Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ali is loading up.

On cat food, lots of them. His stash is coming dangerously low. Even Comot has given him side eyes all morning.

Ali did not want another episode of unexplained theft in his neighbourhood. Once is enough, and he did not fancy himself breaking in to return the loot.

And so after much urging from his cat, Ali entered Zali Mart and stocked up on kibbles and pouches, canned food too. Tossed in cat grooming supplies in the basket; better to have more on hand.

After some deliberation, an online game pack and a can of hairspray join the list.

Ali was sure his dad would be home late - he almost always was. That meant the evening and night were probably his, as long as his homework was done. Mostly.

Not that it mattered much. Ali didn’t count on having free time. He was already swamped with enough work as it was.

On the way home, Ali helped a lost tourist. He didn’t blame her, being lost is common for first-timers. What with the city’s confusing landmarks and the streets being too clean and uniform, it ended up looking like a maze designed by minimalists.

She offered to buy him a drink - just a small gesture, maybe to thank him for the directions, or maybe just to be polite.

Ali hesitated for a moment, then shook his head with a polite smile.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he said, lifting his grocery bags to show he doesn't have much time.

Ali gave the sunglasses tourist directions, then continued on his way, bags of cat food rustling in tow.

Everyone was busy, and he missed his uncle more than he wanted to admit.

In an undisclosed MATA facility. Alicia grits her teeth. Took a step forward, and struck.

The life of an agent isn’t as cushy as most would assume. Due to the nature of the work, missions are often gruelling, mentally and physically taxing.

For that, agents are required to be physically battle-ready at all times, in the off chance they are called on duty without prior warning. This requires agents to train their skills constantly.

Alicia is not an exception.

She herself is currently working through a punching bag. As a field agent who mainly relies on agility and ranged attack, a punching bag is not something that she trains with often.

Mostly Alicia sticks to parkour, cliff climbing if she’s feeling adventurous. But not now, this is not the time for target practice with her ballistique. Nor the time for an obstacle course, or even to practice her martial arts. This is simply her time to let out all her rage and frustration.

One fist slammed into its side, knocking the bag clean off its stand. The bag hit the ground with a dull thump, joining the rest already on the floor.

She let out a harsh sigh.

There are too many emotions tangled within her that Alicia ended up relying on the one she is most familiar with, anger. She moved to another bag on the rack.

A plastic crack broke through her fury. She turned, panting, to see Bakar leaning against the doorway, casually sipping from mineral water, a towel slung on his shoulder. He is likely already done with his training.

Bakar held out another bottle to her.

"Kick harder, would you?" Bakar jokes. "Once the floor breaks down, we can ask for a bigger training room." Probably tries to ease up the mood, but it’s just flat.

Alicia exhausted. She looked around for a bench - not interested with the effort of walking to one which is not even that far - and ended up sitting on a fallen bag. Bakar on the other hand just sat on the floor, he didn’t even glance at the bags. They probably wouldn’t hold up to his weight.

She looked at the other agent, thoughtful. He is her senior, had been here longer than she’d been alive. He had worked with Jenny too, didn’t he?

“Don’t you feel angry? Or anything at all?” Alicia asked. She herself is drowning in it. Grief, betrayal, sadness, she has pain, frustration and even anxiety. “After everything she did to us?”

“I’m angry too.” Bakar said, aware that Alicia is about to snap, he continue. “But if everyone angry, who’s left to stay calm?”

Hearing that, Alicia deflated.

“She ran off with IRIS,” Alicia’s voice is so low it was almost tucked inside herself, barely audible to Bakar. “Jenny… She betrayed us.” Her fury is still there, just pulled back.

“I trusted her. We trusted her.” Alicia’s voice cracked, her heart wouldn't stop screaming. “Why would she do that?”

Her heart hurt.

General Rama called them in for a debrief.

There are four of them debriefing in the room this time. Alicia caught herself glancing at her chair. And she is not the only one, Rizwan did it too; eyes linger a little too long at the corner before looking away as if nothing happened.

The lights dimmed slightly as the projection screen flickered to life. One by one, footage snippets from the last 48 hours rolled in -mostly street surveillance, but there also CCTV and Dash Cam. All of it funnelled through MATA’s facial recognition system to search for the traitor.

General Rama presses a button on the remote. A surveillance video from a local mart came forward.

It is not a long one, less than 5 minutes video. It is a footage of Jenny – the traitor, talking with a schoolboy.

It took a minute for Alicia to realize that she knew who Jenny talked to. Another minute for her to realise that Bakar too knew the boy.

By his tightened jaw, he likely realized it earlier than her.

The video paused, freezing the image.

Alicia leaned forward, her brow furrowing in disbelief.

It is Ali.

No one in the room reacted at first. General Rama and Agent Rizwan didn’t even know who he was. Just some kid who’d somehow crossed paths with a rogue agent and got flagged by MATA’s facial database.

Alicia stared harder, confirming the identity herself. Same haircut, the same schoolbag that he wears to school, same body movement.

This meeting must be recent. Ali wasn’t suddenly athletic. He has no suspicious injuries. No weird behaviour or even sudden mood swings. No jump in grades or class absences.

His schedule was laughably predictable. Go to school. Go home. Play games with his friend Viktor.

If anything had happened, Alicia would be the first one who would notice. After all, she was trained to detect discrepancies, and she practiced it the most at school. It would tick her off.

A few more clicks, and the image changed. This time, a full profile with an ID photo blown up on screen.

ALI BIN GHAZALI.

AGE: 12.

STATUS: CIVILIAN.

ADDRESS: -----

General Rama stood quiet, then remembered that he had to do the explanation this time. He coughed in embarrassment before talking.

“Ali bin Ghazali. Son of Dr. Ghazali. 12 years old. Anything else?” General started.

“My nephew.” Bakar offered, arms folded.

“We attend the same school.” Alicia grumble. Same school, ha! More like same class. His table placement is right behind her. Clutz through and through, he spilled soda on his own tablet during midterms.

“Well.” Bakar scratches his head, skewing his hat. “That time with IRIS?” Bakar explains.

Rama nodded. “You mentioned it in the report. He found it?”

“Kiddo got hold of the package by accident. But he gave it back when I asked for it.” Pretty much a case of meet-leave-forget then, until the footage.

Has Jenny targeted Ali because of that day?

“Is this an act of revenge?” Rizwan asked, eyes narrowing as he considered the possibilities. Fingers rested against his chin, brows drawn as he stared at the frozen image. “Why target someone unknown… and not one of us?”

“And more importantly,” Rizwan added, “what if she did something to him?”

“Alright, standard procedure.” General Rama pulls the shot.

He clicked the remote again, turning off the screen. Then light come flooding.

“Call witness in. Soft interrogation.”

Chapter Text

Ali called in for a witness statement.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected any of this when he left the house for school. Or when he woke up this morning, period.

It had started simple enough. Two strangers from law enforcement had approached Ali outside when school ended. They told him he wasn’t in trouble, simply needed to ask a few questions about something important. That his name had come up as a potential witness for an ongoing case.

Ali, confused and more than a little nervous, agreed. He was escorted to a nondescript building and straight to a secure room. He didn’t even know a place like this existed in the city.

And now, here he was. Waiting for his testimony to be collected.

Ali sat stiffly in his chair, hands clasped in his lap, legs swinging slightly because they didn’t quite reach the floor. Comot would’ve jumped into his arms by now if his cat were here. He missed her lunchtime.

The door then opened.

A man stepped into the room. He is not in uniform, maybe a detective. Or even a personal investigator, if that was still a thing.

He pulled a chair and sat down across from Ali and ask Ali to refer him as Mr.Rama. Voice calm and straight to the point.

Mr.Rama shows Ali a picture of a redheaded woman. Told him that her name is Jenny, and she is currently being pursued by law enforcement. He asked if Ali knew Jenny, knew who she was. If Ali in any way communicates with her after leaving Zali Mart, where he was recorded talking with her.

“I…I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Ali stammers, a bit of a hiccup came out. “Why is this happening?”

“Relax, kid. This isn’t an arrest. We just want to talk.” The could-be-detective-could-be-private-investigator speaks gently. “Is that alright?”

Ali looks at the picture on the table – at the woman they all looked for – confusion and wariness are all over his face.

“You know Jenny, the lady with red hair.” The man – Mr.Rama said. “We have footage. You spoke with her at Zali Mart. What happened?”

“I- She asked for directions,” Ali said. “That’s it. I thought she was just lost.”

“Hm…” Mr.Rama tilted his head. “You sure that’s all?”

Ali nodded, swallowing down his nervousness.

After a while, he stood. “Alright. Thanks, Ali.”

The detective-private-investigator escorted Ali out of the room. Where Uncle Bakar was waiting outside, sitting at the visitor’s chair.

Ali blinked back his tears. “Uncle…” If Ali’s voice gets a little high-pitched, no one would say anything.

Bakar gave him a half-smile as Ali sat beside him. “You okay?”

Ali responded by giving him a weak smile. Tired and drained of energy. Uncle probably understand with how he grimaced.

Ali waited at his seat while Uncle Bakar sorted things out at the help desk. Filing forms and other things. That’s probably why they called him here, guardians and family members needed for this type of things when involving minors.

Both uncle and nephew stepped outside, only realizing that time had flown by when they were inside the building. Ali had unknowingly spent hours there.

The sun is setting down – the sky’s a mix of purples, soon to be darker hue – city lights flickering on one by one. Bakar took Ali to his car – a rented one he claimed, Ali didn’t believe him – and they ate Burger King at the chain’s parking lot.

Ali didn’t talk much about what happened that day, and Bakar didn’t push either. He likely sees how draining this thing could be on Ali and drives him home quickly.

Ali arrives home in record time. Dad’s car is not here; he is not home yet.

Good.

Dad would most likely return late from work today, as he often did. And with any luck, wouldn’t ask Ali about the witness statement until tomorrow evening.

“You want to come in for a bit?” Ali had wanted to invite Uncle inside since it had been a while since they last met. But it looks like uncle could not stay.

“Er… Maybe next time,” Uncle Bakar declined a little bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a job lining up.”

“Alright,” Ali said goodbye to Uncle in front of his house before quickly get inside. “Drive safe.”

Behind the curtain, Ali watched Uncle’s rented car round the corner, the back lights glowing briefly before they disappeared into the dark.

Uncle is sure busy with his job nowadays.

Uno paced slowly in the dim glow of the hideout, the soft hum of electronics echoing in the background. The giant holographic map of the city pulsed in cool blue light against the dark walls. The light glint off Uno's dark helmet.

Cinco stood not far behind him. Her stylus tapped rhythmically against her tablet.

“Cinco,” Uno glanced at the image of the city, then back at Cinco. His visor tilted toward her. “You met the boy?”

“I did,” Cinco cheerily agreed. “I’m with him alone that day.”

“Agents are panicking.” She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear with a satisfied smile, happily reminiscing. “Especially Bakar.”

Uno stepped forward, steepling his fingers. “Then let them panic. It will work in our favor.”

Uno have a plan. And he will see through it no matter what.

Cinco’s smile deepened, a flash of triumph on her face. “Oh, it already is.”

Cinco hummed happily as she looks at a picture of Ali in his school. Unknowingly taken.

She fondly caresses the picture.

After escorting his nephew home, Bakar didn’t drive to his house; instead headed deep into the city centre. Where MATA Headquarters located.

After all, he still needs to return the MATA-issued vehicle that he used that day.

And after that, he needs more fuel to get through the day. Doesn’t matter that it is already night, or that he had already eaten earlier. And he’s stressed enough as it is.

More food is always better. So he spent a while up in the mamak, filling himself up with carbs.

Then Bakar went down to MATA hq, to one of the operation rooms where General Rama was still dissecting the witness footage.

“Got anything new?” Bakar stepped into the room, arm full with food.

“Nothing,” Rama grunted. Eyes still fixed on the image on the screen.

General Rama turned his attention to Bakar. “How was he?”

“Kid got a brave face.” Bakar was caught off guard, halfway eating a nugget when General Rama’s question landed. His expression softened slightly at the mention of his nephew. “But you can tell it’s taking a toll on him.”

“I’ll be putting guards on the kid,” General Rama eyes still locked on the screen. “We can’t have things like this happen to a civilian.”

“Rizwan will be needed at Central Hq for a while. We can’t send him in,” he continued, mind ticking through options. “I need to pick someone closer.”

“And finally, before we close tonight’s news…”

A tragic fire in a residential neighborhood has claimed the lives of a woman and her two children. Preliminary investigations point to a faulty electrical outlet as the likely cause of the blaze.

The victims were identified by neighbors, while officials confirmed the woman's husband, Professor Akram, had been reported missing several years ago under unclear circumstances. The incident is currently being treated as a domestic tragedy, though authorities have not ruled out further investigation.

“That’s all from us tonight. Thank you for watching.”

Chapter Text

Weeks passed.

Ali would like to say his life did not change at all after that day, but that is a lie.

Things are different, because of her.

Alicia Kheng.

Alicia is much more involved in Ali’s life now. For some reason, the teachers had collectively decided they made a ‘great team’. He wasn’t sure who started the rumors, but the way things were going, it felt like a conspiracy.

Ali and Alicia are now paired in everything, assignments, group presentations, class debates, and even sports teams. If there is anything that requires more than one student, Ali and Alicia will be paired together. Cikgu Bidin even put Alicia and Ali in the same group study as preparation for the national exam.

For balance, he claimed. To push each other to be better.

Since when did he care about UPSR?

Cikgu Bidin is an art teacher. The kind of teacher who lets students draw whatever they want, so long as they aren’t disrupting the class.

Who gave good marks to students as long as they hand in something to him that may or may not fulfill the homework instructions.

For ‘creativity’, he said. In a substitute class!

He spent most of his time wandering between the store room and the teacher’s lounge, occasionally showing up in classrooms to borrow markers or glue sticks.

He didn’t even teach Grade 6.

Ali and Viktor were both a bit weirded out about the arrangement. They already have their thing. Both he and Viktor do their work at their own pace. He will then check with Viktor before submitting his homework.

And in paired school work, Ali will take the opportunity to team up with Viktor as they always do, and they will add Mia if it’s a three-member group. Sometimes others, depending on the subject. Perhaps even Sarsi.

Not Alicia. Never Alicia.

But now, as teachers quote, ‘Need to shape up the kids for the upcoming UPSR’. They stuck.

It was like the universe had glitched. All of a sudden, freedom to choose your own group was no longer a thing. It had been replaced by structured academic pairing, which Ali was pretty sure was just a fancy term for suffering.

Alicia is efficient, she is terrifying, and she takes absolutely no nonsense. Ali… was not. Putting them to work together was like trying to mix oil and fire; an explosive disaster.

Viktor – the poor soul - caught in the middle, the unfortunate one who ended up pacifying the two of them whenever they clash.

Any school activity involving groups is now collectively feared by the class. Especially Ali, who now suspiciously watches his own shadow as if Alicia will jump out of it to scare him.

To hide from Alicia, Ali even uses Viktor as a human buffer.

Ali will duck behind him in hallways, pulling Viktor into random conversations. And on one memorable occasion, hid behind a potted plant that they now collectively called Viktor.

Sometimes it works. Most times, not.

“ALI!”

Speak of the devil.

Ali scrunches down his shoulder.

“Oh no, not again.” Viktor sighed, now too used to Alicia’s burst of anger.

“The members for each group have already decided by teachers,” teacher's droning voices goes on and on, completely bypassing students groan of disappointment. “Non-negotiable.”

Annoyance rippled across the classroom followed by muttered complaints and exaggerated sighs. Someone had dropped a pencil on the floor with a clatter.

Everyone is clearly not happy with groups already decided for them.

Alicia didn’t join her classmates verbalizing her discontent, instead choose to internalize her anger. She is angry that all her time is now devoted to for all intent and purposes, babysit a snotty kid.

In school, she needs watch him. Be next to him at all time in case an attack happened.

‘Please… what worth do a school brat have.’

Then teachers will assign them in groups together, no doubt MATA have a hand in this. Alicia will have to spend hours doing school work that she can finish in minutes alone because of him.

After school, General Rama will ask about Ali, asking her if there any new threat. Bakar too ask about Ali well being, if he eat well at school.

“Kid need to eat more to grow up properly.” Bakar had said to her just yesterday, like she was somehow responsible for the boy’s nutritional habits.

After that, Alicia needs to brush up on her skills in case an attack does happen.

There is even a life-sized cut-out version of Ali in MATA. For what?

DRILLS!

DRILLS!!!

She is forced to run around obstacles with a cardboard Ali under her arm like a weirdo. ‘Protecting’ the thing like a real one.

“Again!” her dad barked. “You dropped him on the last corner!”

“It’s a cardboard! ” Alicia complained.

He made Alicia do the drills again just for that.

Then she needs to write her report. About who?

Ali.

Later at home, she needs to do her paired homework, the one that the teachers made them do together. The type of homework that can be done individually, and in fact has been so in the past.

But nooo…

Single work project is now forbidden. Everything must be in groups now.

He doesn’t even contribute much to homework, following her lead in everything. If she chooses blue, he goes blue. If she chooses orange, then he uses orange.

Ali is a yes man through and through.

He is spineless.

Hopefully he did his part in assignments and doesn’t end up distracted. Again.

Alicia couldn’t accept it if her grade tanked because of him.

Then tomorrow, it all started all over again. No matter where Alicia turned, the name Ali hung over her like a shadow.

That name is practically written inside her skull by now, with how many times she encountered it.

One thing for sure.

Alicia did not ask for this mission.

She did not ask to babysit a civilian.

She did not ask to spend her whole morning tailing him like a glorified shadow.

She did not ask to be paired with him in every school project like this were some forced team-building exercises from MATA's upper brass.

And most importantly, she did not ask to have her people in her life talking about other people through her like she is a phone.

Every day, her dad or Agent Bakar would pull her aside to ask about Ali.

“Has Ali been acting strange?”

“Is Ali eating properly? ”

“Has Ali said anything about the meeting?”

“Why is Ali distracted?”

“Any new contacts for Ali?”

“Did Ali look… sad?”

Did Ali look sad?

Was she supposed to file a report on that?!

Ali. Ali. Ali.

“Ali and Alicia,” Teachers briefly look at them as he calls them out, cementing her fate. “One group.”

Alicia gritted her teeth in anger, her pencil snaps.

Ali.

Chapter Text

“What have I done to deserve this…” Ali laments to himself. Slumped on his desk on this early morning. Class hasn’t even started yet and Ali is tired.

“You probably did something bad in your last life of something.” Viktor absent-mindedly replied, his eye focused on his gaming console.

“Ugh…” Ali groaned at Viktor’s answer.

“And here she came,” Viktor said, in a nearly singing tone. “Your karma’s here, bro.” Spying Alicia walking on the way to them, a thunderous scowl on her face.

Ali's part in their assignment is probably not doing as well as he had hoped. This will not be a good day for him.

Ali slumped lower.

Viktor sighed.

And he’s right. Alicia chewed on him so hard that his ears rang. Lecturing Ali on not taking his homework seriously and all that. It’s a miracle that he can still use his ears.

The problem is, it’s not that Ali didn’t do it. He does works on them. Multiple times, even. Homework is hard.

But Alicia didn’t care about that. All she wanted was the result. And she would not let him have a gap to breathe.

It took a few more days of constant nagging from Alicia until Ali finally snapped.

The ugly kind.

“NO!!!”

Everyone shocked silent. Even more shocking when it was Ali who shouted it. The echo rings throughout the classroom, loud enough that it startled birds perching outside, and perhaps even the whole school.

Although after how many times Alicia berates Ali for being ‘Ali’, it is not a surprise that he ‘explodes’.

Truthfully, it is a long time coming.

Because with the way things are going. It’s genuinely astounding how the two of them lasted this long.

Ali took one deep breath before he started talking to Alicia, who was stunned. “Enough already, Alicia.” He plead. “Stop forcing me to be on your standard.”

He hissed. "I am not a machine."

Ali is not yet done.

“I see that you are angry, and I do not know why. But that does not mean it is your right to demean others.”

A few students shifted in their seats, unsure whether they should be watching or looking away. Viktor looked especially stressed, eyes darting between the two of them like he was mentally preparing a fire extinguisher.

Alicia is getting angry at Ali too. She too started to scream. “And so what!!! Why can't you be a machine! You’re so slow, it’s exhausting! I’m tired of waiting on you to catch up!”

She ranted, hands gesturing wildly now. “Do you know how many things I could’ve finished by now if I weren’t saddled with babysitting you every step of the way?!”

Ali’s jaw clenched. “ WHO SAID I EVEN WANT TO WORK WITH YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE?! ”

“ THE TEACHERS DID!!! ” she fired back. “ YOU KNOW THAT! ”

Ali turned his head to the only adult there, Cikgu Bidin.

The teacher in question stood at the classroom doorway, clearly having just arrived, and very clearly shocked. His expression was frozen somewhere between disbelief and confusion, eyes flicking between the two of them as if trying to confirm he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Because Alicia, the golden student, school prefect, the responsible one of the whole damn school, was shouting in the middle of class.

And Ali, the usually quiet, obedient and meek student, was shouting back.

Ali twisted toward him immediately, still caught in the heat of the moment. “ TEACHER! I DID NOT WANT TO WORK WITH HER! ” he said sharply, pointing at Alicia.

“ ME NEITHER! ” Alicia snapped, her fists clenched at her sides, face flushed with rage. “ THIS WHOLE THING IS POINTLESS!!! ”

The classroom dead silent.

Cikgu Bidin sighs, he is tired. “Ali, Alicia. To the discipline room. Now.”

Alicia at MATA safehouse, scolded by the General. “When I found out you two were classmates, I thought it would be easy.” General Rama scolded, exasperated. “That maybe it would make things smoother. More natural.”

“But instead, this happened.” He flung his hand to the frozen image of Ali’s and Alicia's screaming match.

Alicia didn’t say anything to this. This is after all, her fault.

“I should’ve eased up on your bodyguard duty from the beginning,” he said at last, not looking at her immediately. “If I’d known it would turn out like this...”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“This isn’t about punishment,” General Rama continued, much gentler now. “It’s about being responsible. And knowing when something isn’t working. You are too close to this. You’ve let your emotions cloud your own judgment.”

General decided. “I pull you off from protection detail. Agent Karya will take over.”

Alicia’s head snapped up. “Papa!” she started, voice cracking with disbelief. “You can’t just-”

“Icha…” General Rama finally looked at her. His decision is final. “No.”

“You're done for today,” He told Alicia. “Go home.”

The thing is, Alicia wasn’t the only one affected.

Ali returned home alone, shoulders slumped with his school bag heavier than it ever was. Viktor will be busy with his family today, which means no gaming binge this evening.

The shouting match earlier echoed in Ali’s mind, each word replaying louder than it had been in the classroom. He genuinely regretted it. It had never been his intention to yell at her.

He split off from the main road, to a quieter path. He’d make a stop or two before heading home.

