq Khyber didn’t speak right away. He was pacing now—slow, deliberate steps across the glass floor. The light from the rising sun filtered through the tall windows, painting his sharp silhouette in amber and gold. Behind him, the city began to wake, unaware of the fire that had failed to burn its chosen target.“You asked what Project Revenant is,” Tariq finally said.Farouq straightened, his face was unreadable, but his eyes were hungry for answers.Tariq turned, and his gaze pierced through his brother like a blade.“While you were busy with surgical sabotage—hacking, framing, media flooding—I was preparing a foundation. A last line. One they’d never see coming.”Farouq leaned in slightly, listening. The room felt colder.“A backup?” he asked.Tariq nodded once. “Yes. Not just a failsafe. But a revenge mechanism. If the Bowens survived your web of narrative collapse, Revenant would destroy them from the roots.”He paused.“And now… it’s time.”Farou
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