Ali gave nods and smiles to shop owners, most returned with a smile of their own, some waved their hands to him. Ali has been coming here often enough to not be a stranger. Somewhere along the way, Comot came padding along.

He paused in front of a narrow alleyway. Familiar meows reached Ali’s ears long before he arrived. Cats swarmed around him eagerly, purring, rubbing against his shoes and pant legs.

Ali smiled, crouching down. With one hand, he pulled a packet of kibbles from his bag, while the other expertly shooed away the most overeager cats from knocking the bag out of his grip, an action well practiced.

“Easy, easy,” Ali murmured. “There’s enough for all of you.”

“I can’t stay here long,” Ali mutters as he tears open the packet and pours it into the old mismatched bowls, watching indulgently as cats dive in to eat the kibbles. “Half an hour at most.”

Then he spotted a familiar furball among the strays.

Ali sighed. “Comot, no.” He barely had the energy to scold her. “Don’t steal their food- I’ll feed you later!”

“Mrow.” Comot replied unapologetically, continuing to munch alongside the others as if Ali won’t feed him snacks once they return.

Half an hour later, Ali left the alley. Comot followed close behind, belly full and content.

Back at home, Ali slipped off his shoes, dropped his bag near the door, and shuffled into the kitchen. Ali poured a bowl of wet food for Comot and a bowl of cereal for himself, stirring it slowly with his spoon.

At the back of his eyes, nanites flowing freely. A remnant of what was once SATRIA. What brought him here, in the past.

There was so much going on now. And even more are waiting for him in the future.

Ali got up, rinsed out his bowl at the sink, and walked toward his room.

“My work is not yet finished.”

Chapter Text

The next day, Ali and Alicia came to school as usual, which usually meant punctually early for Alicia and barely before the bell rings for Ali.

As if by some unspoken agreement, they both pretend the other doesn’t exist.

Which… Works fine for them.

Students stay clear of Ali and Alicia. Keeping a nice space six feet away whenever the two of them stand a little bit too close for their comfort.

No one wanted to get caught in the crossfire.

Teachers too got the hint, no longer assigning Ali and Alicia into the same groups. It makes classes less tense.

“That’s harsh.” Victor commented. His avatar spamming an AOE attack on the screen.

Ali, slouched next to him just grunted. They are both aware it is not the game they talked about.

Viktor finally got time to do projects with Ali now that teachers loosen up on groupings. To celebrate their freedom, they play video games.

“She’s too much.” Ali grumbled.

They continue playing.

There was a beat of silence as the victory screen flashed. Then, Viktor exhaled and tossed his controller onto the couch.

“Alright. Break time’s over,” he said, reaching for his workbook. “C’mon. Let’s do our work.”

“No…” Ali made an exaggerated shiver at that. He slouched deeper into his seat.

“I’m serious,” Viktor said, flipping to their assignment page. “If we didn’t do this, teachers might decide on groups again.”

“Don’t say that,” Ali groaned. “I don’t want to do group assignments with Alicia.”

“Bro, I got grouped with Shed and he copied straight from the internet.” Viktor deadpanned. “Cikgu Munah called my mom.”

Putting the game on pause, they return back onto their homework, already halfway done before they play the game.

While Viktor double-checked an essay, Ali casually nudged his phone aside with an elbow. His skin briefly brushed the screen, just a fleeting swipe. That was more than enough to do his work.

Invisible to the naked eye, the nanites laced through Ali’s skin surged subtly into motion. They pulsed along his skin and slipped seamlessly into the data streams.

Ali didn’t blink.

Viktor, still lost in the essay draft, slid over their shared workbook without missing a beat. “Check that part. I think I used the wrong past tense.”

Ali pulled Viktor’s workbook closer to him. At the back of his mind, SATRIA works halfway across Cyberaya with none the wiser.

Alicia is benched from any further missions for the time being.

Alicia is angry, frustrated, and annoyed. And no amount of pleading to the General will take that order back.

Now she has too much free time to do nothing.

Ugh.

Out of boredom and rebellious tendency all 12-year-olds appear to have, she broke out her old suit; the one from her days as Masked Menace and went out for a ‘sightseeing’.

Careful not to be sighted by CCTV, Alicia launched herself from one rooftop to another. Perched on warehouses and on top of buildings, and watched the highway stretch into the distance like a river of light.

She stalked late-night pedestrians walking around. Buying a cone of ice cream. And another highway lightshow before calling it a night.

Alicia will return early morning. Giving herself enough time to sleep before waking up for school. Where she played up the part of a dutiful student. The screaming match a few days ago is simply an anomaly that happened due to stress and whatnot.

Late that night, she will go out again. For another ‘sightseeing’ round.

The cycle will then repeat.

Saturday morning, Alicia helps out her uncles at Mamak Maju. Taking orders and giving food to customers.

She is probably grumpier than usual. And it is noticeable enough that Uncle Rahul had asked her to work behind the counter while he took customer’s orders. Her face probably already scares a number of their customers away.

“You are grumpier than usual,” Uncle Razman chatters, hands full with drinks. “Trouble at school?”

Alicia picked up an order. “I’m fine.” Tally that up and print the receipt. “School is ok.”

He tsk-tsked at her. “That’s not what your appa said, aa....”

Appa gossips a lot.

There is no way out of this for her.

Alicia sighed, letting her shoulders slump slightly. “There is this boy...” she began reluctantly.

That was all it took.

Uncle Rajesh let out a whisper-squeal, nearly dropping the plates in his hand. “Boy?” he mouthed dramatically to the others, eyes wide and shining with excitement. Alicia didn’t dignify that with a response.

“We’re not on good terms right now,” she continued quickly, trying to brush past the moment. “We had an argument.”

“That’s it?” Uncle Razman blinked. “If you did something wrong, just apologize.”

“Aiyoo… It’s not that hard,” Uncle Rajesh chimed in, still grinning ear to ear. “Give him food and be friends already. Nobody gets angry when they’re eating good naan.”

“But, he is not like us.” Alicia protests. “Why should I make up with him?”

“Ah...” Uncle Rahul crossed his arms, already finished with his round. “So that makes him not worth making up with?”

“I didn’t say that.” Alicia defended herself. “I just-”

“Just what?” Uncle Rajesh said. “What use are we as protectors if we see people as less?”

Uncle Rajesh nudged her shoulder gently. “Try, Icha. It does not make you weak to try. It makes you strong enough to care.”

“And if he rejects your apology…” Uncle Razman pointed out. “Then sleep easy because you tried.”

“Then bring him here so we can meet this boy!” he declared, lighting up with excitement. “Ooh… Our Icha is now talking about boys.”

Alicia groaned, covering her face with both hands. “That’s not what this is-!”

Uncle Razman let out a whistle, clearly enjoying himself. “Aiyoo, can you imagine? Mamak Maju's first meet-the-boy dinner. We’ll make teh tarik special. Add extra froth.”

Uncle Rahul looked at her expectantly. An eyebrow arched up.

Alicia exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping.

Dos have been watching for five minutes as Cinco ran around like a headless chicken gathering the Numeros for the meeting.

She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, observing the chaos unfold with the kind of blank stare that’s full of internal judgment.

Why the rush?

Because Uno said so.

About what?

Nada.

Nothing.

All this secrecy makes her hackles rise.

Now, any second before Uno came in, Cinco realized she hadn’t accounted for Nueve. And the rest of the Numeros are not helping at all.

“Hanging out somewhere with juice packs.” Siete snickers. “Like a kid.”

Cinco pressed her lips into a thin line. Her eye twitched, but she turned toward Dos, who hadn’t moved since this mess began. She gives Dos an expectant look. “He’s in his lab, right?”

Dos didn’t even bother uncrossing her arms. “He’s in his lab,” she confirmed with a grunt. “Where else would that brat be?”

Cinco huffed, spun on her heel, and went to fetch their ninth from the lab. Soft tap tap tap from her boots faded.

Ah, peace once again.

Dos allowed herself the indulgence of a brief shuteye, her head leaning back against the cold wall to catch some rest.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last long.

Bits of Cinco’s conversations float around. Coming closer to them. “…The Neurogear will need a little refining for more flexibility. We could do a second test..” She chirped.

And...she continued on…

“Just give me names for field testing and I'll see wh-”

Dos cracked one eye open.

Cinco finally reappeared, dragging Nueve by the elbow like she’d just discovered him loitering in a corner. That guy looked like he was going to screech any minute now. He was also, as the twins said, drinking from a juice box.

Nueve paused only once to eye the room, unimpressed, then returned to his drink with a loud slurp that echoed just enough to annoy everyone present.

Cinco then had the gall to dump him beside her, before turning on her heel and sauntering to the far end of the room. Specifically, to the right of where Uno always stood during meetings.

Oh, how Dos hates Cinco.

Trez caught Dos's eyes from across the room. For a second, the two of them share a commiserating look. Dos swallow down a sigh, this will be a long meeting.

Alicia entered the classroom next Monday to see that she was not the first to arrive.

Ali was sleeping in his seat, head resting on folded arms atop his desk. His face hidden in the crook of his elbow.

With no students nearby, now is probably the best time for them to talk.

Alicia stepped closer to the boy, her intention clear. Alicia lifted her hand, hovering just above his shoulder to wake Ali up.

But she decided against it, letting him sleep instead.

Because Ali looks exhausted.

Alicia shifted away and quietly placed her bag at her desk, careful not to make any noise. She took one last glance at him, then turned and left the classroom to start her prefect duties.

After Alicia stepped out of the classroom, Ali opened his eyes.

Ali is not sleeping at all.

He just doesn’t know what to say to Alicia either.

Chapter Text

At the end, Alicia is the one who broke the ice. She approached Ali during lunch break, in full view of the whole school.

Ali and Viktor, who were talking just moments earlier, fell silent the second they noticed her approaching. The clatter of utensils and background chatter in the canteen seemed to fade as she reached their table. Viktor glanced around, sensing the eyes already turning toward them.

Ali stiffened slightly, unsure of what was about to happen. The last time they’d faced each other like this, it had ended in shouting.

But… Alicia didn’t look angry?

Alicia stood there a beat longer, then said, “Ali.”

Is she going to get angry at him?

Ali looked up, nervous. “Yeah..?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For how I treated you that day. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Ali paused. Then nodded. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled either. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you.”

“It’s ok.”

“We’re both at fault. And we both said sorry,” Ali offered, a little bit bashful, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at her. “So… zero-zero?”

Alicia looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Then, after a beat, her expression softened.

“Zero-zero.” Alicia agreed, and for the first time in a while, she gave a small smile to Ali.

“Ah… Do you want to eat with us?” Ali offered. Alicia might have imagined it, but the boy sounded a little bit hopeful.

Beside him, Viktor nodded instinctively, still chewing on his sandwich, then froze mid-bite as the words sank in. He turned a wide-eyed, shocked look toward Ali, as if silently asking; Are you serious? Her? Here? With us?

Viktor swallowed quickly. “No! I mean - of course! Sure, yeah, why not!” He scooted over on the bench, nearly knocking over his water bottle in the process. “Plenty of room.”

“I can’t,” Alicia refused. “I need to meet a teacher after this.”

And just like that. Alicia left.

After that day, things were less tense between Ali and Alicia.

Alicia stepped back into her classroom after recess. The class was buzzing with joy after celebrations.

Bits of confetti and torn wrappers littered on desks, and the faint scent of cake and ice cream still lingered in the air.

Alicia had expected this; she heard Shed ask for permission from the teachers a few days ago to celebrate his birthday in class during recess.

She even saw Shaun carry in the boxes of food and goodies before classes started. But knowing this didn’t stop the quiet pang of disappointment.

As a prefect, Alicia had responsibilities. Supervising the corridor during recess meant missing out on certain things.

Alicia headed for her desk, already preparing to brush it off, when she noticed something on it.

A small paper plate sat neatly on her desk. On it is a slice of cake, donuts and curry puffs, and noodles. The plate is covered with another upside-down plate to keep debris and flies away. Her name was scribbled on the plate. There is also a goodie bag placed beside it.

She knew that handwriting.

Alicia blinked. Then turned her head.

Ali was sitting at his table, eyes on his tablet, scribbling notes. If he noticed her looking at him, he didn’t show it. Ali had kept aside some of the celebrations for her so she wouldn’t be left out.

Alicia hadn’t expected to be remembered.

But he thought of her anyway.

She glanced at him once more, thankful that Ali thinks for her. “Thanks.”

Ali’s pen paused for half a second, just enough for Alicia to catch it. Then kept writing. There is the smallest hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Agent Karya confidently stepped out of the MATA Academy secret door and into the SRT Cyberaya 1school's storage room. Emotion check, disguise in place. He is ready for his role as Cikgu Bidin and-

“Cikgu?”

Nearly jumped out of his skin in shock.

He blinked. Pull up his sunglasses for a better look.

One of the school students, civilian Ali of 6 Avicenna was standing there, in front of him.

“Ali!” Cikgu Bidin exhaled, placing a hand over his chest with dramatic flair. “You startled me.”

Ali blinked. “I didn't mean to. Just… wasn’t expecting to see you walk out of the wall.”

Cikgu Bidin’s laugh was nervous and a bit too forced. “Old maintenance door,” he said quickly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. “You know how weird school can be. Someone put shelves at the doors to make DIY hidden rooms. Nothing special.”

“Really?” Ali tilted his head, trying to take a look at the ‘hidden room’. “Whoa..”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Ali asked Cikgu Bidin, curious.

“What are you doing here?” Cikgu Bidin returned the question back to Ali.

“This.” Ali held up a box. “Teachers asked me to drop this off in the storeroom.”

“Right, right,” Bidin plucked the box out of Ali’s grasp, placing a hand on Ali’s shoulder and steering him toward the exit. “Well, mission accomplished. Time to get back to class.”

“You shouldn’t be hanging around here anyway.”

A faint shimmer of static pulsed across the hidden door frame, almost invisible. There is a momentary flicker in the lightbulb. The nanites left behind by Ali had begun to interact with the door's security circuit.

Cikgu Bidin, unaware, kept chatting about test papers as they walked back toward the classroom.

Ali, walking beside him, didn’t say much. But his lips curled just slightly.

“Cikgu?” Ali asked.

“Hm?” Cikgu Bidin glanced down at him, indulging the conversation now that they were out of the school storage room.

“Why do you wear sunglasses inside?” Ali asked.

“Err…”

It’s Tuesday and it’s raining hard.

Dark, heavy clouds cover the sky, so thick it feels more like late evening instead of early afternoon. A surprise since weather watch reports a clear sky for a few days at the very least.

Nature's unpredictability at its finest. Where rain slamming down as if earth owed them money and the roads doing their best to imitate lakes.

Most students plan to linger around, preferring to wait until the rain slows down. Ali did not have that option.

Once the last bell ring, Ali rushed out into the downpour. The rain hit him hard, soaking him to the skin within seconds. A few times, Ali nearly slipped on the slippery floor, righting himself at the last minute and ran through the storm even with the water slowing him down.

Running across the road, he almost run down by a lorry. In Ali’s defense, the vehicle coming out of the intersection caught him by surprise.

Ali’s heart lurches. He doesn’t see the lorry until it's nearly on him. High beam staking him to the road.

The lorry let out a loud deafening horn, but Ali didn’t move. He’s frozen stiff.

Then, something slammed into his back, hard.

So strong that he feels like he is flying forward onto the tarred road. Ali hit the road shoulder-first. Then rolled from the force of the hit, before ending up face-up on the road.

For a moment, all Ali could do was lie there, blinking at the rain hammering down from above.

Beside him, Alicia pushed herself onto her elbows.

“Ali!” She snapped, “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?”

Alicia? What is she doing here? “Ah…h” Ali stammers. “Li- Light.”

“Light? What light?” Alicia leaned closer, worry overtaking her irritation. “Ali? Are you okay?”

Isn’t she already dead?

Ali couldn’t find the answer. His hands tremble- no, his whole body is shaking. A tingle right to the edge of his fingers. A hand cupping his face.

Who touch him!

Who touch him!

Who touch him!

No!

Alicia's eyes roam over Ali’s face, looking for any sign of head injury or concussion. No skin break, but his pupil blown wide.

“Light? What light?” Alicia demanded. “Ali? Are you ok?”

Ali was unresponsive to her. Not good.

She dragged Ali to the shaded part of the side road; under the shop’s awnings, then into a neighborhood shop after the owner ushered them inside.

There, she took a quick check at his shoulder for any injury. No blood, just a little bruised. He’ll be fine.

Hopefully.

Ali came back to Alicia sitting in front of him, with their hand clasped. Towels on their head. She looked at him in concern, massaging Ali’s wrist to let blood flow in.

Ali gave her a quick press, and Alicia let his hand go. Ali curled his hand close to himself. Her hand is too warm and he is freezing.

“You’re back with me?” Alicia asked. This close, Ali could see her pale as paper with hair stuck to her face. They both look like they just took a swim in a pool.

“Yeah.” Ali pulls the towel tighter to his body, the pressure grounding him. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Kids,” The owner came back in front, holding two cups of instant noodles; it was one of the shopkeepers that Ali always passed through to the alley. “Here take this. On the house.”

Ali stayed silent as Alicia talked to the shopkeeper. Give her a nod of thanks when she hands him a cup, relishing in holding the warm container.

They both watch the lady bustle back inside, the cup held close to their body to take in as much heat as possible. The fragrance from the curry broth wafted onto their face, spread faster with the rain outside.

Ali poked the noodles with a plastic fork, gingerly eating them when the broth cooled a bit. Alicia too, eats her noodles after Ali.

For a while, the only sound that exists is two kids eating out of cup noodles with the rain falling down outside.

“I’m sorry,” Ali murmured, looking down at his cup. There is little broth left, few dehydrated vegetables floating. “I froze up.”

They both fall into contemplative silence. Outside, the rain slows down from a steady downpour into a gentle patter.

Ali shifts uncomfortably, feeling the awkwardness creep in. It’s hard to keep his guard up when Alicia is this close; the friendship they used to share is now unfamiliar, too intimate for this timeline where they haven’t quite gotten there yet.

He wants to say something, maybe break the silence with a joke or a story, but the words would catch in his throat.

Luckily, he is saved by the shop owner.

“You’re going there in this weather, aren’t you?” The shop owner came outside, this time with an umbrella. “Use this one, return this back later.”

“Thanks auntie.” Ali smiles gratefully at the lady, folding the towels into a roll. “We’ll return the towels later too. After we wash it.”

“Going where?” Alicia asks, throwing her cup into the trashcan. “In this weather?”

“C’mon, we’re pretty near.” Ali peered outside, the rain is still falling but no longer heavy. He opened the umbrella; made to fit an adult, but good enough for two kids to squeeze in.

Alicia hesitated a bit before shaking her head free from water droplets and jump in with Ali. Together, the two of them walk through the rain, with Ali leading the way.

They go deeper into the alley until Ali arrives at a makeshift shelter made out of wooden boards and tarps. Here, he stops walking.

A few pairs of eyes peeked out under the tarps. A few plaintive mew's coming out of the shelter. The storm terrifies them.

“Here, hold this.” Ali said, passing the umbrella handle to Alicia before crouching down, hand reaching into his bag for kibbles. The sound entices more cats to come out. But they still stay clear out of rainwater range.

Ali took the cat bowls filled to the brim with rainwater and flipped them. He shakes the bowls for good measure before filling them with kibbles. Then, he nudged the bowls into the tarp, careful not to let the food get wet.

Once inside, the cats goes straight for the kibbles. One left the group and went straight to nuzzling Ali.

“There you are,” Ali murmured, running his fingers along the cat’s spine. He scratched behind her ears, then gently lifted her chin to check her eyes, ears, and finally her mouth. He used the towel to dry some rain off her fur. Give a quick wipe to her face.

“There. That’s better, isn’t it?” Ali murmured.

The cat blinked up at him before letting out a soft meow, as if in reply.

Ali chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, thought so.”

Looking at the cats enjoying the food, Ali abruptly realizes he is not pelted by the rainwater.

Had the rain stopped?

He looks up… to find Alicia holding umbrella over his head.

Ali opened his mouth to say something – A joke perhaps? Would that be appropriate? – But Alicia already beat him to it.

“You’re dripping on the cat.”

The cat meows in agreement.

Ali stare at the ceiling listlessly, not able to move a finger.

He is in misery.

From fever.

Turns out, running in the rain yesterday did have consequences.

His fever was high enough that it left him no other choice but to stay at home. An option that usually would bring Ali joy is now full of boredom and headaches.

Luckily for him, Viktor came visiting. If only he had actually bothered to inform him before barging into Ali’s bedroom, that would be better. Especially since his friend did not come alone.

Ali blinked slowly. “You came here,” he said, voice rough with congestion. “Why?”

“Because you’re sick, ” Alicia deadpanned, already brushing past him. “And because you weren’t answering your phone.”

“So you just... broke in?” Ali lifted his head up a little, blindly grabbed his phone on the nightstand to check incoming messages. Multiple calls from Viktor are in his call history.

Alicia eyes his phone casing. A retro flip cover model that looks like a book. How old.

Ali sure got this old man's taste.

Victor shrugged with zero guilt. “Comot let us in.”

Ali blinked again. “She did?”

“Your cat let us in because she wants food.” Alicia told Ali.

A light meow answered from the windowsill. Comot, the traitor, was perched comfortably, licking her paw guiltlessly. She flicked her ears once, completely unfazed.

Alicia crouched beside him now, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin. Her expression softened slightly, but her voice remained even. “You good?”

Ali let out a pathetic, strangled groan in reply.

Viktor laughed. “That’s a no.”

Alicia pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “You're burning up.”

“I asked my ma if she could make you some soup at school earlier.” Viktor shrugged. “Alicia worried, so I asked if she wanted to come with me.”

“I did not.” Alicia denies Victor’s suggestion. “I’m here for the towel and umbrella.”

The three of them could hear the sound of glass bowls and mugs from the kitchen. Viktor gives Ali a conspiratorial look before continuing. “And Mia’s here because she doesn’t want to miss out.”

She just wants to follow Viktor…

“Ahh…” That’s all Ali can say to that.

Ali is in a dream.

Cars overturned. Road cracked. He can feel the heat licking his face. Something smashes through buildings.

The sky above is a sickly shade of orange, thick with smoke and ash. The sun – if it's still there – is blotted out, casting everything in a dim, burnt hue. Cars are overturned, some still smoldering, others reduced to twisted heaps of metal. The road beneath Ali's feet is cracked.

He can feel the heat on his skin.

He doesn’t remember where, but he knew that destruction was near. More importantly, Alicia is in front of him.

Emergency siren blares out. But there is no sign of people. Only Ali and Alicia. There is a weight on his chest. The weight makes it hard for Ali to breathe.

He needs to bring her to safety. Far away from here.

Ali took a step forward, extending his hand. His hand is bigger in his dream, with calluses and scars. He is taller here, too.

“Alicia,” Ali called for her, realizing all at once that his voice is deeper. Ah, he is an adult here. Alicia is a child. “Come with me.”

“No.” She refuses.

Harsh wind carrying dust and bits of debris, hitting his face. He can’t see well like this. How can Ali protect her if he didn’t know what they were facing?

“Alicia,” Ali called again, desperate. “Please. We need to get out of here.”

“You knew.” Alicia hugged herself tightly. She shook her head in denial.

Something massive crashes through a building in the distance. A plume of debris shoots into the air, and a shockwave ripples out from the impact. Windows shatter from the blast.

“You knew all these,” Alicia said, voice trembling in pain. “You could’ve helped us. You could’ve warned us.”

“I didn’t know how,” Ali replied, his voice cracking. “I was-”

“YOU LEFT US!” Alicia screamed. Shouting with a bitter edge in her voice that sent him reeling.

“Alicia! No!” Ali said, panic in his voice now. “I didn’t mean to- Please, listen to me!”

The ground is shaking. Something at the edge of his eyesight exploded, but Ali didn’t dare to take his eye off his teammate.

He ran to Alicia, hoping to reach her in time. But she stepped back, avoiding him.

“Ali.” Bit by bit, her face decayed; first her hair fell off, then her skin flaked off like dry paper, until only a grinning skeleton remained.

What left in front of Ali is now a yellow combat suit hanging loosely on a skeleton frame.

“This,” the skeletal Alicia hissed. “This is what you put us through.”

“You tried so hard to become a hero,” Alicia spat. “That you didn’t see what you have become.”

She stepped forward. Bones knock against one another.

Cla-clack… tap… clak.

“You have become one with the enemy.”

PatPat

Merrrow

Ali jolted awake. Chest heaving.

His breath came in quick, uneven bursts.

It’s hard for him to breathe, he feels heavy.

PatPat PatPat

Ohmygod whatisit whatisit

whatisit

PatPatPat

Mrow

PatPatPat

Ali blinked, disoriented.

Comot is sitting on Ali, tail flicking side by side as she batted at his face with one paw. Ali just stared at her, still dazed from the dream.

PatPat PatPatPat Pat

Highly intent on her job that Comot keeps batting him long after Ali wakes up. She continued to do so even after she noticed Ali’s awake.

Ahh… Violence.

Then Comot tucks down into a self-satisfied loaf and purrs on him like nothing, the audacity. But she is forgiven, because the slow rumble that Comot gives out pulls Ali away from his thoughts.

Comot has been trying to wake Ali from his nightmare.

With trembling hands, Ali ran a hand over her back. Feeling fur under his hand.

Later, Ali sat hunched at the kitchen table, arms folded on the cold surface. His hand loosely wrapped around a mug, the drink inside had long turned cold.

Not that Ali notices all that since he has been stuck inside his head.

He remembers all too well how Alicia's voice echoed in her anger.

Her words.

“You have become one with the enemy.”

Ali exhaled roughly, steadying his breath.

“Why are you not sleeping?”

“Wha-” Ali startled so much that he nearly fell off his seat in his shock.

He looked up to see his dad looking at him. Ali didn’t realize he was being watched.

“Ayah!” Ali said in surprise. “I, uh… I didn’t realize you were awake.”

Dr Ghazali stared at his kid. His hair was mussed in a half-asleep style.

Dr Ghazali actually had just finished using the washroom attached to his bedroom.

Wasn’t planning on heading downstairs in the first place, but the stiffness in his joints urged him to stretch, and years of habit drove him to do a quiet round through the house, checking locks and switches and all that stuff parents with kid wont to do.

Then he saw the light coming out from the kitchen. Suppressing a sigh, Dr. Ghazali make his way there. Ali probably didn’t realize he left the light on before he went to sleep.

He didn’t expect to find his son actually in the kitchen.

His father stepped into the kitchen fully now, squinting at the light. “Just couldn’t sleep, so…” Ali added a bit lamely. “I… am… trying to wake up early?”

There was a pause. Then, the raised eyebrow.

“At… 4 in the morning?” his father asked.

Ali glanced at the clock on the wall. The clock shows 4.32 a.m.

He winced. Ah.

“Your fever just broke, go back to sleep.” Dr Ghazali's tone is firm. “You need to go to school. Later.”

Ali hesitated for a second before following Dr Ghazali's order. He walked past his dad and up the stairs. Halfway up, he paused again.

“Ayah,” There seems to be something in his son’s thought. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” Dr Ghazali, who is still downstairs, looked up. “What is it?”

Ali took a moment to center his thoughts.

“How do you grieve for someone still alive?” Ali asks. For some reason, deeply contemplative.

Dr Ghazali looked at his kid, perplexed by his questions.

“I don’t know,” Dr Ghazali said, caught off guard. “Just pretend it doesn’t hurt?” He tried to laugh it off, but it came out a little uneven. Awkward. “Try not to think about it, I guess. They're still alive, right? So what’s there to grieve?”

Dr Ghazali waved a hand, like trying to shoo the question away from his mind. “Don’t dwell on things like that. You’ll just make it worse for yourself.”

There was a long pause where neither of them spoke.

Dr Ghazali added, almost as an afterthought, “Is this what kids think about nowadays? Grieving people who aren’t even gone?”

“Ah.. I don’t think so?” Ali answered but it ended up more like a question than a statement. It's awkward.

“Go to sleep.” Dr Ghazali told his son.

“Ok Ayah.” This time Ali followed his word, and went straight to his bedroom.

Dr Ghazali lingered at the bottom of the staircase for a few more seconds. His thoughts tried to pull together an answer, but he came out short.

Dr Ghazali did not lie to Ali. He truly did not know. The people that he grieves for are all six feet under.

He turned back to the kitchen, reaching for the light switch when he realized. There are actually two mugs on the table. He didn’t notice it because Ali placed it at his side instead of in front.

Who is the other mug for?

Chapter Text

It is the first class of the day. The students were waiting for the teacher to come in. As they wait, small talk floats around.

A few were chatting around with each other, some students were yawning, some were checking their notes, and some were copying yesterday’s homework in panic. The overhead fan spun lazily, failing to stir the humid morning air.

Ali, of course, was not doing any of those things.

Ali leaned at Alicia’s table, a mischievous grin on his face as he held out a packet full of sour gummy candies to her. Ali looks like offering an item of great consequence. Alicia does her best to ignore Ali's coy smile.

“Come on,” he said, voice low and tempting. “Just one.”

Alicia eyed the purple-colored gummy with visible suspicion. “No,” she said flatly. “Not interested.”

Ali gasped, theatrically wounded. “Don’t be a chicken, Alicia.”

“I am not a chicken.”

“Bwak bwak bwak.” Ali makes a sound like a pecking hen.

Alicia ignored him, looking straight ahead.

“Bwak bwak.” This time, Ali moved his arm around like chickens flapping their wings. A few of their classmates started to look at them in curiosity and interest. Even Viktor glanced up from his conversation with Sarsi. A few kids were already laughing.

But Ali is not done yet; he has a secret weapon.

He placed himself at the front of the table, where the whiteboard was placed. Alicia has no other choice but to look at him face-to-face. To look away is to admit her defeat, and she refuses to do so.

He looked straight at Alicia and let out one final bwak to her.

“Bwak...”

Alicia narrowed her eyes at him, then, with a quiet sigh, she took the gummy from the packet. “Fine. One.”

Ali leaned in, clearly enjoying himself.

She took a deep breath before putting it in her mouth. The moment the gummy hit her tongue, she knew she fucked up. Her tongue shriveled and her jaw locked.

Ali knew Alicia long enough to understand that she is internally screaming.

It’s too sour!!!

Alicia grabbed her water bottle and immediately took a long gulp, but even then, the sour lingered. It clung to the roof of her mouth like it had rented the space and refused to be evicted.

Alicia blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears threatening to spill. She raised one trembling hand and jabbed a finger at Ali in rage.

“Aha ha!” Ali burst out laughing, almost falling off the table. “You look like a lemon!”

Alicia gave him the fiercest glare she could muster. With her pinched face though, it is not very convincing.

“Regret,” she gritted, barely intelligible through clenched teeth. “I regret everything.”

Ali was practically wheezing now, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. He clutched the edge of her desk for balance.

“I told you it was strong!” he cackled.

“No you didn’t!” she hissed.

A few seats away, Sarsi was in the middle of a conversation with Viktor, the two leaning over a shared tablet.

“Look at this,” Sarsi tapped the screen. “They’re starting a construction project here. There’ll definitely be construction trucks on the road soon.”

Viktor’s eyes lit up like a child spotting a candy store. “Do you think they’ll bring in cranes too?” He bounced in his seat, clearly thrilled at the prospect. “Hey Ali, wanna guess what they’re gonna build next?”

Ali couldn’t stop his snickering, still amused by Alicia’s puckered face from the sour gummy. “Shopping mall,” he replied, drawing the attention of the two boys. “Developers will keep building more malls. What else?”

Viktor shrugged with a grin. “Mall give them money, loh.”

Sarsi tapped at the tablet again, murmuring something about traffic and cement, but Ali had already turned his attention back to Alicia, who was still fighting the sour aftershock of the gummy.

“Anyway,” he said, nudging Alicia with a finger. “We’re still on for the study group later, right? After school?”

Alicia, still recovering from the gummy, managed a nod. “Fine. But you need to text me the place.”

Ali smirked. “That’s okay. You’ll be doing history. My math’s perfect.”

Alicia gave him a look.

“…Okay, almost perfect.”

Alicia is in Math class when her MATA pager beeps. She is requested ASAP.

“Teacher, I’m not feeling well,” Alicia gave her excuse. “May I go to the nurse?”

“Be quick.” Cikgu Munah said.

Alicia did not wait long. Once she received the teacher’s permission, she immediately left the class. To the agency through school secret passage.

Alicia didn’t realize that Ali is watching her from his table.

His pencil had stopped moving for a while now, after Alicia walked out of the class. The pencil’s tip hovered over a half-solved problem as his eyes lingered on the door.

I used to be there too. I miss racing you to that place.

Too busy contemplating, Ali didn’t realize that he was in danger until it was too late.

“ALI!”

The sudden shout cracked through the air like a whip.

Ali jolted upright in his seat, blinking rapidly.

“Pay attention!” Cikgu Munah barked, standing at the front of the class with a disapproving glare sharp enough to cut chalk. Fellow students snigger at him being scolded.

“Y-yes, teacher!” Ali scrambled to look busy, flipping a page and pretending to calculate something.

Back at MATA HQ, Professor Akram sat in a secured debriefing chamber, sipping water with a tremble in his hands. In front of him is Pillar Zain, sitting in a chair.

“I…” Prof Akram began, faltering. He swallowed and tried again. “I just need a second.”

Zain gave a faint nod, his gaze never leaving the agent. “Take your time.”

Prof Akram waited for a moment to centre his thoughts.

He breathed in. Then.

“I’m ready.” Prof Akram said.

Zain gave a slight inclination of his head and activated the secure recording system with a click. A red light blinked to life in the corner of the room.

Professor Akram placed the cup gently on the table, straightened in his chair, and began to talk.

Chapter Text

In the secured debriefing room at MATA HQ. Prof Akram revealed all he knew about the Numeros. A terrorist group specifically gathered by Uno to destroy MATA.

“Uno handpicked each member for their skills and abilities.” Prof Akram paused, eyes flickering to the Pillars seated before him.

“Some of them,” Akram continued, “could take on an entire MATA elite team alone. And win.”

That statement landed like a blow. Pillar Dayang’s brow furrowed slightly, but she remained silent. She exchanged a quick glance with Zain.

“And Jenny?” Pillar Dayang, who finally joined the interrogation alongside Pillar Zain, asked Prof Akram. “Is she a part of this?”

“Yes,” Prof Akram, once known as Quatro replied. “Jenny is a Numeros. Codename Cinco.”

Silence followed his admission.

Pillar Dayang’s fingers hovered over the edge of her chair, knuckles pale. Across Prof Akram, Pillar Zain sat stiff-backed, his hands steepled in front of him, unreadable as ever. But the subtle tension in his jaw told Dayang that the revelation had hit him just as hard.

Meanwhile, Rizwan is escorted by Jenny in a dilapidated building. Used by members of Numeros who are not doing missions.

“So…. Is this everyone?” Rizwan asked. His mind whirled with all he could gather.

“Ah, I forgot one.” Jenny smiles cheerfully. Aware that she raised his hackles by omitting intel. She knew him all too well, former co-worker turned co-worker back and all that.

“Don’t worry, Rizwan. You two have met before.” Cinco cheer, basking in Rizwan's panic.

Who?

.

.

.

.

.

“Oh hey.” Ali casually greeted the redhead when he saw her, and standing beside Jenny was Agent Rizwan. Or maybe rogue agent? He is not sure. Has he done that yet? Time travel really did mess with a person's sense of sequence.

“You’re going out?” Jenny asked, a smile tugging on her face when she saw Ali walking out. Mini scooter in his hand.

“Yep,” Ali flippantly replies. “Got a study date with General’s kid. Be back in a few weeks.”

And then proceed to walk past the two of them like nothing.

Ali inwardly smiled seeing the agent’s eye twitch at the ‘General’s kid’ and ‘date’. Agent Rizwan looked at him confused, and then recognition. He had seen him before.

Collecting the kid for a witness statement. He had been undercover as a law enforcement.

So Jenny is in contact with the kid. There is no way he is a nobody.

Rizwan mentally counts his list, comparing faces to their corresponding numbers. Uno, Duo, Trez, Siete...

Ali for sure glad to be present at the time, how else would he get a front view when Agent Rizwan connected the dots?

“This is the picture we could gather on them.” Dayang showed Prof Akram a set of pictures on the holographic screen. “Inform us if there is any information you could add.”

Prof Akram’s fingers trembled as he sifted through the images, his breathing growing shallower with each picture.

Dos, Cinco, Trez, Ocho.

Then, his eyes froze on one particular frame; Ali, caught in footage linked to Cinco. From that day in Zali Mart.

A sharp intake of breath escaped the man, his face drained of color.

Dayang noticed it immediately. “Prof, I assure you, the boy is under sufficient protection,” she said firmly, trying to steady the older man. “He is safe, no one from Numeros can get near him.”

But instead of relief, panic flooded Prof Akram’s expression even more.

“Safe?” He whispered, his voice cracking. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“We already took his statement on the encounter. And appropriate security has been placed for the boy.” Zain assuring Prof Akram. “He is well protected from harm.”

“Oh… You fool!”

“Prof?”

“No!” Akram snaps. “You don’t understand!” He staggers backward, his chair clattering down.

“That boy is one of them!”

“Are you joking?” Dayang blinked, incredulous at the frankly outrageous claim. “He is a child.”

“No, I am not,” Prof Akram insisted, his eyes dark with memory and dread. “His name is Ali Ghazali, is he not?”

This time, Pillar Zain answered cautiously. “Yes… that is his name.”

“Then that boy is one of them. He is a Numeros.”

With the pillar's faces turning pale. Prof Akram hammered the last nail.

“His codename is Nueve.”

Ali arrived at Mamak Maju late afternoon. The aroma of frying noodles and freshly pulled tea lingered in the air, mingling with the distant clatter of cutlery.

He walked in casually, choosing a table tucked near the side wall. He placed his schoolbag on a seat beside him.

A waiter soon approached with a notepad in hand.

"Minum apa, dik?"

"A glass of teh tarik, please," Ali replied, offering a polite smile.

"Okay, mau makan juga?"

Ali shook his head gently. "Not yet. I’m waiting for my study partner."

The waiter scribbled Ali’s order and walked away.

A few minutes later, another waiter brought over a glass of teh tarik. Steam curled from the frothy top.

"Here you go," He said, placing the glass down carefully in front of Ali. "Still not ordering any food?"

"No, thank you. I’m okay.” Ali smiled again, this time more relaxed. “I’m waiting for my friend, Alicia. She’s probably late."

The man moved on to other customers, leaving Ali to sip his tea in peace, his gaze occasionally drifting to the traffic outside.

He can’t wait to meet her.

Chapter Text

It had been hours since the truth about Ali came out. That he was a Numeros under the codename Nueve.

MATA agents have been sent all over Cyberaya under the order of General Rama to determine his locations. And if possible, to get the boy into custody.

All return empty-handed. Ali is not at school. Ali is not at his house. Not at his friends. Not even in his usual haunts.

He had gone dark.

Alicia stood frozen in the center of it all, heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it.

Not Ali.

Not her friend.

“This can’t be right,” Alicia murmured to herself, for how many times that day that she herself had lost count. “There must be a mistake.”

Then Alicia remembers. Ali had said something to her that very morning.

Anyway, we’re still on for the study group later, right? After school?

Her eyes widened. “Wait- Ali said we had group study today. He told me… he’d text me the location.”

Alicia fumbled for her phone, unlocked it with shaking fingers, and scrolled through her inbox messages. Her breath caught in her throat, a soft sound of disbelief escaping.

A text, received earlier, a few hours ago.

Ali: Study group at Mamak Maju. Don’t be late! 😊

Her face turned pale.

“Mamak Maju…” Alicia whispered, barely heard over the noise of the command room.

He is waiting there.

General Rama had been standing nearby, arms crossed, barking orders to scrambling agents when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned, surprised to find Alicia standing there, pale and wordless, eyes wide with alarm.

She silently held out her smartphone.

He takes a look at the content, the glow from the screen reflected on his sunglasses. General Rama's face immediately darkened.

Rama’s eyes flicked back to Alicia’s face. “How long ago?” he asked sharply.

“A few hours. Right after school ended,” Alicia answered.

General Rama raised his voice. “Mamak Maju! Get me eyes there! Now!”

Agents snapped to attention. Focusing their search on Mamak Maju and the nearby area. Field agents already on the road adjusted their routes, all moved to where Mamak Maju was located.

“Cover all exit routes.” General Rama gives his command. “Station agents on all public transport within a one-kilometer radius.”

Rama turned, locking eyes with his daughter. “Alicia.”

She turned to him, back straight and shoulders square. “Sir.”

“Prepare for a face-off,” he orders.

Alicia nodded sharp, swallowing hard at the implications.

At Mamak Maju.

Ali sat with Alicia’s uncle. A smile on his face as Rajesh and Razman took turns flipping through a stack of faded photos. Childhood pictures of Alicia. Group pictures where toddler Alicia held up like a plush toy.

How precious.

“Look! Look at this!” Rajesh laughed, nearly slapping the table. “Icha's first day of school.”

Ali chuckled, eyes lighting up with genuine amusement. “This is amazing.” He discreetly wipes a tear from his face.

He spent a wonderful evening with them.

None of them aside from Ali noticed a white cat slipping silently past their feet. The cat slunk into the back kitchen, unnoticed among the scent of curry and dhal.

Then…

“Icha!”

Rajesh’s voice rang out across the busy mamak, bright with welcome and oblivious joy.

Alicia stepped in, half-shrouded in the late afternoon sunlight behind her. Her eyes scanned the tables instinctively until they landed on him.

Ali.

Seated like he belonged at that table. With her uncles. Laughing like it was just another evening.

Rajesh beamed. “Aiyoo... You didn’t tell us you brought a friend today.” He nudged Razman with his elbow, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “You keeping secrets from us now, ah?”

Razman chuckled, glancing over at Ali. “Handsome boy some more. Got manners. Ordered only one teh tarik, said he’s waiting for someone. We didn’t know that someone was you, Icha.

Ali turned, lifting his hand casually in greeting.

“Oh hey, Alicia,” he said, his tone impossibly light. “You’re late.”

Alicia froze in place. For a heartbeat, her brain refused to process what she was seeing.

Alicia had convinced herself - desperately clung to the hope - that it wasn’t true, a miscommunication. That the informant was wrong, that someone else had framed him, that there was still some explanation waiting just around the corner for her to hold to.

Her eyes dropped to the table, then to Uncle Rajesh and Uncle Razman who sat with Ali. The table, also known as MATA’s secret passage to Hq.

He knew.

And just like that, the illusion cracked.

“Didn’t we promise to study after school?” Ali teased.

As Ali talked to Alicia, agents arrived in disguise. They trickle in from all sides, leaving no foxholes for the boy to escape.

Alicia refrained from taking a discreet look. She already knew the agents did their job well.

The entrances to Mamak Maju were all accounted for. Main doors. Side alley. Even the small rear entrance used by kitchen staff. Some of the agents came in through MATA’s secondary access points and blended into the mamak.

Her uncles too noticed something off.

Uncle Rahul stayed behind the counter, his hand resting on the handle of his mop.

Uncle Razman, who moments ago had been joking and laughing with Alicia’s friend, now loosely held his stainless steel mixing cups, one hand still swirling foam in the dregs of teh tarik. His movements were slower.

Uncle Rajesh carefully gathers up Alicia's childhood photos, not willing to let them get ruined.

“Nueve.” A Kombat agent put a hand on Ali’s shoulder. “You are arrested for terrorism.”

Ali looked up calmly. He is not surprised.

Alicia stood rooted where she came in.

“You are Nueve.” She said.

“I am,” he answered, serene. “What will you do now?”

The dinner bustled with the chatter of customers. Not one of them notices a boy escorted out by a number of adults.

Far away from Mamak Maju, Comot drops off her invisibility. She slipped through a vent.

In the cat's mouth is IRIS.

MATA HQ was abuzz with an energy that bordered on frenzy. The usually composed halls and corridors brimmed with hurried footsteps, hushed conversations and agents whispering over their data pad. All barely able to contain their shock. News traveled fast in a place like this.

Everyone there says the same thing. That a core member of Numeros had been caught and was currently in MATA custody.

A boy. Very young. That operated under the codename Nueve.

“He is just a schoolboy,” someone muttered near the briefing hall, voice tight with disbelief. “Looks like he could be in Grade Three or something.”

“He is,” another replied grimly. “They say he goes to SKR Cyberaya 1. Right under our noses.”

There was a ripple of murmured disbelief, heads turning, conversations doubling back on themselves.

“He surrendered?”

“Didn’t even fight,” an Invisio agent chimed in, eyes wide as they leaned closer to the group of agents huddled near the mission board. Their voice was barely above a whisper, but heavy with excitement. “They found him, arrest, and BAM!”

The dramatic boom startled the listeners. A few jumped back, one nearly knocking over a tablet stand. The Invisio smirked.

“They got him into MATA custody!” She declared, arms spread for effect. “Just like that.”

The audience glanced around nervously, digesting the idea. A Numeros, a core member no less, giving himself up? It didn’t sit right.

“Why?” One finally asked. “They say he’s strong.”

“Some say he planned it,” A Kombat muttered darkly, arms crossed. “You think someone like him gets caught by accident?”

"And get this,” Hushed whispers grew more frantic at the continuation of their tales. “Nueve attends the same school as Agent Alicia."

“No way.” A younger agent leaned forward, voice barely above a breath and eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“Same school?!”

“It’s true!”

“There is only one classroom!!!”

“You think she’s in on this?”

“I mean, I gue-”

The whisper died mid-word, forcibly cut off.

Alicia walked past them to MATA command wing, head straight. She didn’t look their way. Or anyone else.

Ali sat waiting in the interrogation room, not too different from the one he had sat in before for a ‘witness statement’. His eyes briefly flickered to the corner of the table, where the paint had chipped, revealing the dull steel underneath. He had noticed it last time too, when he was still playing the role of a concerned student.

Ali almost smiled at that; almost.

This time, it is a different person who started the interrogation. Uncle Bakar.

Ali takes the opportunity to take a closer look at his uncle.

Uncle’s appearance this time is far more disheveled than Ali has ever seen him in this life, and even before. His face blotched and red, he won't stop sniffing. Eyes full of tears. Every few words in and his cries will start all over again.

Uncle Bakar was, undoubtedly, a terrible crier.

“Ali! Oh my dear boy!” Uncle sobbed, voice cracking with another word. “We will fix this! I promis-” He sniffed, cramming another wad of tissues onto his face.

Ali tries to get a word in, but all that wailing and crying prevent the man from hearing anything.

“You’re innocent! I’m sure of it, I’ll –“

Ali gave a tired disgruntled stare at the two-way mirror. Certain that the other side could clearly see his annoyance.

“Uncle….” Ali tries again.

“I will find pro-”

“Uncle…..”

“-here wi-”

“UNCLE!” Ali snapped, out of patience for his wailing uncle who wasted him too much time.

Bakar jolted back from shock, his chair pushed back with a screech. Not familiar at all with this side of his nephew who is not soft-spoken and meek.

“Do not ever imply that I am a victim.” Ali’s eye was hard, sharp, and cold, daring his uncle to refute his claim. “I am not, and you... of all people, need to understand that.”

“Uncle...” Ali paused, a deep breath in, then restarted again with unsettling calm.

“I was the contact.” Ali speaks carefully. Ensuring every word is heard by Bakar, who with every word coming in, looked as though he took a hit by a table to the face.

“What… are you saying?” Bakar was stunned; never once did he ever think that his young nephew was capable of such things. “Ali… is this true?”

Ali looked at his uncle in disappointment.

“Uncle, did you remember that day?” He leaned forward, for all intents and purposes sharing a secret. “When you escort me back from school, you ask me if I took something that is not mine?” Ali continues. “You think that I got IRIS in my hand by accident, that it was all a misunderstanding.”

At Bakar nod, Ali continues.

“It was never a misunderstanding, uncle.” Ali’s hand grips the edge of the table. “I was the contact that day.”

Bakar flinched as if Ali’s confession had struck him.

“Ali.” Uncle Bakar's voice cracked. He took a deep breath, one two before he started again. “Ali, what have you done.”

“Dos and Trez were there to eliminate you. Just in case. You weren’t even supposed to make it back that day.” Ali kept his stare locked on his uncle. “But I already got what I needed from IRIS. So I handed it off.” He finished it off with what will forever be burned into Bakar’s mind. “To you.”

Here, Ali smiles. A sweet one that resembled Aliya so so much. “And you walked off, none the wiser.”

“A-Ali…” Bakar stammered, clearly out of words.

Ali's smile thinned.

“Tell me uncle... why do you care?” He gave out a bitter laugh. “After all, the only reason you talked to me back then was to look for IRIS.”

“Now….” Ali leaned back in his chair. Already given his piece.

“Please step out and get me the General. Out of the detective cosplay this time.” Ali gave off a sardonic smile. “He had been hiding behind the mirror way too long, don’t you think?”

“…in a surprise development today, authorities have conducted a raid on the residence of an unnamed influential figure suspected of funneling public funds and engaging in large-scale corruption. Sources confirm that the individual is currently being detained for questioning, and evidence recovered from multiple sites is now under forensic review…”

The screen at Mamak Maju flashed with footage of police vehicles lined outside a taped-off residence, officers escorting a man out. The ‘unnamed influential figure’ kept his head down with a shackled hand shielding his face. Flashes from cameras are exploding all around him.

A ticker ran along the bottom;

BREAKING NEWS: CORRUPTION RAID ON UNNAMED PUBLIC FIGURE – DEVELOPING STORY.

A wave of muttering rippled through the room. Customers gathered in front of the flatscreen TV, enraptured with the news.

“Probably have been at it for years,” A customer muttered under their breath, eyes fixed on his smartphone.

The news, while indeed big news, is not that surprising. After all, corruption is everywhere. The people themselves have long grown used to their existence.

“All that money, and none of it ever made it to the people who needed it.” Another mumbled bitterly, an elderly lady who is frustrated yet not surprised.

At roadside stalls, people stirred their drinks, barely glancing at the broadcast on the radio. At home, families sat around dinner tables, the voices of newscasters playing in the background like wallpaper noise.

“Think they’ll actually charge him?” A person said. “Or will he walk it off?” Her friend snorted. “Again?”

MATA Detention Centre receives a visitor.

“Prisoner 0804, you have a visitor.”

Ali looked up from his seat in the sterile, too-white assigned visitor room as the door slid open with a hiss.

A tall man stood in the doorway. Ali knew that man.

“Hello, Ayah.” Ali greeted Dr Ghazali.

Chapter Text

General Rama stepped into his office after a long day at work, the door clicking shut behind him. He feels wrung out. Every bone in his body ached and his energy depleted. Sadly, his job keeps piling up, Rama would be lucky if he could grab a bite.

Perhaps that’s why it took a moment for Rama to realize that he wasn’t alone in his office.

Alicia.

For a long moment, he didn’t move. The sight hit him in the chest harder than any briefing and mission failure.

Alicia’s face was tucked into her knees. She didn’t look at him.

His little girl was hiding again. Under his worktable like she used to do.

The sight alone pulls at his heartstrings.

There were days, back when she was little, when Rama would return to his office late and tired, only to find Alicia curled up beneath his desk; sometimes fast asleep with her cheek against a stack of files, sometimes whispering stories to herself or drawing doodles in the dark with a flashlight between her knees.

It had always been her hiding spot. Her safe zone. And seeing her now, no longer as a child but as a young agent crying in silence, made Rama’s chest tighten.

After all, Rama had just spent hours interrogating a boy she once called her friend. Everyone in MATA knew that. Alicia did too. She must have heard about it long before he returned. Maybe she even saw the footage.

He feels like a failure.

Rama knelt down carefully. “Icha?”

No response. He swallowed the hurt in his throat and slid under the table, sitting right beside her. He let the silence stretch out.

The father and daughter sit under the table. The father waiting patiently, while the daughter mourning her friendship.

Alicia sniffles at first, a quiet cry that gets louder until she is outright bawling.

“Appa,” She sobbed, calling out to her father in tears. “Ali a traitor.”

“He is.”

“He’s my friend.”

“I know.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Oh Icha.” Rama gathered her into his arms without hesitation, pulling his daughter close.

“Ali is my friend, Appa.” Alicia cried. “He is my friend.”

Her voice cracked as she cry, raw and aching, as if saying it aloud made the pain more real. Rama closed his eyes, keeping his arm steady, letting Alicia pour everything out. It was the only thing he could do right now.

Rama regretted ever assigning his daughter to guard that- That-.

Alicia cut into Rama's thought. His whole attention turned to her in an instant.

“Appa…” Alicia slowly whispered, more fragile than Rama had ever heard in years. “...My heart hurts.”

Damn that boy.

“Rama.” A voice called out to him.

General Rama turned, halting mid-stride.

It is Pillar Ganz who intercepted him.

“Ganz,” Rama acknowledged, giving a short nod.

Rama is busy. But from the Kombat Pillar's face, it looks like there is more news coming. And not a good one.

He is not wrong.

“We lost Rizwan.” Ganz said.

The next day at school brings its own challenges, especially to those in the know. They all feel the crippling dread; as if he would walk through the doorway with schoolbag in hand, and later feel guilt that he didn’t.

Roll call that day is too long. Teachers paused at his name for a moment before informing the class that Ali would not be attending for a while due to ‘Family issue’.

His empty seat felt louder than anything else in the classroom.

For Alicia, everything moves sluggishly. Class after class. Untethered. As if she is walking through fog.

Before she knew it, it is recess and Alicia is in the canteen with a bowl of noodle soup, she appears to have abandoned her prefect duty.

Alicia stares blankly over her soup, her mind still reeling over what happened. She had not taken a single rest since Ali- Nueve’s capture; had been combing through every interaction they had together since that day.

And now she’s suffering through it.

“No call! No messages! Nothing! Not even a meme!” Viktor is ranting, pacing back and forth at the canteen. “He just goes POOf! And disappear!!!”

Viktor Ong - a childhood friend of Ali who is now put under constant supervision - is not pacified at all by Ali's ‘family issue’ emergency leave. And took it in a very Viktor way; which is a mix of annoyance, constant grumbling, undisguised worry, and mother henning.

“And Mr G won’t even tell me anything!”

She listlessly stirred her noodles with a spoon. The broth has long since turned lukewarm.

Alicia is spared from the duty by General Rama, citing ‘friendship bias’ and ‘emotional compromise’. Thus, members of Agents and Young Agents are dispatched as the main observer, with her holding the rear.

Alicia is not pleased about that, and she made that clear; to not be trusted with her job, up to bringing outsiders into her turf, but she understands her father's fear. The same one she had when she saw him dining in Mamak Maju.

“- I called him! YESTERDAY! FIVE Times!” Viktor passionately grieved, weaving sonnets about the cruelty of life and online abandonment. “We promised to clear a level last night, and I waited hours for him! But not a peep!!!”

Ah, yes. Viktor still didn’t know that his best friend was currently detained in MATA high-security prison.

From the corner of her eye, Alicia saw Agent Karya - alias Cikgu Bidin - dragging himself to the teacher’s loungeroom. Student’s homework in hand and armed to the teeth. He too, has eyebags on top of his eyebags.

It's nice to know she is not the only one without a wink of sleep.

MATA command room is somber.

All three pillars are present. Waiting for the arrival of one of their agents.

With a sharp click, Agent Bakar entered MATA command room. Face to face with the Pillars.

Agent Bakar looks… bad.

The jovial combat agent is not there; who stands there is a man who has his happiness destroyed.

He probably assumed this was about his connection to his nephew, Nueve. And on some level, he was right. But not for the reasons he believed.

"Agent Bakar.” Zain broke the silence first. “A mission for you has been issued.”

“Dayang,” He gave her a nod. “If you could.”

Dayang tapped her fingers on the console. With a flick of her wrist, several images expanded across the command room’s main monitor.

Bakar squinted at the screen. It is pictures of ordinary citizens. Doing ordinary things.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, voice cautious.

“These are neighbours and friends of Professor Akram’s family,” Dayang said, “They have been flagged by our technos for inconsistent background checks.”

“And not only them.” Zain said.

“This also includes a number of individuals Nueve interacted with since early this year.” Zain gestured to the screen. “All of whom had zero digital presence a few years back.

“Which is why we called you here.” Dayang said. “Because of Aliya.”

Bakar’s throat tightened at the mention of Aliya. His eyes lingered on the photos. “What with Aliya?”

“Because before she joined MATA,” Dayang answers, “Aliya operated independently as a vigilante.”

Bakar looked flabbergasted with that information, opening and closing his mouth continuously like a goldfish. It appears that Aliya had neglected to share her past with her own brother. Had he ever wondered how his sister became a MATA agent? The best?

Dayang fluidly switched to another image. Let Bakar deal with that knowledge another time, far away from them.

The image shown now is multiple pictures of a slum.

“Aliya protected a settlement outside city jurisdiction,” Dayang continued, enlarging a satellite photo. “A forgotten place known to the inhabitants as The Pinggiran.”

Bakar takes a long look at the place his sister once fought for. Imprinting the picture in his mind.

“They might know more,” He said slowly. “If we could ask-”

“The Pinggiran is gone.” Ganz cut into Bakar’s sentence. “No one lives there after the slum was destroyed for a manufacturing factory.”

“From witness testimony,” Dayang said, “We found that some of the civilians in question appeared right after the demolition. But with digital records that claimed they had been living there for years.”

“Forged?” Bakar asked.

“Meticulously,” Dayang confirmed.

“Nueve has absorbed the residents of Pinggiran. Recruited and rehomed them within Cyberaya.”

“And thus establishing a powerful base of supporters,” Zain added, the weight of that sentence sinking into the room. “One that likely predates our full surveillance net.”

Bakar swallowed, processing the implications.

A loyal, private force that is hidden all over Cyberaya. This is not good.

“Your mission is to find them,” Dayang said. “Track them. Talk to them if you can. Use your connection to Aliya and Ali. Aliya’s name hopefully still carries weight to them.”

“And yours might too,” Zain added. “As a member of their family.”

Bakar gave a tight nod. “Understood.”

Bakar turned and left the command room, boots heavy against the floor as the door sealed shut behind him.

The silence returned once again.

“Do you think this is the best that can be done?” Dayang asked, her gaze fixed on the now-empty spot Bakar once occupied.

“What other choices do we have?” Ganz replied. “We need to keep him away from HQ for the time being.”

Zain nods in agreement.

Putting Nueve's uncle near MATA detention centre is disastrous. Not to mention all the rumors plaguing the agent. Whisper has already floated around MATA about the Kombat Agent.

Another can of worms too if anything happens to Nueve when Agent Bakar is still within the range of the facility.

“Besides…” Zain said. “We still didn’t know the whereabouts of Agent Rizwan.”

A new round of interrogation is now on the way.

Which means that the situation is still not going well… for MATA.

“You do realize Cinco literally knows more about MATA than me, right?” Ali mocks back.

“Did you have anything to do with Agent Rizwan's disappearance?” General Rama looks like he is trying to rein in his temper; he really did.

“Cinco wants him. Uno too.” Ali yawned; he’s already bored with their Scare-and-Threat Tactics.

Ali leaned back again, letting his head rest against the top of the chair.

A minute passed.

He shrugged. “No idea why.”

”WHAT DID YOU MEAN NO IDEA!” General Rama roared.

Like he said….. boring.

Zain walks into the command room to see Dayang and Ganz watching interrogation clips.

“Got anything?” Zain murmurs to Dayang.

“Not much,” Dayang replies. “But Zain, his monitor band shows unexpected reading.” Dayang read out a list. “Erratic pulse, disturbed REM. He has nightmares every night.”

“This is not normal at all,” Zain said. “Trauma?”

“It is possible.”

“Exhibit symptoms of phantom pain,” Zain noted. “Rubbing certain limbs when exposed to humidity.”

“He went through a stretching routine every morning, as soon as he woke up. Nothing vigorous, but it gives a concerning picture.” Dayang said.

“Light stretch to prevent stiffness.” Ganz nod. “Are there any scars or bone trauma on the boy?”

“Here, take a look at this.” Dayang opens a tab containing an X-ray scan.

She sent the image to the holographic table. “His bones have varied density.”

“All?” Ganz enlarge the screen for a closer look. “How is this possible?”

Ganz frowned at the image. Bone gains density when it breaks; it's simply a part of the healing process. This kid’s bones have bumps and deformations all over, it has been broken all over and healed. Continuously. But the most important question is.

"How did he hide all this?” Zain asks. “Someone must have noticed.”

“That’s the issue, and we have no idea,” Dayang answers. “No reports of anything unusual. He most likely has access to high-tech Medicare. Which is not unusual for a high-ranking member.”

“He also shows signs of metal poisoning,” Dayang said. “More research needs to be done to determine what type.”

“Anything else?” Zain asks.

A pause, then. “He has requested for a pair of hand compression gloves.”

“You give it?” Ganz asked.

“Weaponizing a pair of gloves while possible, gives limited possibilities. I won’t begrudge a child from comfort,” Dayang shrugged, defending her action. “Besides, I check the gloves myself for anything suspicious.”

“Be careful. While still a child, he was able to fool Rama.” Zain said.

“WHO LET THAT BOY OUT!!!”

Uno burst into the hideout. The heavy steel doors slammed shut behind him. He marched toward the center of the room, fury radiating with every step.

“We took him in,” Uno growled, his voice thick with rage. “We trained him.” He slammed his hand against the wall. “We taught him. We take care of him!”

“And now…”

“He surrendered.” The words dripped with venom. “He let himself be captured, like this was some kind of game.”

Uno gritted his teeth in anger. Furious at what the boy’s action had cost him.

That boy who has his own role.

A masterpiece in its own right.

Uno had carved it out with care, years in the making. He took in Aliya’s boy and trained him to best MATA elite. Shape him until there is no flaw or weakness left. The boy’s purpose was to emotionally destroy MATA as they realized that it was her son whom he had recruited to bring them down.

He wants them ruined!

Destroyed!

DEAD!

Now all that effort ended up as a WASTE!!!

Uno reached the central table and slammed his fist down with enough force to rattle the screen monitor. A few sparks leapt from a nearby console.

“ANSWER ME!!!”

Uno roared, turning sharply on the other Numeros still in the room.

No one dared to.

“CINCO!”

Cinco jumped at the sound of her name. “Y-Yes!”

“MOVE THE PLAN UP!!!”

He stalked forward, eyes cutting through the group. “None of you,” he looked at them one by one, voice now low and cold. “will act without my explicit orders. You move when I say move. If any of you think to pull another stunt like that-! If any one of you dares to go on your own like that brat!!!”

He didn’t finish the sentence. The implied threat is more than enough.

He grips IRIS tight, never once letting it out of his grasp after he took it.

“It’s not enough for that brat to keep interfering,” Uno growled. “I will deal with that kid myself once I take MATA.”

He stared at IRIS; this supposed ultimate asset, the crown jewel to his throne of revenge. The weapon that will pull down everything under his heel.

Nueve foiling the surprise is only a setback to them. Nothing will come out of it as long as he has IRIS with him. His victory was inevitable.

What Uno didn’t realize is that IRIS he has is a duplicate. A mere substitute.

The real one has never been in his hand in the first place.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Inside MATA cell… Ali smile.

Chapter Text

“I hope your stay here is comfortable.”

“Pretty good actually,” Ali replied without missing a beat. “Just a little bored in here.”

He is indeed bored. Very, very bored.

Ali would never have thought that he would actually miss going to school, terrifying Cikgu Munah and never-ending homework included. Life in prison is mind-dumbingly boring.

Ali turned his head, already knowing who was speaking to him.

Pillar Zain.

He appears to be visiting outside official visitation time. Not that Ali is supposed to know that, with how the cells here are designed to hide the movement of time. Irregular meal schedule, no device allowed in, and no natural sunlight.

Had he not been familiar with the protocol, Ali would have thought that he was special.

But then, not that anyone was supposed to know that.

Ali took a moment to drink in the sight. Pillar Zain didn’t look all that different. A little older - maybe - when they had yet to meet at this time before . A little harder in the eyes too. But then it was the same man Ali had known in that other life.

It had been decades since Ali last saw him. Not for Zain, of course- but for Ali, who had lived through years and years ahead, and then returned. A whole lifetime between them now.

“May I come in?” Zain asked.

Ali tilted his head a little. Did someone in his position even need to ask?

“Be my guest.” Ali gestured at the only available seat beside his, though the pillar opted for the opposite bench, putting space between them. The heavy cell door sealed behind him with a hiss, locking them in.

A private conversation, it is then.

“I am here because I have a question,” Zain said. “Do you think you can answer it?”

The neuro sure didn’t waste his time, straight to the point.

“Oh,” Ali raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Maybe? That has to depend on the question you have.”

“Back then,” he asked, gaze sharp, “why did you return IRIS to Agent Bakar?”

Ali blinked slowly, his smirk curling at the corners of his mouth, but there was something measured behind it now.

“Why don’t you just take it yourself?” Zain pressed.

“Why be a kid if I can't have a little fun myself?” Ali replied. That is his answer to the neuro. “That traitor still got it in the end after all…”

Zain remained still, his fingers laced together as he stared at nothing in particular. There was something about the answer that tickled him wrong.

Oh

Then...

A small, almost soundless breath escaped him as realization struck. Zain eyes widened and shock rippled across his face, pulling his focus sharply back to the boy.

Pieces clicked into place.

“You didn’t…” he began, but the rest of the sentence never formed.

He didn’t need to say it.

Ali laughed a little to himself. “Uno is furious that day.”

Ali is not kidding, Uno’s rage that day was legendary. He literally thought he would die that day, with how hard Uno was with him.

But then, Cero still has a need for Ali. That’s likely why Cinco took him away and healed him. Cero would not be happy to have a student killed by Uno, no matter how much of a brat he is.

Oh, right… Ali stopped sniggering.

Not polite to laugh when you have company.

He turned his attention back to the man. He who has no idea how much things went FUBAR after his death.

“You should be careful, Pillar.” Ali looked straight into Zain’s eyes, serious. “Uno is not above trickery to get what he believes he is owed.”

“Agent Bakar hasn’t been here for days now.” Mika scowled. “What’s the deal with that?”

The Young Agents had just finished a class with Agent Leon, and were now having a break. Mika is a bit dissatisfied after the sudden switch when the schedule had promised them a combat class with Agent Bakar.

“Agent Bakar still teaches,” Iman corrects Mika, one hand absentmindedly adjusting her shawl. “Just… not as much.”

Both what Mika and Iman said is true.

Their Kombat instructor's appearance at MATA Academy has significantly dropped; the change is impossible not to notice. Agent Bakar used to frequent the Academy often, even as an active agent. Often could be found in the company of his fellow instructors and cadets. If not there, he is surely in the cafeteria.

But now…

The cadets would be lucky if they could catch a glance of his shadow aside from classes. And even that is not a guarantee with how many of his class switched in the Academy schedule.

“Word is,” Jet cut in, puffing out his chest a little as he leaned forward, knowing he had the floor now, “he’s related to Nueve.”

That did it.

The group leaned in with collective intrigue, a few letting out hushed gasps or whispered ‘Oohs’ as if the word Nueve alone wasn’t already enough to raise eyebrows.

Zass leaned in nearer, not wishing to miss out on the information.

“For real?” Mika whispered, her spoon halfway to her mouth. “From Numeros and all?”

“Yeah. Like, family family. Blood related and all that,” Jet added smugly, proud to have the latest scoop.

“Same group with Uno…” Iman whispers to herself.

“No wonder MATA’s on edge,” Roza muttered. “After what happened with having a traitor from the same group… They can’t take any more risks.”

“But what did he actually do?” Moon asked, all too curious about the hottest topic in MATA. “Nueve, I mean. There’s no official charge yet, right? Right?”

“Terrorism, probably,” Khai answered her. “Even if there’s no proof, what else would you call it?”

Ganz needs to speak to Dayang. Usually, he would simply ask her point-blank, but not this time. The topic that he wanted to discuss with her required delicacy, and most importantly, privacy. And so, her office it is.

And that’s why he stepped into Dayang’s office, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He looks for the Techno Pillar among her mountains of projects, aware that she’s likely had her hands full with tech or paperwork.

“Ganz.” Dayang, as he predicted, is busy with work. Eyes locked to the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard like she was racing a deadline. Yet still able to deduce who entered her office without lifting an eye.

“It’s just the two of us,” Ganz said, stepping further inside and walking straight to the guest chair. “Nothing burning.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You’re busy,” Ganz remarked dryly. “Too busy.”

Dayang didn’t look up. “These reports do not write themselves, Ganz.”

“I need to talk to you.”

She paused for a second, then resumed typing. “Then talk.”

All right then.

“It’s about Nueve.” Ganz folded his arms.

That got her attention. Dayang’s hands stilled, and she finally turned to face him.

“You’re being too soft on him, Dayang.” Ganz said up from his seat, eyes on his fellow pillar.

Dayang didn’t flinch. Her shoulders sagged slightly. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I’ve been too soft.”

Her voice caught as she looked at the array of screens. “I have failed a child.”

Ganz frowned. “He’s a terrorist. Not a child.”

“He is Aliya’s child,” Dayang shook her head. “Her only son.”

Dayang said. “Aliya was beloved. We admired her strength, her compassion, and we never imagined her son would turn like this.”

Her thoughts all spilled out as if Dayang had been holding them in for far too long. Perhaps she had done so.

“She trusted us,” Dayang went on. “Trusted MATA to protect her family. And we failed. He was a child when she died. And we left them behind.”

Her voice sounded defeated. “Now to find out he’s become a terror threat… It hurts. Not just me but to everyone who knew her.”

Her gaze met Ganz’s. “You feel it too. Don’t you?”

“I do.” Ganz turned to the closest monitor. “We all do. We all feel it.”

He paused, letting it sink in. “MATA relies on us to be fair. To be a reliable leader for them.” Ganz placed a hand on the table. “We don’t get the luxury to fall under all that burden. Not you. Not me. Not Zain.”

Before Dayang could reply, a sudden alert flashed across the screen.

Both agents turned to the screen. A new notification had just came in.

Dayang drew in a breath, composing herself. “Dato’ is here.”

Ganz nodded.

They both left Dayang’s office together. To the guest area Dato’ Othman was assigned. On the way there, the two pillars meet Zain, who will remain unaware of the alteration between Dayang and Ganz.

Nothing is said about the topic anymore.

Unfortunately, the situation with Dato’ Othman is not going well. It appears that he has already heard a word of Nueve’s capture. And now demanding that the Numeros be made an example.

The tension in the room was thick. None of the pillars is open to the idea. And it is not hard for them to guess out why.

The boy has possible ties to strings of whistle-blowers in Cyberaya and is probably the one who did it, and their sponsor; no doubt has his own skeletons - MATA not included - wanted nothing more than to have the movement taken down.

“I cannot allow this to spiral!” Dato’ Othman’s harsh tone bounced off the wall, almost shouting in rage. “Nueve represents everything I stand to lose. I funded this organization, and I have the right to protect my investment!”

Zain leaned forward, steady and unwavering. “With all due respect... We have yet to be able to convict him of anything.”

“I can,” Dato’ Othman hissed. “And I will.”

A sharp voice cut through the tension. Ganz, always straightforward, boomed in anger. “Dato’, what kind of message does it send to our agents if a guard can become the enemy? We ended up like a clown if this continues on.”

“Then be a clown!” Othman’s face was tight, frustration etched in every line. “You really want to defend this enemy?”

“If we need to,” Dayang spoke up. She had kept her quiet for far too long. “Yes”

It looks like they will have another cut in their budget.

6 Avicenna had just finished their science class. And now they are returning to their classroom from the science lab. As they walk along the corridor, Victor chats with Khai.

Viktor accidentally took a look at Khai’s game console and blinked. “Wait. Is your username Mosatco_Man?”

“Aa..Yees…?” Khai replies, cautious of where this topic is leading up. He holds his tech close as if Viktor wants to take it out of his hand for a closer look, which is very dangerous because Khai is actually updating his mission log and pulls up a random tab when Viktor leans in and accidentally sees his screen. One that happens to display his username.

“Oh, wow.” Viktor grins widely. “Online buddy! You’re Mosatco_Man!? We teamed up so many times, bro! Who knew we’d meet this way!”

Viktor was too excited that he was practically bouncing. “Remember that ambush on Starbridge? You got my back when I got pinned down. That move is sick!”

Viktor grins. “Honestly, I thought you were like, some retired engineer. Or a middle-aged programmer or something.”

“I get that a lot.” Khai's answer to that is vague. It’s true, he did get that a lot. Often got a double-take from his irl mutuals when they realized he is not even a middle-schooler. Not that it happens often as MATA cadets and all, but still.

It was the next sentence that stopped them cold.

Viktor laughed. “And you built that drone system, right? That custom mod for PvP surveillance? Ali wouldn’t shut up about it! He kept saying, ‘Mosatco_Man is cracked; your brain should be insured.’”

“Wait!” Khai’s smile froze mid-twitch. “Ali said that?”

Rudy, who discreetly watches Viktor from the second floor, sits still. Fingers hovering over his MATA-issued smartphone.

“Ali is going to be sooo jealous.” Viktor crowed, totally oblivious to the chaos he made. “He's obsessed with your tech; have been going on about your invention for days back then. He even tried to reverse-engineer part of it for a SIM module. Turns out, I’m the one who met you first.” He did a little victory dance, unaware that Alicia and Khai left behind.

Khai stops breathing, he turns into a great imitation of a statue.

Alicia and Khai look at each other. Both eyes are full of horror.

MATA had an agency-wide emergency meeting that evening. Everyone there restless; it seemed that news had already spread.

Technos and Neuros could be seen flipping through online screens like men possessed.

New round of interrogation reveals nothing. No confessions. Only self-satisfied victory and a few muffled laughs.

He seems to be on a joke that MATA remains oblivious to.

After Viktor casually revealed that he and Nueve are virtual friends with Young Agent Khai, every MATA Agent is ordered to check their online profile. To see if they too had encountered Nueve.

Digital footprints.

Usernames.

Friend lists.

The situation only got worse.

Online forums. Games. Memes. Data drops. Disguised chatrooms.

Cadet Khai, Cadet Mica, Agent Fit, and Cadet Moon had all been flagged. It's not even a day yet. They all have a feeling that more accounts will be flagged soon.

“Look at the timestamp.” Agent Geetha murmured, her eyes fixed on the screens. “These have been going on for years.”

Alicia bit back a curse.

Years.

Before Cinco transferred to General Rama’s division. Before MATA was even aware that there are such things like Numeros.

How deep have these been going on, Ali?

Alicia took a look at Young Agents, especially the one who was flagged. All huddled close at a corner and still in disbelief, like the floor had vanished under their feet.

Cadet Moon’s skin turns pale, nearly fading into her uniform. Cadet Mica sat with her arms folded tight across her chest, as if that would stop her from doing untold rampage.

And what about Agent Fit?

Apparently, he and Nueve had been sending memes and shitposting to each other about screwdrivers and ‘hardware superiority’ in a private message thread. Bobby had skimmed the logs and refused to make eye contact since.

And the less Alicia thinks about it, less sleep she would lose.

As if this couldn’t get any worse?

A red light, another agent flagged.

Geetha leaned forward.

It’s Agent Rizwan.

Chapter Text

It is late at night. Bakar wandering out, aimless.

He had just returned from looking after the Pinggiran people. His effort doesn’t give much result, not like he expected much in the first place.

All he has in his mind was a mess of guilt, confusion, and anger. Ali. His Ali. His nephew.

Nueve.

Bakar stopped walking. He stared blankly at the chipped wall of a closed shop, his own reflection barely visible in the smeared glass of the window.

Suddenly, he’s chock full of anger.

With a growl, Bakar kicked a trash can hard, sending it skidding a few feet and clanging into a wall. A few stray bottles rolled out with a noisy clatter. Bakar didn’t stop there, it’s not enough. He ripped off his red cap, crumpled it in his fist and threw it to the ground.

“ARRRGH!!” He shouted to the night sky, daring himself to go all out. It is raw, guttural, and frustration. Full of pain.

“IS EVERYTHING NOT ENOUGH!!!”

The cry echoed through the night, impossible not to be heard by now. But who cares about that?

“HOW!" Stomp!

Glass bottles smash under his boot. "MANY!!"

"MORE!!!” He kick away a can.

"I-" Bakar's voice broke this time, catching on the last word, and he staggered a step backward like it physically hurt to say it.

The trash can now lie dented and forgotten at the end of the street, its contents spilled across the pavement in chaotic testament to his fury. His red cap lay crumpled on the ground. He stared at it, at the dirt staining it, and something inside him just- cracked.

Whywhywhywhywhwyhywh-

“That poor cap.”

Bakar startled at the unexpected voice, he turned to see that his grief have an audience.

It is an old lady has been watching him from the opposite side of the road.

Bakar stiffened, shame creeping up the back of his neck. He didn’t realize that he had an audience.

“Auntie.- I-” Bakar tried to apologise.

“That’s a lot of grief there.” She hobbled close, her underarm walking stick making a soft tap tap. “Want some tea?”

“My place is not far away.” The old lady said.

“I-”

“You don’t have to explain, dear,” She added, waving off his fumbling attempt to speak. “Call me Mak Yah.”

Bakar blinked.

“Come,” Mak Yah offered. “You look like you need something warm. Food too.”

Bakar want to opened his mouth to brush her off, tell her he was fine, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Instead, he just follows along, exhausted. Bakar hesitated, then lowered his gaze to the cap still lying on the road. He picked it up slowly, brushing it off.

True to her word, her residence is not far. Mak Yah likely overheard Bakar from her house.

It is a small house. Small and cozy. Obviously built with care. Bakar and Mak Yah sit outside under the soft light of the porch. A tray of tea between them.

Mak Yah poured the tea with practiced hands, the cups old but clean, rimmed in faded blue. She passed one to Bakar, who took it with both hands, feeling the warmth bleed into his palms.

“…Thank you,” he mumbled.

Bakar could only stare at his cup.

In Numeros hideout.

Cinco is currently outfitting Uno’s helmet with IRIS. Soon they will attack MATA Academy.

Rizwan watched their preparation from the upstairs railing. Completely hidden from their sight. He quickly slipped away before they noticed him lurking around.

Trez is lumbering down the corner. Rizwan reacted on instinct, ducking into the nearest room before he was seen.

The door clicked softly shut behind him.

Rizwan looked around.

A trashed lab.

Nueve’s lab, left before Rizwan could sketch him out. The kid who pretty much fooled the entirety of MATA, him included. Rizwan doesn’t bother with investigating his workroom; everything in there is already trashed by his teacher in his fit of rage.

Talking about his teacher…

Rizwan sighed.

None of his plans has worked. Dji- Uno is stubborn. At this rate, all his efforts will fail.

In frustration, Rizwan dropped onto an armchair. Glad that it did not broke down on him. He leaned his head back, eyes to the ceiling.

And his eye caught something.

A slight discoloration on the ceiling, perfectly seen from where he sit. Far enough that Rizwan needs to balance himself on the chair to reach it. He gingerly reached out with his arm, careful not to make any noise.

Rizwan's fingertip brushed off the ceiling; tracing any edges he could feel, before peeling off a semi-transparent paper tape – big enough to cover his midriff - and with it an envelope. Rizwan could see it now how Uno could not notice it. The envelope was of the same colour as the ceiling, and the tape allowed the envelope to blend in with its surrounding.

Completely hidden, especially to someone wearing red-tinted lenses. Uno would never have seen it. And neither, likely, would Cinco.

Rizwan turned the envelope over. No writing on the outside. He tucked it inside his vest. To be caught reading it here would be disastrous for him.

It’s a countdown.

The clock now show 2.20 p.m.

Only ten minutes left until the school bell rings.

Nine.

Pillar Dayang has taken several blood samples from Ali to study. All stored securely in her personal lab to ensure no mishandling or theft.

The lab was empty when the transformation started.

Like disturbed water, the blood rippled out before spreading in concentric circles. Distorting the reflection of the overhead lights and seeping down into the mechanical apparatus they were contained.

They broke down into nanites and flowed into MATA database. Everything took only seconds. No trace of any blood left in the lab.

No one saw it.

Eight.

Dos weaved through the streets of Cyberaya, entering roads at random intervals before ducking into an alleyway. A misdirection, in case she was followed.

The alley stretched, became narrower the deeper she went. Walls full of graffiti, stacked boxes blocking the path, and trash littered on the ground. Not one of the worst places Dos has passed through.

She proceeded to take a left turn, a right, then another right. Not once did Dos open a navigation app or hesitate.

A few more intersections later and Dos stopped in front of a makeshift shelter.

She has arrived.

In her hand, Dos held a small pouch. With a brief glance over her shoulder, she knelt down and gave the pouch a soft shake.

Shake shake shake

The faint rustling of dry kibbles echoed down the alley. She didn’t have to wait long.

Meow

A pair of glowing eyes blinked open from the shadows beneath the tarp, nose twitching. Then another, and another. In seconds, half a dozen cats emerged from various nooks and corners. Eyes on her.

“Perfect.” Dos smile.

Seven.

In one of MATA secure lodging.

Plak

A photograph of Prof Akram's family has fallen face down. Prof Akram swipes away dust with his hand, carefully placing it upright back to its former position on the table. The moment shattered the second he turned around.

Rizwan was there. The missing agent. Sitting on his sofa.

Akram jumped back in shock, nearly upending the photo frame he had just placed. He didn’t realize someone had sneaked in.

“I- What!” He stammered, heart hammering in his chest. “How did you-?”

Rizwan didn’t answer. He pulled out an envelope, already opened.

His eye unreadable. “Tell me everything.”

Six.

Students of SRK Cyberaya 1 milling about the school corridor in their co-curricular uniforms. Playing around and having fun, with laughter and after-school chatters filled the air.

In the middle of all this noise and color, no one pay attention to Room 52.

More importantly, not one person noticed light flickering under the door gap of room 52, the shed that has long since turned into school storage.

The secret passage to MATA Academy opened wide.

No one is in the storeroom.

The store is empty.

Five.

Nanites are an interesting piece of technology.

Hard to control, but the boost make all the pain worth it.

Nanites could be farmed and multiplied even in less than ideal environments, as long as they were cared for properly; like cultured yeast. And similar to cultured yeast, nanites require sustenance to feed.

Sustenance with properties and physical characteristics that nanites will imitate once devoured. Such as fine and durable threads that are woven together to make a glove, eaten and become a cloud of microdust.

And attach themselves to any surface area, unseen.

Unknown to Zain, the microdust which are now embedded in his uniform. Slipped between the folds and seams. Completely untraceable to MATA.

Four.

“Wow…”

People on the street paused, all but forgotten what they were doing before, conversations turned quiet as something unusual unfolded before their very eyes.

“Is this a prank?”

One by one, heads turned and fingers pointed. A few quick thinkers reached out for their phones and hit the record button.

No one knows for sure if what they were seeing was some kind of staged performance or just one of Cyberaya’s weirder days.

Why?

Because a line of cats had just marched past them. Paws padding softly against tarred road and tile. One after another, down the traffic and across the streets, ignoring startled humans who jumped out of the way or stood frozen, phones raised in disbelief.

At the front, Comot kept a steady pace, occasionally glancing over to make sure the group held tight. IRIS in her mouth, no one notice it.

The rest, everyone notices. The clips will go viral in an hour.

Up ahead, SRT Cyberaya 1 looms into view.

Three.

At school.

Viktor stare at his phone in frustration.

He had tried to message Ali. Again.

The message could not be sent. Again.

Two.

Uno stepped on fine sand. Where MATA Academy is located.

His time has come.

One.

Kkrrriiinggg!!!

The school bell rang.

The scent of the sea is strong. Sound of waves too. Zain is aware that MATA Academy is located on a secure island. But this is too much.

Zain groaned. Feeling ache all over his body. Shift a little to get a better and comfortable resting position.

Ah, much better.

“Hey.”

Zain jolted awake. Immediately regretted it when his wound screamed.

Owowow!

He slowly sits up from the floor, one hand covering his wounded side, the place where Djin or perhaps Uno now - has stabbed him.

Only to find out the wound is already dressed.

Who?

Stray wind from the open window brought Zain a lungful of salted air.

He was on a boat. A yacht, judging by the subtle hum of engines and the gentle sway of the deck.

Zin took a moment to assess himself. He is alright… aside from his stab wound and banged-up uniform. His weapon with him too, on the floor.

A soft purr beside him drew his attention. A cat sits on a dressing table. Calmly grooming herself, tail swaying lazily to the boat’s rhythm.

Cat?

Zain staggered to his feet, crouching down to stroke her fur. The tabby purred louder, obviously enjoying the treatment from the Neuro Pillar.

But Zain couldn’t stay there long. He exhaled, armed himself up, straightened up with effort, and limped toward the door. Whoever had patched him up, fed him, and brought him here hadn’t exactly left a note.

Then he went outside to look for the person steering the yacht.

He makes multiple rounds. In case whoever helped him deliberately doing hide and seek with Zain. By the fourth round, Zain had to concede that he is the only human on the yacht. No one else is there.

Zain leaned against the railing, tired from his impromptu exercise. His gaze drifted across the deck… to the sheer number of cats that was impossible to ignore.

They were everywhere. Lazing on the floor. Curled up in boxes. Sunning themselves along the railings.

One particularly round orange cat stretched luxuriously on the tarp, yawned wide enough to show all its teeth, and sneezed. Another one, sleek and white, stood proudly like a sentry at the helm chair, blinking slowly at Zain as if judging his every movement.

What with all these cats?

He went back to the helm, several cats trailed after him. One jump onto his shoulder and lick his ear.

There is a covered plate there, Zain ignored it at first. The cat who sits on the chair meows at him.

She meows again at Zain when he ignores the plate. Her demand is clear.

This time, Zain opened it.

As an active agent, food is the last thing that he would expect to find inside a covered-up dish.

Then, imagine his surprise when there is indeed food.

And not the only thing too. There is also an active beacon. And a burner phone.

Zain found himself surrounded by Agents. Rescue came fast once he used the burner phone.

And now he is in MATA medical wing. Checked all over by doctors.

The young agents are there too. Ganz picked them along on his way to rescue Zain. All stick to him like Velcro.

“Sir!” “You live!”

“The beam!”

“The protocol!” Khai blubbers.

Ah… young people

Zain let their concern wash over him.

“We thought we heard a ghost when we picked up your voice!” Ganz couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the memory of the chaos that followed Zain’s call. “A miracle!”

Zain basks through their relief and amazement. He offered a small, tired smile, though he was still under strict medical attention. The azurium poisoning is no joke.

Hours passed by.

Young Agents ushered out by Agent Geetha. Allowing doctors to change his bandages and let him rest.

With peace once again attained, it doesn’t take long for Zain to be lulled to a light doze. Not even a day had ended and already too much had happened. The pillar absent-mindedly wondered how he lived through that satellite beam. Still in the dark as to who saved him from his demise.

He did not expect to receive an answer from an unexpected source.

“Comot?”

Zain jolted awake once again, to find Alicia staring at the white cat, the one sitting at the helm back then. The cat that apparently took her job guarding him seriously. Up to sneaking into the hospital ward he is in.

Zain asked. “You recognize this cat?”

“Ali’s Vlog.” Alicia deflected. She held her hand out, allowing Comot to sniff it. “Comot is his cat.”

Understanding that Alicia is introducing her, Comot meows at Zain, raising a paw up for greeting.

Zain stared at the cat. “…Nueve.”

“If this is indeed his cat-” Zain interrupted before he was able to finish his sentence.

“Got news from Dayang.” Ganz came over to them, serious. “Nueve’s cell is empty.”

Comot lick her paw, unconcerned by the chaos around her.

Chapter Text

MATA soon found out that the cats have powers after one of them do the invisibility trick to follow an agent on a mission.

How?

One of the cats gets caught in a bodycam recording. Staring at it.

A test led by Pillar Dayang shows that the orange cat – the one that got caught, of course it has to be the orange one – now nicknamed Oyen, has biological enhancement. Further test shows that all of them have the enhancement.

An Immediate alert went out for all field agents to check if they too have a silent passenger.

There is another type of chaos now in the agency.

After much deliberation, MATA ended up taking the cats in. They can’t let loose biomodified felines in the city after all.

Who knew what would happen if they do that.

The cats quickly adapted to life within the specially constructed enclosure MATA had built. A climate-controlled space filled with trees, climbing zones, sun lamps, toys, and an endless loop of soft music someone - Ganz - insisted they needed to “develop proper emotional range.”

The cats thrived there. Sleek coats, healthy, extremely well-socialized with MATA personnel. Some agents even found the felines presence oddly calming, though none would admit to forming attachments. Officially.

All cats happy there…

Except Comot.

Comot wanted no part of the enclosure.

From the very first night, the cat made her disdain clear. She’d slipped past locked gates, climbed out of vent shafts, and somehow evaded four separate biometric door locks. Each time they returned her, she escaped again.

To who? Alicia.

The cat followed her everywhere. Training floors. Debriefings. Missions. Once, even into a secure lab, where she casually perched herself atop a high-spec tech and refused to move until Technos bribed her with fish.

Comot had a knack for finding Alicia no matter where she was. In classes, she’d curl in Viktor - the flower pot - eyes half-lidded and invisible. During mission prep, she’d sit beside Alicia, grooming her fur like nobody business.

Field ops were no exception. Comot had somehow tagged along with Alicia on at least three missions.

General Rama hated it.

“It’s a damn cat, not an agent,” he growls while a live feed showed Comot leaping into the back of an extraction vehicle with Alicia.

“Put that cat back into the enclosure!”

Comot of course, ignore him.

No matter how many times General Rama complained, she remained out.

Sometimes, Comot even perched on the desk during briefings, tail flicking around and staring at him like he was the one out of place.

And then he found that damn cat in his house.

“DEY!!!”

“Did you hear that?” Sarsi looked out from the classroom.

“Hear what?” Viktor asked Sarsi. He didn’t hear anything.

“I think I heard something.” Sarsi massaged his ear in case it would help his hearing.

He tried to listen again.

Nothing.

“Oh well.” Sarsi shrugged.

Chapter Text

The last thing Rizwan expects when entering his own safehouse is to see Ali munching on cereal in the living room.

He expects MATA agents - with shackles - maybe even Numeros; somewhat correct but definitely not this one. As far as Rizwan aware, he and Ali never actually officially met each other aside from that day, which is… a few weeks ago.

Huh?

The boy, not interested at all with his inner turmoil, perched on the couch with the TV’s on; eyes fixed on the morning news. He’s not even paying attention to him when Rizwan came near; Ali clearly didn’t see him as a threat.

This safehouse doesn’t even stock cereal.

“What are you doing here?” Rizwan warily asked. It's not like he can deduce what the boy thinks, given how unpredictable he is.

“Be glad that I make it look like we kidnapped you, and not like…. You went rogue on your own and got it over your head.” Ali responded, not even concerned with the older man blocking the door. “I spend days doing interrogation just from that.”

Rizwan blinks. “Thanks.”

“Trez sent me to Quatro when they attacked Academy under your order.”

“Uh huh.” Ali nods, “By the way, my place got water damage, so I’m crashing on yours.” There is a possibility that the boy lies, but he is already here. Not like Rizwan can throw him out just like that.

Besides, there is something else that got his priority.

Rizwan squinted, then made a beeline for his conspiracy board. His guest is no longer his point of attention.

He examined it with great detail. The board got bigger than when he left for recon, paper and threads spilling out of the board frame onto the bare walls. The boy had adjusted it. More red strings. Pin up scraps of papers with names and details. Politicians, smuggling channels, classified data sold offshore.

Rizwan pull out his phone and took a picture.

“Where is Dos and Trez? Thought they return with you.” Ali commented.

“They got some stuff to deal with.” A cold sweat on his back. Rizwan didn’t realize Ali would know about him taking Dos and Trez out of Numeros.

The boy gave him the driest look.

“Trez out buying dinners.” He lamely answers.

This kid is terrifying

“Dr Ghazali.”

Dr Ghazali jumped, almost shocked out his skin.

He is nervous. He has already been here a few times already, none of them have given him good news. He has a feeling that the trend will not break.

Dayang give him a gentle smile, beckoning him to enter the room.

Inside the room, Bakar; his brother-in-law already seated, he is quiet. She hold out a hand to show him to take a seat; the one beside Bakar. Dr Ghazali nervously sat, he hadn’t been in contact with his jovial brother-in-law since he found out Ali got arrested, and after his wife’s death.

It’s awkward, remind him of doctor’s appointment.

“I have been looking through past recordings with Ali in it.” Dayang in a calm voice, informed Dr Ghazali. She is exceedingly cautious, as if the man is a fawn that will bolt at any loud noise.

“Dr,” Dayang directed a question to Dr Ghazali. “May I know if you hired a driver for Ali to school?” Dayang kindly ask.

“No,” Dr Ghazali deny. “His school provides the transportation.” But as the word came out of his mouth, Dr Ghazali felt a trickle of uneasiness at the back of his neck. As if something is not right.

Beside him, Bakar jolted from his seat.

“Dr Ghazali…” Dayang stopped herself, then restarted her speech. “Mr Ghazali, the school Ali attended did not provide transportation services.”

Ghazali's stomach dropped hearing that. If the school didn’t provide transport services, who has been sending Ali home all this time?

“Cyber Primary School has never provided transportation for its students.” Dayang continued. “While they do have private transportation services, such services are arranged by parents and guardians.”

Ghazali’s turns pale, horrified by the implication. “Impossible.” He shakenly said, “I receive e-mails from his school. Every year.”

“I understand,” Dayang nodded. “Please look at this.”

She shows him a recording on a monitor, there is multiple recordings of Ali walking out of school, to a nondescript car. “This is taken from the main gate of Cyberaya Primary School.”

Ghazali watched the screen in horrified silence. It’s like watching a time-lapse video of his boy growing up.

His little Ali in Year One, with a schoolbag too big, waited by a stranger by the gate. The person who waited on Ali stood in a way that hid their features. They hold Ali’s hand as they walk across the zebra crossing until they both leave the camera range.

Year Two. The stranger didn’t come anymore. The car did. A plain vehicle with tinted windows. Ali got in without hesitation and the car drove off.

And after Year Two, goes Year Three, proceeds to Year Four and Five of Ali walking to the car that he saw earlier. Each year shows the boy’s increase in height, showing the progression of time.

Sometimes, Ali walked beside his friend Viktor Ong, laughing or talking together. Other times, he trailed behind him, or left the gate entirely alone. There were rare occasions when he entered Viktor’s transport, but those moments were brief and never consistent.

And finally to Year Six. There was no car this time. Just Ali gliding out of the school gate on a compact mini scooter. That year video was the shortest compared to others.

"This footage spans over six years,” Dayang said quietly, standing beside the monitor. “The vehicle was never registered to any of the school’s known transport companies. And none of the other children recall seeing Ali take the bus.”

Bakar covered his face with his hand. Not willing to see such damning evidence. Ghazali can hear him crying.

Dayang continues, “There are also situations where Ali pulled out of school early by you. May I assume you are not responsible for that?” At Dayang’s prod, Ghazali shook his head. He never takes his son out early. If Ali’s sick, he will call to inform the school and keep him at home.

“In each instance of Ali taken out early, the guardian logbook is signed by your personal driver, Cero. Did you recognize the name?” Dayang asked.

“I-” Ghazali stammers, “I don’t have a personal driver. I never use one.”

Indeed, despite technically being one of Cyberaya's richest residents, he and Aliya never felt comfortable having a personal driver. Both of them value their privacy and freedom far too much to hire one, and he left the can of worms unopened after her death.

He had thought - naively - that nothing bad would happen because Cyberaya is safe, especially in the neighbourhood where his family resides. But turns out, he was wrong. He was very, very wrong.

Someone has pried open the unnoticed seams in his family and exploited them. Ghazali felt as if all his strength had left him. He has pushed away his boy. In grieving his wife, he has condemned their child to a fate much worse.

What have I done…

Rizwan leaned quietly against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest as he watched Ali.

Rizwan had built a mental profile of the boy before. He had thought he knew what to expect. What he assumes is a kid recruited young, radicalized into following Numeros belief, and then used as a pawn by Uno.

But the real one was something else entirely.

For a child, Ali is awfully busy. Like an adult. Too busy.

The phone calls never stopped. Each time it rang, he flipped it open with practiced ease, never once glancing at the screen. Adults, gangs, crimelords, and all types of people that a kid doesn’t usually have as their contact.

No school kid should have this type of person answering to them in the first place.

Rizwan shifted slightly as Trez entered, tossing a half-torn bag of fried snacks onto the couch. He didn’t interrupt Ali, who is still working. Dos and Trez treat him differently, too.

Rizwan’s gaze lingered on Ali a moment longer.

He realizes early on that Ali is capable of managing them, from financial to repairing support items. This is not the action of a mere grunt? How long has he been doing this?

Who is this Cero who sent the letter?

Rizwan stepped back slightly, the old wooden floor creaking beneath his weight. He turned his face toward the barred window and narrowed his eyes. Outside, he could hear the distant bark of a stray dog and the low rumble of a passing motorcycle.

It unsettled him more than he liked to admit.

Rizwan needs more information. About Ali, about Nueve. About how far his influence went. About why a boy like him ended up at the center of all this.

And he needs them fast.

Alicia realized early on that she had been subtly removed from MATA active agent rooster. Especially after her close connection with Nueve.

Just like Agent Bakar.

Her appa had told her straight that the pillars had removed her from active duty and switched her to reserves. Which means that this decision is above him.

Her duty has basically translated into guarding Viktor from any threats. Viktor, who already has full-time guards on him.

Which also equally means that Alicia had to watch over Young Agents who is the guards. Who prior to this mess, Alicia had never interacted with.

Alicia didn’t protest much. She is tired.

Even having his cat shadowing her everywhere did not help her at all. If anything, it made things worse. The feline refused to leave her side, curling around her ankles, climbing onto her bunk, demanding food and attention without a shred of shame.

Then one evening, as Alicia sat at her study desk, half-heartedly review her schoolwork, Comot suddenly leapt onto the tabletop without warning.

“Comot, careful!” Alicia gasped, reaching out too late.

Comot’s landing knocked a teetering stack of books off Alicia’s desk straight to the floor. Then she had the gall to look shocked, as if the books decided on their own to jump off the table.

Alicia narrowed her eyes at the cat, biting back a sigh as she leaned forward to assess the damage. One of the textbooks had flopped open mid-spread, a paper fluttered loose from between its pages.

A single yellow Post-it note.

Alicia stilled.

She recognized it immediately. It was the one she had quietly peeled off Ali’s back after that stupid prank from Shed and Shaun. Alicia had meant to throw it away. But somehow, she hadn’t.

It had been tucked between the pages of her textbook, forgotten until now.

Alicia frowned and bent down to retrieve it.

Her fingers scrape the edge of the paper. She brushed off the dust, smoothed it flat, and held it in her palm for a long, quiet moment.

Then she placed it back in her book.

Alicia walked home after school, her mind tangled in a thousand and one thoughts. School, homework, lack of missions, MATA cadets. All these stuff bring her headache.

Comot weaved between her steps not helping at all.

So lost in her thought that Alicia didn’t realize that she had walked past someone. That is, until he called out to his cat.

“Comot.”

Alicia jerked her head up. Tracking where the voice came from.

And she finds it.

Leaning casually against the building was Ali.

Alicia froze.

She took in his appearance, dressed in dark greys and black sneakers. He didn’t look unusual at all. Like a schoolboy hanging out.

He looked confident.

“What are you doing here?” ALicia demanded.

Ali didn’t reply to her at once. He’s busy scratching Comot under the chin, the cat closed its eyes in pure delight. She obviously missing her owner.

“Well…” Ali finally spoke, glancing at her with an almost lazy smile. “I’m here to see my cat. Not my fault you came along too.”

Her eyes flicked to Comot, who was now curled against Ali’s legs like a traitorous little loaf of bread. Alicia’s jaw clenched. Comot let out a contented purr, oblivious to the tension pouring out of her.

“But since you’re already here…” he began slowly, tilting his head slightly, “I was wondering…”

Ali extended an open hand toward Alicia, offering. “Would you like to join me?”

Alicia’s breath hitched.

Join him?

To be- Like him?

The world around them seemed to blur, as if the very air had gone still. The noises surrounding them had faded, swallowed by silence. Everything was muted, except for the two of them.

“Y-you-”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Ali took a small step toward her. Alicia didn’t move.

“I understand. How terrifying it is.”

“Let me show you the truth. Show you what real freedom feels like.” Will he? Can he?

Another step. Barely within reach.

“I would not push you if you refuse.”

Ali was close enough now that Alicia could see the faint bruising under his eyes. That tired gaze, she can see hope in it.

How can she see that?

“Come with me,” Ali said again, softer this time. “You don’t have to believe in me. Just… see for yourself. Decide with your own eyes.”

Ali stepped closer to her.

Her fingers trembled.

“Come with me, Alicia.”

Her hand reached out, almost touching Ali’s.

slap

Before slapping his hand away.

“Go die, you bastard,” she snarled.

Ali didn’t even flinch. He tugged his injured hand to himself, rubbing it against his jacket.

Alicia is furious, angry at Ali for daring to lure her away.

She is angrier by the fact that Ali didn’t even look shocked by her refusal. As if he already knew that Alicia would never accept his proposal in the first place.

Ali gave her an apologetic smile and reached down to scoop Comot with one arm. The cat nestled against him, tail curling around his wrist.

“All right.” Ali shrugged before turning away.

Alicia’s shoes scraped hard against the pavement as she rushed forward. “Where are you going!” she snapped. “Hey!”

That’s it.

Alicia sent a jab straight to his rib. Ali dodged that.

Irritation flared. She followed up with a punch aimed at his face. Ali dodged that one too, tilted his head slightly to the side. It missed by mere inches.

That’s when her fury kicked in.

Before long, Alicia found herself giving furious strikes to him. Jab, punch, low sweep, uppercut, thrust. The narrow alley left little room to manoeuvre, but she’ll make do.

Ali blocked it all effortlessly. Sidestep, twist, parry, another sidesteps.

And what drove Alicia mad.

Is that Comot was still in his arm!

Ali didn’t put the cat down! Not once!

He has been blocking her with one arm this whole time. He didn’t even sweat.

Ali didn’t reply. He simply parried another punch. Alicia stumbled forward from her own momentum–

And in a blink, Ali spun her.

Her back hit the cold wall. Azurium blade now resting gently at her throat.

She’s trapped.

Ali leans in close. Alicia could catch his scent with how close they are.

“You…” Ali hissed in her ear. “Are weak.”

Alicia froze, her pulse thundering in her ears.

“Your interfering will bring me nothing but trouble.”

The sharp edge of the blade inches close to her neck. A little closer and…

“Leave us to our business, if you know what’s good for you,” Ali murmured, the tip of Azurium blade nearly grazing Alicia’s skin.

The blade falls down. Making a clanging sound that echoed in the narrow alley.

Alicia’s gaze darted to the fallen weapon.

“If they’re still concerned about Uno…” Ali drawled. “Give this to your Pillars.”

Ali straightened, patted himself to get rid of dust. “They understand what it means.”

And just like that, he stepped away.

Alicia stood frozen for half a beat, the air knocked clean from her lungs. Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest that it drowned out the rest of the world.

Alicia didn’t know if it was rage or panic that clamped down on her lungs, but her body already moved before her mind caught up.

She bolted forward, hand reaching instinctively for her balistique. Her shoes pounded the pavement, kicking up dust as she rounded the corner Ali had just disappeared into-

Empty.

She skidded to a halt. The narrow alley beyond was deserted.

Ali has already gone.

And so is Comot.

Hurried footsteps reached her. Alicia turned just as Agent Karya burst into the alley, followed closely by a squad of young agents.

“Alicia!” Agent Karya called out, rushing to her side. His eyes moved quickly from her expression to the fallen weapon and the signs of a struggle scuffed around them. “You good?”

Alicia looked up at him. Her mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment.

She blinked, swallowing the tight lump in her chest.

“No,” Alicia finally said, her voice flat and brittle. “I’m not good.”

Alicia bent down and picked up the blade from the ground, her fingers curling tightly around the hilt.

“I need to report this to the Pillars,” she muttered, eyes never leaving the space where Ali had disappeared.

Chapter Text

MATA Pillars all sat at the command room after Alicia left.

Dayang spoke first, breaking the hush. “She didn’t take it well.”

No one disagreed with her.

As expected, Alicia did not take well to the revelation that the protection detail on Viktor Ong was also included to her; that all this time, the Young Agents was assigned there to protect Alicia alongside Viktor.

More so to the additional order from the pillars that Alicia should not be alone for the near future.

That’s why the pillar all inform her that this is an order, and did not phrase it as a suggestion. Anything less than an order will be ditched by Alicia.

There, between them all, lay the Azurium Blade. A weapon they knew all too well.

Zain’s gaze drifted to the blade, given to them through Alicia by Nueve. He knew what this mean, his fellow pillars too. He gently picked it up, turning it slowly. Letting light bounce off the surface.

To find out that Nueve is the one who save Zain is not a surprise. They all already have their suspicions.

And yet, what disturbed Zain most wasn’t the meaning behind the blade.

It was that they still didn’t understand why.

They still have no idea why Nueve did what he did. Or his thought process in the first place.

Why Nueve save him?

What did he want?

And then, to this blade. Why did he return the blade?

The weapon which Djinn treasure most, who absolutely loathe to be separated from. Even carrying it with him long after he became Uno and founded the Numeros, despite the weapon being a creation of MATA.

“So it’s true.” Yang leaned forward slightly, her fingers brushing the table. As if considering to reach her hand out to hold it.

Ganz nodded solemnly. “Djinn is gone.”

They weren’t surprised. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

For Nueve to have this with him could only lead to one conclusion. Djinn is dead.

They are glad now, to know the fate of their former pillar instead of not knowing.

And with that knowledge came grief.

Grief not just for a former comrade lost, but also for the memory of who Uno once was. For what he might have been, if that mission had gone differently. What would happen the pillar they once stood with, shoulder to shoulder.

Now that Alicia is in the know, Young Agents took it as a sign that it’s now good to be on friendly term with Alicia.

Did this development make things easier?

She wish.

Why?

Apparently, in the collective imagination of the Young Agents, Ali and Alicia were now officially a thing. Not officially official, but fated.

As if the disastrous bodyguard assignment turn friendship, secret identity, bitter pain of betrayal, and impossible odds that happened between Alicia and Nueve only cemented what they all believed was an epic tale of star-crossed love.

The kind of tragic, high-stakes romance that could only exist between a MATA Agent and a supposed Numeros mastermind.

Or TV dramas.

Nothing Alicia said could change their minds.

Alicia tried. Oh, she tried.

But like air. Everything she said went through one ear, and out through another. Like there is nothing exist between their ears.

How the lot of them survived this long in this field surprise her.

“It’s not like that.” Alicia repeated for what must have been the hundredth time that week. It’s Tuesday.

But the Young Agents simply nodded sagely every time Alicia tried to explain. Grins and giggles show just how little they believed her. Alicia might as well have confessed outright, for all the good her denial did.

And they weren’t even being subtle about it anymore.

“Must be hard,” Roza whispered to Alicia. “Loving someone the world calls an enemy.”

“And the way he asked you to join him!!!” She fake swooned, back of her hand resting on the forehead for extra dramatic moment. “Join me… Alicia. Come with me…”

Alicia nearly faceplant Roza onto a lamppost. Nearly.

To make matters worse, Viktor had no idea what was going on. But even he noticed something was... off.

Viktor squinted as - unknown to him - a Young Agent politely held the classroom door open for Alicia with an overly formal, “After you, Miss Alicia.”

He looked at Alicia, eyebrows raised. “Did I miss something? Did you win an award or something?”

Alicia muttered something under her breath and kept walking inside. Whatever she said, Victor is too far to hear it properly.

Are they… Perhaps…

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are they flirting with you?”

“Neither,” Alicia snapped, pulling out her seat. “They think I’m dating a terrorist.”

“...Oh!” Mia let out a squeal.

Alicia belatedly realized that everyone is already inside the classroom, and they all heard her. Loud and clear.

There is no doubt now that the news will spread all over the school before the class end.

Alicia had never wanted to vanish into the floor more.

“...Should I be worried?” Viktor wondered out aloud.

It do not get better.

Another crisis appears for Alicia.

Family.

The gossip had somehow sprouted out legs, give themselves wings, and fly straight into the ears of her family.

How!

Why!

Her family!

Alicia wanted to scream. Loudly. Into a pillow. Or off a balcony. Or both.

Who’s next? Ali?

Uncle Razman sighed dramatically every time she so much as picked up her phone. Uncle Rahul wouldn’t stop quoting lyrics from tragic love songs in Tamil and then looking at her meaningfully. Uncle Rajeesh just kept muttering “I told you she’s got that rebel phase in her.” and "Our Icha is in that age now."

Her own father – General Rama himself – won’t stop giving her a disappointed ‘you can do better’ look.

And when Alicia finally snapped and asked, “Appa, is something wrong?”

He just looked at her with that expression. That same deeply disappointed, painfully diplomatic face he reserved for politicians that ‘He are not allowed to offend but by god he wishes he can’.

He only uses it on Dato’ Othman!

Why use it on her!!!

“I raised you better,” he said. “That’s all.”

Alicia wanted to crawl into the earth and live there.

At this point, it felt like the entire city of Cyberaya was in on the secret of Alicia’s apparently complicated love life.

“We’re not even a thing!”

Why is her life like this!

As Alicia had her own crisis to deal with, a splinter of Numeros grunt has targeted Viktor due to his close bond with Nueve.

Luckily for Viktor, he has surveillance. Unluckily for Viktor, they are outnumbered.

Luckily for Alicia, more grunts mean more meat shield to beat. Unluckily for the lot of them, Alicia had a grudge to deal with.

How convenient.

Then… A whole different brand of trouble arise.

She just put two down when one of the goon make a dash forward, attempting to put a knife between her ribs – not like it will succeeds, or even come close to her, Alicia is far too good for that – only to fall unconscious.

Why?

Because behind the fallen goon stood Viktor, with a stun pen in hand. Alicia had seen it a few times before, as a fidget toy. Viktor sometimes playing with it when he is bored, never used it before.

Now she know why.

“A ha!” Viktor crowed triumphantly. “I knew there is something going on.”

Alicia thunked her head to the wall.

Why? Why did trouble always involve me?

.

.

.

.

.

“So… Ali is evil?” Viktor asked – again. For the fourth? Fifth? Ninth time? Alicia had lost count.

Alicia nod. This too, she has lost count.

“And now he escapes your Super Secret MATA Prison?”

Alicia give another nod.

“And no one ever find him ever again?” Viktor’s voice shrill with disbelief. If he sounds a little bit excited, well….. Viktor is Ali’s best friend. Surely he can root for him, even if said friend turns out to be an escape mastermind in disguise.

Rudy, crouched beside a tied-up body; riffling for hidden weapons, frowned. “Why did Numeros attack Viktor? Why now?” He wondered. “Something happened there, and we don’t know what.”

“Ali betrayed them, la. What else.” Viktor answer them flippantly. Not concerned at all with the fact that his life nearly in danger a while ago. “My bud is a cold guy like that. He got a line he would never cross. But if you do….. Ali will hold a mask for so long that everyone will forget it. And then Bam!” He makes an exaggerated voice, jazz hands and all. “Big win.”

Noticing the agents paying attention to him. Viktor leaned into it.

“Like that one buddy that made fun of his mom.” He reminisces, eyes distant. “Ali pretended to be chill, playing nice and all. He led him on so so long that no one saw it coming until it's too late. That guy ended up crying like a baby. Wailing in front of everyone.”

“How did you know all this?” Alicia asked, a little stunned by Viktor's insight. How much more did he know?

“Ali is my friend, la.” Viktor smirked, hand held under his chin in a posing gimmick, like a cartoon detective. “We play games together so much that I know how he thinks.”

Alicia stared at him, mouth agape. Viktor knows Ali that well? All this time she faced wall after wall figuring out the real Ali. All this time she nearly tears her head off in frustration only for the answer to be right there?

WITHIN HER OWN CLASSROOM!!!

Alicia’s eye twitched.

She could feel it now. That smug, self-satisfied expression he always wore when things went his way. It was practically burned into her imagination, taunting her from whatever hidden corner of her brain he’d ducked into this time.

She clenched her fists, as if Ali standing right in front of her ready to be punched. “Unbelievable...” she muttered under her breath.

Viktor, still oblivious to the storm brewing beside Alicia, just grinned wider at her. “Just like Ali. Amiright?”

Before Alicia could respond, Viktor pressed on, curiosity plain in his voice.

“Wait,” He asked, tilting his head. “So all this talk about the terrorist boyfriend at school – is that really about Ali?”

Before Alicia could even open her mouth to deny it, Rudy jumped in.

“Who else?” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Alicia just about to say to Viktor ‘no, it is not’ and maybe a little quic- When she was interrupted.

“Bring him in.” General’s voice cracked on their com. He has heard everything.

Viktor’s grin faltered just a bit. “Wait. Bring who in?”

Chapter Text

Cinco is annoyed.

Especially when she thought about the boy.

How Uno simply came in one day with a child shadowing after him, rambling about a late agent's child. And his use for Uno’s plan. All too smug to even question himself if it is indeed true that he actually got the right person.

Not that Cinco believed much in the first place. After all, the identity of agent’s relations is often kept secret by MATA for their own protection, sometimes from the very family itself. Maybe Uno just picks a kid off the streets and claims it as one of theirs.

Or maybe Uno just missed being a teacher?

Cinco for one, had always assumed the boy – whom Uno soon named Nueve – was nothing but a pawn. Cinco had planned to leave the boy dry. What use is a sniveling, emotional boy to her? At best, he was another pawn, someone to discard once he served a temporary purpose.

But now, with the revelation that Ali is a student of Cero himself, everything shifts.

She of all people should have known how dangerous a person should be to catch Cero’s attention, let alone to retain it. Now that she thinks of it, had the boy perhaps planted the idea by himself? Using Uno as an entry into Numeros organization?

Now, all of the boy's actions, the ones she had previously dismissed as reckless or foolish, take on new weight in a completely different light.

And he did it all under her nose.

Her nails dig into her palm.

The redhead decided.

The boy has to go.

She hates competition.

Bakar is the one who saw Viktor first. Already aware of who Viktor is – and his relationship with his nephew – despite never meeting each other; first as a victim's relations, to a possible suspect, and now as a prime lead.

And Bakar is not the only one, either.

The news that MATA brought in Viktor Ong and that they might have new intel already buzzed through HQ. Agents gave the boy discreet glances, not wanting to be left out of any tea.

And then Bakar gets another surprise when the boy greets him.

“You’re Ali's uncle, right? Mister Bakar?”

“Oh, yes I am.” Bakar grins, a little off-guard that his nephew’s friend knows him, but he rolls with it as he always does. Then he grew puzzled. “But how did you know that?”

“There is a picture of you when Ali’s small.” Viktor answered in a sing-song tone, hands clasped behind his back like reciting trivia. Or perhaps multiples.

“Oh…” His grins dims at the answer.

“You know.” Bakar said, trying to shift the mood. “Your intel helps us a lot. If we knew, we would have brought you in earlier.”

“Well, better late than never.” Viktor shrugged. “Not sure it will help much, though.”

“I have to apologise, on behalf of MATA, for forcing you to tell on Ali.” Bakar feel guilty, for putting Viktor in this position. Ali is dangerous, all this time Viktor is spared; now Bakar not sure.

Viktor paused, stare a little at Bakar. Then shrugged.

“Nah….. Pretty sure Ali knows about it already.” Viktor wiggles his shoulder a bit like it’s a no big deal, not worried at all by the implied danger to himself.

Then he added, almost cheerfully. “By the way, you're apologizing to me is like biiig point for Ali.”

That threw Bakar off.

What? Why?

Viktor, either reading his confusion or simply continuing on instinct, didn’t skip a beat.

“Not many care to say sorry you know, especially to kids.”

“’Cause Ali is smol-” Viktor raised his hand and pinched his thumb and index finger close together, “-like this smol.”

“So they think Ali is way younger than he is – like nine or something – and they thought that they didn’t have to, cause it didn’t matter to them if they mess up; to adults, kids will just forget all about it and all will be well.”

Bakar watched the impromptu lecture, entranced. He is not the only one. Some of the agents walk more slowly around them, and a few is milling around within earshot.

Here, Viktor’s voice grows softer. “But no one actually realizes that giving kids decency, like apology means more to them. To us..” He paused before continuing. “It’s like acknowledging that were are real, you know. That our opinions matter.”

“You know him real good.” Bakar exhaled, more tired than ever. Then, in a quieter voice. “Not like me, his own uncle.”

“I can’t say that.” Viktor comfort Bakar. “Ali got his own secrets, same with me, although not as big as my-bestie-is-a-villain-secret. But it's there.”

Bakar coughed.

“Hold up- Wait!” Viktor stopped talking and immediately patted his pockets, looking for tissues he had stashed there earlier that day. “I’ve got tissues!”

He pulled out a small packet of crumpled tissues and offered it to Bakar with both hands like a sacred relic.

Bakar accepted it with a soft chuckle. “Thanks.”

“Come on.” Bakar changed the subject. “All this talk, no food. Let me show you where to find the cafeteria.”

“So that’s why the teachers all fixed on group arrangement that day..” Viktor gaped at Alicia.

“That’s right.” Alicia sighed.

Viktor had spent hours being questioned, debriefed, and mildly interrogated at MATA HQ. By the time General Rama finally dismissed him, the sun had dipped low behind the skyline, and the streets of Cyberaya were already bathed in the soft glow of evening.

Out of having nothing to do – and maybe out of quiet concern – Alicia had volunteered to walk Viktor home.

On the way to Viktor’s house, the two of them talked. Somehow, that turned into Alicia revealing to Viktor about her bodyguard assignment disaster.

They turned a corner toward Viktor’s neighborhood. The air smelled faintly of grass and engine oil. Streetlamps lit up in the distance. They passed the local playground, now empty and quiet after the kids all ran home for the evening.

And a few more turns before his house – already cleared of any signs of scuffle and damage – appear in sight.

Alicia planned to leave Viktor on his doorstep and simply walk herself home. But that option taken out of her by none other but Viktor’s mother.

Mrs. Ong burst out of the front door. Her expression was frantic, relieved, and strangely urgent all at once. Openly relieved that her son is here.

“Viktor!” Mrs. Ong called out, rushing to him as though she hadn’t seen him in months. She appears to have been waiting for her son’s return for a while now. “Thank god. You’re safe.”

“Mama?” Viktor blinked, startled. “What’s wrong?”

They both descend into rapid-fire Cantonese, too fast for Alicia to decipher. Both seemed to be more agitated the more they talked.

Something was off.

“Viktor.” She held Viktor’s shoulder, staring deep into his eyes. Her voice was almost a whisper now. “Did you know this?”

“Know what, mama?”

Behind them, Alicia’s pager buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, but didn’t look down. Her eyes still on them both.

“Your friend.” Mrs. Ong’s face is pale, very pale.

Alicia had a bad feeling about this.

“Ali is on TV.”

“BREAKING NEWS: LEAKED VIDEO SPARKS GLOBAL OUTCRY OVER CHILD SOLDIER TRAINING – DEVELOPING STORY.”

“…in a breaking development this evening, a disturbing video has surfaced online, reportedly showing an underage individual undergoing extreme combat training in what experts believe to be a militarized camp. The footage, believed to be several years old, shows performance of advanced manoeuvres under the instruction of unidentified adults.”

“-international watchdogs have raised concern over what they describe as ‘clear signs of child soldier grooming and psychological conditioning.’ The facility’s location is yet to be confirmed, but early geo-analysis suggests Southeast Asia-”

“-authorities across multiple countries have issued travel advisories in the wake of the leaked video. Intelligence agencies are sharing metadata in an urgent joint investigation focused on locating the facility where the footage originated, as well as identifying the child and adults involved.”

“-UNICEFF has formally demanded a war crimes investigation-”

“-Identity had yet to be identified. Rewards will be promised for more informati-”

“-e’re talking about a systematic grooming program disguised as specialized training. The implications are staggering. If this child – who appears barely 5 or 6 in the footage – was subjected to such conditions, there may be other-”

“- polling data from several nations shows public trust in governmental and educational institutions has plummeted. Social media sentiment analysis reveals a surge in demands for accountability, especially from parents and human rights advocates.”

“-as frustrated netizens hunt for answers and accountability-”

“-uman rights groups have begun mobilizing calls for a full investigation into possible war crimes and systemic abuse. Meanwhile, social media platforms are flooded with speculation and anger as users try to uncover the identity of the boy and those who are responsible for the torture-”

“-with hashtags like #JusticeForTheBoy trending globally-”

“Where is justice when we need it? Why were we told about this through leaked videos?”

.

.

.

“Who is the boy in that video?”

Chapter Text

Trending . Worldwide

Viral Video leak

36k

Child Soldier Training vid

12k

Small kid abuse video leak

17k

Killer Training

5k

Southeast Asia Killer Training

40k

Human rights violation video leak

12k

@Shafuc99
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck this is so messed up.

@Mommygurl
Are we sure thaqt this is like……. real

@Stuupid
@Mommygurl Its real real

@NoYouStupidStupid
Maybe they got more clips and we only got to see this one

@AllRiseDaSquid
ThEy wHO wHaT

@ShadappYouDweeb
Oh God I literally want to vomit.

@88ototot
Whoever had a hand in this is certified EVIL.

@ImHangry
Say that to the FBI, CIA, every damn gov agency keeping this under wraps.

@WatchMeEatHangry
No... there’s no way this is real.

@MasoMaso
Propaganda y’all like we got time to bealieve this shit. Probly influencer props on the making. Days later and we all gonna get one big fat surprise or sumthing

@Y’allBeGone
@MasoMaso Talking Shit…Can’t even spell ‘believe’ right

@MasoMaso
@Y’allBeGoneWanna fight! Mett me at parking lot!

@TooTiredofThisShi_
Are we SURE this isn’t edited or pulled from some film or something?

@Bleh
Or something…

@ItsAllBS2025
Lol FAKE NEWS.

@U_Bitc
Fuck you and your fake ass news

@Goddamit
Goddamit!

A mundane weekday, promising calm til night.

Not.

Why?

Because a van had just shot through the road, slipping between cars with its startled drivers inside and going beyond faster than what was acceptable according to traffic laws.

Honks and curses follow after the van like prayers. Hard not to give one to such vehicle that plays chicken with road accidents like there no other people to play with out there.

And behind the steering wheel, Bakar pressed the gas pedal flat to the ground. The agent's urgency to reach his brother-in-law made him blind to the traffic violations that no doubt piled up like his stress.

Then again, there weren’t that many vehicles on it right now; peak hour had just passed, and the roads were mostly clearing. They are at the golden hour where it is too late for traffic and yet too early for a night out. But still - semantics.

Whether there are many cars or not up here, the difference still won't make him any slower.

Bakar for once would like to beg a leeway for all the tumble he had through these past few months. All rushing in one over another without a single pause.

He still had not gotten over the fact that his nephew is evil. And later on, to find out that his late sister - who Bakar had assumed would never entertain the thought of doing that and oh my god what I’m going to tell her about Ali - apparently had once operated on the other side of the law too.

Turns out, their gene is strong. And life itself has seen fit to pull out the rug right when Bakar thought he had things figured out.

And then came Dr Ghazali, whom Bakar had kept his distance from, a habit that started not long after Aliya’s death. A distance that he kept even after Ghazali found out about MATA, and his involvement in it.

What was he supposed to say about all of that?

What word were there for all of this?

Why did it have to be him who had to saddle all this? Was it any surprise that he took the coward route and hide away? Pretend that there is nothing wrong? Faking things up until the lie itself almost felt real?

He did it once; surely he could do it again.

But that route is not today.

Because as he was just about to do it, Bakar got a call from MATA. And he pushes everything to the backseat of his priority.

Ghazali needs his support. Now more so than ever.

With that, what would normally be a 40-minute drive is shortened to 15.

He entered the residential area with a sharp screech. No doubt the tire leaves an imprint on the ground. Bakar set a brief reminder for himself to erase any footage on the speedtrap.

As the man had expected once he arrived at Dr Ghazali’s house, his car in the porch and his work shoes neat and tidy on the rack.

The man in question is inside, no longer able to uphold himself to his usual ethic after his own son ended up as a whole different person from whom he thought the boy was.

Snippets of conversations from the TV could be heard from where he stood. The panelglass sliding door could not completely block the noise inside from travelling out.

Just beyond the threshold, he froze. The TV ended up being the living room's only source of light, flashes of too-fast light highlighting a person. There, Bakar could somewhat see his brother-in-law sitting slumped on the sofa, eyes stuck to the screen.

“…still unconfirmed, but the footage has already—”
“…social media platforms are struggling to contain…”

He is too late.

Ghazali has already seen the news.

“Is there anything left to discuss?”

The only answer to the query is a barely decipherable mumble too quiet to be heard; anything left of that is from note-taking scribblings and tired silence. One unexpectedly sneezed, but it is not counted as one since it is not phrased as a discussion.

The spokesperson - as with the rest of the meeting attendees - inwardly sighed in relief when no one came forward to raise any issues. “Then let's end this meeting and return to our duties.”

With that, the meeting finally ended.

Everyone inside the room took a moment for themselves to digest everything in before brushing themselves up and sedately walking out. Without a word to each other, they all collectively act as if everything is nice and good, and there is no mountain of work waiting for them right this moment.

One of them is none other than Karya, who left the meeting room along with other teachers, having just wrapped up an emergency school meeting hastily pulled together by the vice principal.

The main reason for the meeting - as Karya had guessed when they first summoned - had been none other than the video. The exposé that had taken over the world like a storm. Revealing a huge weakness pounced on almost in an instant and exploited on an international scale.

Karya truly did not envy those who had to handle the PR. Their workload is certainly much bigger than what he got assigned all combined.

Especially since it wasn’t that hard for anyone to narrow down the nationality, not with the audio still intact; from the language itself, local slang that anyone who stays long enough within the country would catch, and just enough identifiable fragments to make the guessing game short.

And now, the Ministry of Education in all its glory had come knocking. Pressing down on every school in the Peninsula within the child’s estimated age range. They demand results so that the government can be shown doing something, only to avoid public outcry.

For this, teachers were recruited to establish childcare safety programs. Cutting through their already busy schedule to look for the possible child that sits right under their nose.

It is safe for Karya to assume - at least for now - from their disgruntlement over additional work, that none of the teachers were aware of the identity of the child in the leaked video. And not anytime soon by the looks of it.

MATA themselves are not immune to the waves from the leak. There are intels pulled out from the video that concerns the upper up, information that majority of the agents are not privy to. Dozens of personnel are now spending hours at HQ, scrambling for answer on how could this happen within their own turf.

As Karya walked past classrooms, murmurs and hushed whispers lingering around latch to his ears.

Viral news indeed.

Everyone knew about it.

Everyone has their own take on it.

Their own view that they defend with fervour.

And the school - as with the rest of the world - is chock full with rumours.

Rizwan enters the safehouse - walks past Trez and a snoozing Comot in his lap without so much as a glance in their direction - and marches straight to his target, who is flipping through a newspaper at the kitchen. Printed clearly, the leak made front-page news.

Dos is not here, but then, she is not the reason why he’s back here early this morning.

Without hesitation, Rizwan slammed his hand down on the table, jostling the mugs on it and nearly causing one to spill.

Ali - the target in question - didn't even flinch. Slowly lowered the newspaper just enough to peer over the rim.

The boy is calm, Rizwan is not.

“Is it true?” Rizwan gritted, the words grinding out of his throat like a threat barely restrained.

Ali didn’t answer right away. He tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking up to meet Rizwan’s with deliberate patience.

“What is true?” Ali asked back with a bored hum, eyes lazily drifting onto the page. A little fluff piece on the article; one shallow lifestyle feature on some politician’s charity and right beside it is a puff interview with a former idol.

Ali hums appreciatively.

That, apparently, was more interesting to him than Rizwan’s fury.

“You know what the hell I’m talking about,” The once MATA agent snapped.

Ali blinked slowly at Rizwan, like he had all the time in the world.

“Depend.” Then, with an almost theatrical sigh, he raised the newspaper back up in front of his face; effectively dismissing the question and Rizwan in the same motion.

The audacity.

Rizwan’s breath hitched, anger rising hot in his chest. He stepped forward and without a second thought, snatched the paper out of the boy’s hands and flung it across the room. The pages fluttered midair with soft rustle, spinning and collapsing to the floor like fallen leaves. One crumpled page slapped against the wall before drifting down behind a chair.

“The video,” Rizwan snarled. “That. Is it real?”

The boy folded his now free hands on the table, bored and unimpressed at the older man. He looks unbothered, as if he already predicted that this outcome could happen to him.

Has this child lost his mind?

“As I said,” Ali continued on, as unflappable as before. “It depends on what you mean by ‘true.’ But if you’re asking whether the leak was faked, then obviously not.”

He leaned back in his chair, completely composed tip of his fingers idly tapped the table, making a dull tap tap on the wooden surface. He smiled, “I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t real.”

Rizwan stared at him, his heart is beating straight to his ears. He couldn’t tell if he was more stunned by the answer or the boy’s absolute indifference to the weight of what he'd just confirmed.

It was real.

Everything in it was real.

Hands clammy and nerve firing up to the tip of his fingers.

His knee buckled.

Rizwan staggered down onto a chair as if the world pressing down on him, telling him to sit down while he can.

“Who did it?” Rizwan asked through clenched teeth.

“Cinco,” Ali answered flatly. “Next question.”

“Was she there?”

“Maybe. Don’t remember much at that time.”

That vagueness wasn’t comforting. If anything, it made things worse.

He clenched his hand, grip tight that dug deep that it leave marks. Then Rizwan jumped up from the chair like it was on fire and started pacing around.

All the while, Ali only watched. In this timeline, somehow this man ended up just as protective over him despite not having a mentor-mentee relationship or even spending as much time together like back then. How odd.

“And you!” The overprotective meathead snapped his head to Ali, and he didn’t even make an ounce of effort to mask the frustration shown all over his face.

“Aren’t you worried?” Rizwan walk around the table that acts as barrier between himself and the boy, tension radiating from his very frame. “About all of these?”

His hand swept out, gesturing at the newspaper pages still scattered across the floor. “About your life, about friends and family, about people you care about?”

“Nope,” A flippant reply was all Ali gave. “My dad already knew all these when I got arrested that day.”

“People I’m close with are with MATA right now.” He gave a small, humorless smile. “As for the rest... anyone who recognizes me will be handled. MATA won’t risk this turning into a wildfire.”

Ali sat back, calm as ever. “It’s in their best interest to bury my identity. And for the few who already know the truth; they’ll keep quiet. Because if they don’t, it’s only a matter of time before the public figures out that they also trained child soldiers.”

Rizwan was silent for a moment, jaw clenched.

He spat. “You knew Cero.”

Ali snorted, then choked on nothing at Rizwan’s accusation. What started as a cough quickly turned into a near-hysterical laughter that burst out from him like a breaking dam.

For a second, even Ali didn’t recognize it as his own voice. He couldn’t stop it and he’s not even trying. It clawed its way out of his throat, shaking his shoulders, his own chest. There was something unhinged about it - his laugh. Like pressure that had built for far too long that had finally split through the surface.

The boy doubled over slightly, one hand braced on the edge of the table, the other clutching at his side. His ribs ached and his lungs on fire. He never felt more alive than he ever did.

Through this, Ali realizes this was the first emotion he had felt after the crippling shame that came over him when he saw himself in the video. The video that makes him bare to all and his insides shrivel up tight before numbness settles on him like a second skin.

“Knew Cero?”  Ali struggled to take back his breath. “Knew him?”

His voice cracked at the end, laughter giving way to something closer to grief, but that he swallowed down. Now is not the right time.

And then - for the first time since they met in this life - Ali looked at Rizwan straight in the eye. To the very person he once studied from, Ali told him.

“I am Cero’s student.”

"You!" Rizwan's breath hitched at Ali's admission. He stubbornly keeps it in.

One.

Held it tight.

Two.

Three.

Let it out. A harsh rasp that came out near soundless. 

Meanwhile, Ali don't let Rizwan out of his eyesight, patiently waited on his next course of action. A flicker of anticipation rose within as he watch.

Rizwan did not disappoint him.

“I want in.” The man make his demand clear.

Rizwan took a half step forward, squared up his shoulders with resolve. “This is not a request.”

He gave a sharp glare at Ali, as if challenging him to refuse him.

“Suit yourself.” Ali shrugged at his not-request as he gave his go-ahead, not surprised at all by his decisions. He eyes the subtle expression of ease the invisio unconsciously wore when something went according to his want.

Ali sighed as he reached for his mug that had been nearly left forgotten on the side, swirling the coffee inside with a slow circle.

This man never changes, didn’t he?

With a slight tilt of his wrist, he angled the mug just enough to glance down to see how much was left.

Not much.

He should add more.

But that is just an excuse. Because it is not how much of the drink left that Ali looks for.

It’s the dark mirror in the mug, the one that reflected exactly what he didn’t want Rizwan to see.

The utter hatred and loathing that Ali holds for no one but himself.

r/ViralLeak. 2days ago

Top    Newest

Can’t find the vid!

[Description: A video in podcast style – videocast or vodcast – where a host discusses trending issues.]

I try to find the original video, but no such luck. Anyone got the link?

🔺 1.1K upvotes🔻 | 💬 98 comments

User 31 replied…

The original video got taken down. Anyone who tries to repost it on other places has theirs down too.

Can’tdoeit_

I got cut off from the net (Pls dont ask) around 3 days and when I got back everyone goes ham. Why you guys like this?😭

Nogogoreplied…

You not here when the vid got dropped! You miss all the juice.

Spookyonreplied…

For real.

Lololoreplied…

3 days back then a vid got leak on the net. Everyone goes ham over it, cos in it there's like a smol kid Like no joke. Pretty brutal that the video doesn’t get past YouTube screening. At first no one pay attention maybe a fake one you know, but then then the vid got taken down from site. And everyone started  getting questioned over the vid by police. And then some sneaky reporters got wind of it…..

Ballontonreplied…

So…. Not a fake then?

Lololoreplied…

From the reaction…. No.

KaleEatYourVeggie_

So if anyone wondering… There is this leak from who knows where about a video. No one knows where or when this happened, but from audio it looks like from Southeastern of Asia. First guesses said it was AI, or a chopped-up re-edit from a pre-existing clip, but the reaction from gov kind of say no. So now everyone running around for the biggest scoop.

Donttellmewhattodoreplied…

Wanna bet that our dear gov might have a hand I this?

StillWannaDoItreplied…

No bet.

Blegu_Nyom_

I think the first clue that something is off is the international reaction. Those who first watch all think the content is too cruel to be real and dismiss it as fiction. When other countries start asking about the VideoLeak, that’s when everyone realizes that yes, it did happen. The video that everyone thought was fake turned out to be real. The thing is, no one expects this to suddenly hit and end up unprepared for the storm. Then it all went downhill from there.

Read reply

Opasha78_

I was one of the early viewers who watched the original clip before it got taken down. My acquaintance forwarded it to me and I, without thinking pressed play. I wish I hadn’t. I was stunned, frozen while that thing showed me cruelty on top of cruelty.  I stare at the screen for who knows how long because I simply could not comprehend that this type of aggression could exist in real life. It is a recording of brutality at its finest. I want to say that the fact that there is a recording of this travesty is horrifying. And yet, someone did record it. And that, more than anything, is what truly haunts me. That not only did someone carry out this brutality, but they keep evidence of it. The act itself is horrifying, yes but the fact that someone hit ‘record,’ that someone wanted this to exist, that they wanted it seen? That’s the part I can’t forget.

Read reply

Chapter Text

Alicia brings Viktor down to MATA again. This time, to the HQ the proper way. Back then, Viktor’s witness statement was done in an attached MATA safehouse. Close enough to call for reinforcement from HQ, far enough in case he is a mole digging his way in.

Technically, he shouldn’t even be here. Still within the monitoring period, but a drastic event requires drastic measures.

The video leak had caused a not-so-quiet stir that kept MATA Agents busy for the past few days, leaving their field agents severely understaffed. This leaves Viktor, a high-priority target, to be taken along into MATA for his own protection.

Viktor, who for the brief moment is too distracted to think about the leak and his friend, appears to be oblivious to the tension. Looking at everything in amazement. His eyes wouldn’t stop roaming every inch of MATA HQ.

Alicia, on the other hand is quiet. She has seen the video content. As did the rest of the agents. Agents who glance at her differently since it dropped - similar to that day almost a month ago when he was caught - her relationship with Nueve is still fresh to them. No one knew what to say about it, or if it would help with… anything.

Outside the entrance to the meeting hall, Alicia and Viktor stood side by side. The automatic doors slid open and closed repeatedly as agents walked past them. With each person that entered, the hall grew more crowded. Alicia watched on a little tense, apprehensive about what to come up in the meeting.

“Viktor,” Alicia gave a discreet nudge to get his attention. “We need to stay quiet in meeting.”

“Ok.” Viktor gives a thumbs up to Alicia. Try to be reassuring.

Alicia didn’t feel reassured.

In the safehouse.

“Trez,” Ali set aside a thermos on the table. “This one for you, finish it up.”

“Yeah yeah,” Trez grumbled. He walks back into the kitchen to get the thermos. “Be back later.”

The front door closed with a click. Trez’s heavy step grew fainter the further he went. Leaving him alone in the safehouse.

Ali remained standing where he was, eyes locked on the spot where the older man had disappeared a moment ago, his expression unreadable.

The video.

A physiological attack at its finest.

Ali needs to do some damage control.

His allies are doubting him, something that Cinco looks forward to. She probably hopes for the video to hit him emotionally, too. Shame it didn’t work as well as she had expected.

If Cinco expected the leak to unravel him, then she had gravely miscalculated. The damage had already been done by Ali himself years ago. This leak was just a formality for everyone else to catch up to his level. Now all th-

A ring interrupts his thought. Ali smoothly brought it to his ears. Get his emotions under wraps before accepting the call.

“Any reason you called?” Ali drawled. “Need some stuff?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Nikki snaps from the end of her phone, irritation clear from her voice. “We both know why!”

Ali mock laughed at her. “Ha ha.”

“Brat,” Nikki skipped the pleasantries, straight to the whys. “It’s you in the video, isn't it?”

“Who else?” Ali walks out to the balcony. Taking in some fresh air. Comot follows after him, rubbing against his ankles as she trots past, then jumps on the narrow steel railing. Ali put one eye on his cat in case she wanted to jump off; he almost didn’t hear what Nikki said.

“You're taking that tone with me.” Nikki's growl can be heard on the phone. “Don’t forget I know where you sleep.”

“No you don’t.” He leaned against the railing. Comot bumped her head on Ali’s shoulder. He scratched her chin, briefly basking in her purrs.

“I will find out.” Nikki threatens. “Just you wait!”

How nice of her. If this isn’t her brand of caring, Ali wouldn’t know what it is.

“Aunt,” Ali sighed. “Take some of your guys out. I need you to do something for me.”

MATA agency-wide meeting has been going on for hours.

An urgent one that involved even the Pillar Leaders, who appear in holographic form from their office somewhere. Same with a quarter of agents who were unable to attend the meeting at HQ, patched through from satellite branches and secure locations.

“Shouldn’t there be any reliable way to make contact with him?!?!” General Rama - who hosted the meeting - bellowed in anger. He had exhausted all agents available for search, and still did not receive results.

This has been a long ongoing meeting about nothing else but the leak. With the main purpose to gather as many agents at the same time to addressed the issues and redistribute tasks. The thing is, majority of the problems pointed out were linked to Nueve, leaving the meeting patchy and incomplete. Which led to General Rama's earlier burst of anger.

“Why don’t you all just call?”

All heads turned to the person who speak.

Viktor - who was stuck in the meeting with Alicia and had yet to leave because she is his transport home – continued. “Ali’s phone number must be in the record.”

General Rama’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“Here,” Viktor pulled out his smartphone from his pocket. “I can even make the call if you wan-”

“Listen,” General Rama snatched Viktor’s phone from his hand. “This is not some call-and-done.”

“Communication with a highly dangerous enemy is a complex matter.” The neuro aggressively shook the smartphone in front of Viktor’s face. “You can’t just pull out your phone, call Ali and ask him if he’s good?!”

He snaps. “You think that he will just accept it if we do that?!”

“Yes I will,” Ali’s voice came out from the voice speaker. “And why are you using Viktor’s phone?”

Everyone froze.

The Neuro slowly looked down at the screen. A glowing call icon confirmed it; the call had gone through.

The pillars stare at the phone in shock.

Rama stares at the phone in shock.

Everyone stares at the phone in shock.

An agent fainted.

“Automatic call function,” Viktor took the opportunity to explain what happened to Ali, who was still on the phone. “He was holding my phone and called you by accident.”

“Ooh.” Ali's ooh with understanding. 

One of the Pillar Leader - the red one - looked at Viktor with curiosity as he pulled out a mischievous grin.

“Hey Bro,” Viktor tries to goad Ali by guessing his location. “Guess where I am!”

“MATA HQ.” To Viktor's disappointment, his friend already knew. To the agent's apparent horror, he already knew.

Viktor deflated slightly. “Boo. No fair.”

“Oh, I’m hanging up now, bye Vik.”

“Ciao ciao, man.” Viktor said his goodbye as the call ended. He looked up to see everyone's attention on him. “Eh, he…”

“Call trace?” General Rama asked a techno. The now silent phone still in his hand now held at arm's length. He did not want to call more people by accident.

Geetha shook her head. “Bust. The call bounced all over the place.” She flipped the screen to face them, showing ‘pings’ from the earlier call bouncing all over the world map.

Geetha turned to Viktor, “I am surprised that you suggest calling him, or that he picked up in the first place.”

“Ali is my friend, la.” “He replied, as if that would explain everything. “Why can’t I call him?”

A beat passed.

Before everyone could get a word in, he continued. “Besides, why would he refuse my call?”

The rest of the agents all look at Viktor like he is an idiot. A few meters over, Alicia looked at him with pure disbelief.

“Are you telling me…” General Rama’s voice started low, dangerously calm. His hand lowered from holding the phone, fingers tightening around the device like he was contemplating whether to throw it or crush it.

“Are you telling me,” He repeated, stepping forward, “That you have been in contact with NUEVE-”

He exploded into a roar.

“THIS ENTIRE TIME?!”

“Nope.” Viktor denied, with emphasis on ‘p’ and crossed fingers ‘x’ for extra oomph. “I didn’t.”

It is true, he didn’t call or message Ali at all after he knew MATA. Maybe visit his online accounts in case he uploads something new, but that's where Viktor draws the line. It messes things up if he gets caught mixing with wanted people, best friend or not.

“Last time we talked to each other,” Viktor added. “We-”

“Enough!” The Kombat Pillar booms.

Attending agents jumped at the sound; this was the first sound a pillar had made since the meeting started. They almost forgot that their meeting attended by all Pillars, especially since General is the one hosting it. Everyone pretty much expects them to keep their silence until the end.

Apparently not.

“We lose more time as it is.” The pillar reprimand cut through any fuss.

“Take the kid in,” He turned to Rama. “We might get something new.”

The Kombat pillar’s hologram abruptly cut off, effectively leaving the meeting. The other two exchanged no words, following after the blue, they also faded from view.

Hearing that from a pillar, General Rama dispersed the agents crowding the room. “Alright! Back to stations.” And to Viktor, General growl. “You. With me.”

Viktor gulped hearing that.

At Cyberaya water treatment facility.

Trez slips in between the water tanks, taking care not to leave witnesses. He fiddles with one of the facility’s monitors for a moment before moving on to another machine deeper inside; toward the filtration columns, where access was more restricted.

In this one, he crouched near a maintenance panel tucked between two massive filtration columns. Fixing an attachment to the uncovered wires after he peeled the casing off, before putting the casing back on. Placing extra care to put everything back in order.

Once done, Trez started to walk away before stopping. He pulled something out from his jacket and stood near the edge of one of the water treatment pools, a quiet one far from foot traffic.

He twisted the cap off the thermos - the one that Ali had prepared for him - and tilted the contents down the drain. The liquid splashed against the shallow water below, vanishing without a trace.

Trez stood still for a moment after the last drop emptied, letting the thermos hang loosely in his hand.

Bzzz-  Bzzz-

“Yeah,” He swiftly answered the phone call, the device pressed to his ear. “I did what you told me to-” His voice faded out, drowned by the hum of machinery.

Far up on the ceiling, hidden from sight, Rizwan watched Trez's action with suspicion. His eyes narrowed; knuckles whitened as his grip on the ledge tightened.

What the hell was this guy playing at?

Chapter Text

Viktor is now on his first official mission for MATA. Sharp in his brand new uniform.

His very own official first mission, which had turned out to be none other than….To look through Ali’s stuff to find any intel about him.

Like… yeah. Very important, despite not looking so much like one right now. But who is Viktor to say so.

They do ask for Dr Ghazali’s consent first before starting the search.

Originally, General Rama wanted to do a full covert ops; with diversion and stealth and all that secret agents thing that spy movies always do. But Viktor says no to that.

It felt impolite not to do so, with Viktor - and perhaps Alicia? - being Ali’s friend and Bakar, who happens to be Dr Ghazali's brother-in-law. Especially since Dr Ghazali already knew about MATA.

Feels a little too much like breaking and entering just to clean a relative's house.

Dr Ghazali may have looked at Viktor a little too long when he saw him suited up in MATA Neuro. Thankfully, he gives his permission without asking any questions.

They quickly do their thing.

Viktor and Alicia search the inside of the house while Bakar picks the outside. Dr Ghazali stays in the living room, doing his best not to interrupt their search. He is awkward like that.

Of course, it will be a matter of time until they're done with the rest of the house and on to the next challenge; Ali’s room. The main reason why Bakar chose to search outside.

When Alicia opened Ali’s room, the first thing she noticed was how organized it was. Viktor leaned in from behind. “Whoa... This place looks like a showroom.”

“Uncle must have cleaned it a lot.” He noted.

Viktor is right; the room is pristine, and there is not a speck of dust. Obviously cleaned regularly by Dr Ghazali.

If only it didn’t make their job much more difficult.

Alicia and Viktor both look at each other before simultaneously nod at each other. They get to work.

Alicia did her job meticulously and with extreme caution, as if there were any surprise books stashed between his shirts. And also a bit of embarrassment; this is after all, a boy’s room.

Viktor did his search with nonchalance. He has been here too many times that it is impossible not to know his way here. He ducked by the shelves, scanned under the bed, opened one drawer then leaned down to check under a stack of comics.

Viktor’s off-key whistling stopped when he saw something from the shelves.

“Alicia! Look at this,” Viktor hollers at Alicia, holding the aforementioned item above his head. “It’s Detective Jebat: Uprising!”

“Viktor! Focus on mission!” Alicia, currently riffling through Ali’s study desk, hissed.

“I am,” Viktor insists. “This is still in packaging too!”

"Viktor!" Alicia shouted-whispered at him, mindful of Dr Ghazali who might be listening on them. "You are an agent now, this is not the time to play!"

At Alicia's furious face, Viktor explained. “This is our clue! We need to bring this back to HQ.”

“How do you know?” Alicia snarked back.

“Oh easy!” He beamed, holding out a finger. “One. I already played the game with Ali months ago. Why would he buy a new game when he still has the same one in the living room?”

Alicia’s anger halted hearing that. Viktor is right, they did search the living room before coming up here. And Alicia did see the exact same game neatly arranged downstairs.

Viktor put out another finger. “Two, this is the exact same pack Ali bought when he met that redhead evil lady that day.”

Third finger. “And finally, the outer wrapping this game has is different. It’s been tampered with.” Viktor held out the game straight to her face for Alicia to see. “Even the texture is off.”

She squinted her eyes at the plastic covering; the wrapping doesn’t look like it’s made by hand. But Viktor is the professional here, so she must trust him.

Vats of bubbling liquid arranged neatly at the corner of her lab.

A smaller sample in a small glass beaker on the table. No burner under the beaker, somehow the liquid inside still agitated.

Cinco picks up a pair of tweezers from her table. Picked up a slab of meat from a Styrofoam container bought from a generic grocery store with the tweezers. Then she slowly dip the edge of the meat into the beaker.

The result is immediate.

The meat spasmed; starting from the dipped part, then twitched it way up. Within minutes, every part is moving.

She pull the tweezers back up, no droplets drip back into the beaker. The liquid clings, holding tight to the crevices, then spread thin upward onto the slice.

Cinco carefully set the meat aside in a tray, arranging it neatly alongside an identical row of cut meat. All of which is still shuddering.

Behind the redhead, the massive screen shows the map of Cyberaya. A few markers on select location blinks.

The vats continue to bubble.

Cinco hummed happily.

The three of them returned to the agency that evening with the game pack in hand, amongst other items that might contain clues. It was handed off to Geetha, who oversees the analyst team.

As Viktor said, the game disc was just a shell. Opened and resealed to prevent suspicions. Hidden inside the casing was a storage drive, packed with files, files, and more files.

It’s the content inside the files that turns them cold.

Classified data of MATA Agency. Agents and their identity. MATA-affiliated buildings, still operating and dormant.

“How did he get his hand on these?” Dayang breathed. “Some of this information is too specific.”

“There might be moles in here that answer to Nueve.” General Rama stares hard at the screen. “High-ranking ones by the information here.”

Alicia jerked her head up, eyes locking onto her father in disbelief. She didn’t know which surprised her more, that her same-aged classmate was able to infiltrate MATA this deep, or that he was able to gain loyalty from high-ranking agents to be able to acquire this type of intel.

She quickly turned her attention back to the screen, watching with growing horror as classified intel flowed out and out without any sign of stopping. How many agents are in Ali’s grasp to be able to have this much?

What took the cake is a schematic of a type of microbug. More specifically, one used by Cinco to keep track of and control her allies and enemies.

A list scrolled down one of the monitors, revealing the identities of MATA agents and Numeros infected with microbugs.

Alicia was able to glimpse her name on the screen before General obstructed her eyesight.

The agents in the room exchanged stunned glances. Dayang leaned closer to the screen. “That’s… all of them. All have the microbugs. Cinco got to all of them.”

Viktor frowned. “Ali too?”

“Zain, take a look at this,” Dayang said. She isolates a tab and hands it off to Zain. Zain took a quick look, narrowing his eyes at the content. He sent the file to the central screen and enlarged it.

Alicia managed to swallow down her gasp. Some of the agents in the room didn’t manage.

A neutralizer.

A microbug neutralizer designed to deactivate Jenny’s strain without harming the host. Ali has developed a solution to fight Cinco.

But the most damning evidence of all was the list of agents and civilians already purged from the microbugs. Dr Ghazali, Alicia, and Viktor’s names are amongst them.

“Geng Maju?” General Rama stepped forward, recognizing some of the faces on the screen. “How? When!”

“Check the access timeframe,” Zain told Dayang. “When was the last update?”

“Last access is the day after the Academy destroyed.” The day Nueve escaped from MATA.

“When did he get the time to give the cure?” He asked it in disbelief, but deep down, General and they all knew when Ali slipped in the neutralizer to cure Geng Maju.

After all, he only went there once. The day his cover was blown.

“Nueve,” Ganz scowled. “He knew she wasn’t just targeting people randomly. Cinco chooses people closest to the Numeros and her former squad in MATA, turning them into her pawns for succession.”

“He uses himself as bait to weed out Cinco influence,” Zain connects. “And that’s why Numeros speed up their attack on MATA. To kill Nueve before he did more damage.”

A hush fell over the room as realization sank in.

“We are already aware that Numeros has split into two factions, with Cinco having Uno’s support.” Zain continues. “What we need to find out is if this is a fight for leadership, or if they are looking to eliminate the other faction.”

“But most importantly, we need the neutralizer,” Dayang said, hand flying through the screen. “There’s no formula in here.”

“Then the priority now is to retrieve the neutralizer before they strike again. Comb through every item he could’ve hidden the neutralizer in.” Zain told to the waiting agents, he impressed further. “Thoroughly.”

They return back to Dr Ghazali's house. This time, with a bigger team.

The door creaked open after the first knock. Dr Ghazali stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise as he took in the small crowd now standing at his front steps.

Alicia stepped forward, clasping her hands together with a small bow of apology. “We’re sorry for the intrusion, Dr Ghazali. But-”

“Hello Uncle!” Viktor jumped out to stand beside Alicia, greeting Dr Ghazali. “We’re doing a second sweep.”

Dr Ghazali looks at the dozen of agents now waiting for entry. Yellow, blue, red, and silver; all looking at him expectantly.

He silently opened the door wider.

Chapter Text

They had searched for hours. Every shelf, drawer, and corner of Dr Ghazali’s house had been examined by the agents, this time much more thoroughly.

They lifted rugs, ran scanners along the walls, and even sifted through boxes of old school projects. Still nothing.

Meanwhile, Dr Ghazali and Bakar stood in the kitchen, watching Agent Fit lean under the sink, rummaging under the sink. The scene was strangely comforting. Clanging hardware and quiet humming gave the vibe of a domestic calm.

Dr Ghazali took the opportunity to talk with Bakar. The conversation is a bit stilted and awkward. But he doubts there is any as good as this one. especially with the type of circumstances the two of them found themselves in.

They talked about the weather, they talked about food, they talked about the economy and they talked about current news.

By unspoken pact, they both avoided talking about Ali and Aliya.

“You're not suspicious?” Bakar asks, curious. “When I told you that I worked as a ‘driver’ back then?”

“Not really.” Dr Ghazali admit. “Irregular job, long-term non-communication, far-off souvenir. I never thought anything was off.”

Bakar sighed. “If only my job were as easy as transporting items.”

“Every job has its challenges.” Dr Ghazali answered that. “Doesn’t matter if others claim it's easy or not.”

“And now I’m driving a truckload of agents on a deadline.” Bakar nodded toward the said agents, methodically peeling off Dr Ghazali’s house and putting it back together piece by piece.

“We are all looking for a type of neutralizer,” He explained their mission to his brother-in-law. “Our upper-up told us that these things have a low shelf life. So they’re looking to see if Ali left a formula behind.”

“A neutralizer?” Dr Ghazali echoed, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“A neutralizing agent.” Bakar elaborates. “Something like antibiotic that Ali made that can cure people from poison.”

“…Something that he made.” Dr Ghazali went quiet after that, deliberating something in his head. For a while, Bakar could almost see a fuse connecting in his head. And a lightbulb too.

Without a word, Dr Ghazali walked into a corner of the kitchen.

He opened a food cabinet. Moving things around and looking for something. Bakar didn’t interrupt; they had already cleared that part of the kitchen. Besides, who are they to deny the owner from using his own house?

After rummaging around the cabinet, Dr Ghazali let out a quiet cheer. “Found it.” He appears to have found what he’s been looking for.

He came back with two packages in hand, to the face of every agent crowding the kitchen. Dr Ghazali was a bit taken aback - especially with how quietly they move - but he took them in stride and proceeded with showing his finds.

A pack of sour gummies and a pack of cat kibbles. He placed both on the table.

“These two,” Dr Ghazali said. “Are the only things Ali has ever made regularly.”

“If there is a neutralizer in this house. I believe this is it.” He continued.

A hush fell over the kitchen. Alicia leaned forward, recognizing the label on the gummy.

She had them before; Ali had dared her to eat one at school weeks ago.

And the cat kibbles…

Alicia closed her eyes, steadying her breath.

Jenny’s microbugs targeted people around the Numeros. That means pets too. Ali has been regularly feeding neutralizer to his alleyway cats, all to protect them from Cinco’s cruelty.

“Then why all this packaging?” Rudy pointed at the gummy package in Alicia’s hand. He wasn’t wrong, both the gummy and kibbles look like they have just been bought at the supermarket. “Why put all the effort if we can just ask Dr Ghazali and find the answer?” 

“Like the game pack,” Bobby answered on Alicia’s behalf. “Nueve has been hiding intel by disguising it as mundane objects. Only people closest to him can tell the difference.” He gives a nod of acknowledgement to Viktor and Dr Ghazali.

Dr Ghazali was surprised to be included as ‘The closest’, but he quickly composed himself.

“We would never find these if we did a covert search or through force,” Alicia went through the possibilities. “He designed all this in such a way that the only way to retrieve this is through cooperation.”

“Besides,” Bobby wordlessly asked for the gum from Alicia. He read the writings on the plastic bag, then flipped it around facing his audience. “This type of disguise has its own use too.”

“This,” His finger points to the nutrition content section of the packaging. “Is the formula.”

“You gone crazy?!” Trez yelled at Rizwan. “What’s wrong with you!”

Rizwan, who has pinned Trez down, his knee digging into the other’s back.

“I know what you're doing,” Rizwan gritted his teeth. “Who do you work for!”

“WTF!” Trez yelled, his voice muffled against the concrete. “Get off me, man!”

“Answer me!” Rizwan pressed down harder.

“What are you talking about?” Trez twisted under him, trying to get a good look at Rizwan.

“THIS!” Rizwan shoved what was in his hand under Trez's nose. “Then what’s this!”

It took a moment for Trez to stop struggling to focus on the small thing in Rizwan's hand.

The item in his hand being the metallic attachment that Trez placed at the water treatment plant facility.

“Oh fuc.” Trez's eyes widened in horror.

“Bobby is right.” Agent Geetha beamed. “The formula for neutralizer is printed in the nutrition section.”

“It’s there?” Alicia blinked in surprise, leaning closer. “Does that mean we now have to eat compacted sour pills?”

Alicia grimaced at the thought, shuddering at the sour aftertaste of the gummy. The tongue-shrivelling flavour is forever imprinted in her mind like a life-long trauma.

Geetha let out a laugh hearing that. “Nonsense, the sour powder does nothing.” She pointed to the gummy. “The neutralizer is in the gum.”

Alicia's eye twitched. Damnit.

“Still, this is a solid lead. It’ll take time to reverse-engineer the full composition, but the current one will suffice for field agents.” Geetha said.

“Alicia!” Khai rushes in, RO wheeling after him.

Alicia straightened immediately. “What happened?” Her hand automatically on her balistique.

“The news,” Khai said, running over to them. His face was pale. “It’s Dr Ghazali.”

Alicia’s heart almost stopped.

Geetha spun around and tapped the screen, opening the nearest live feed and enlarging it. Within seconds, a news anchor appeared mid-sentence, the glowing red BREAKING NEWS banner blazing beneath her.

“…confirming the reports that Dr Ghazali, pioneer of Cyber city engineering advancement, was taken by unknown individuals earlier this evening outside his own residence. Private security footage shows several figures intercepting him before camera feeds were abruptly cut. No group has yet claimed responsibility…”

Alicia’s stomach dropped.

Chapter Text

“…security footage shows several figures intercepting him before camera feeds were abruptly cut. No group has yet claimed responsibility…”

The anchor’s voice droned from the command room’s main screen.

In the cold light of the monitor, none of the Pillars spoke at first.

Pillar Zain stood with arms crossed, his expression unreadable, eyes locked on the frozen image.

“This is deliberate,” Zain said. “They're drawing out Nueve.”

Dayang’s frown deepened. “Then we should tread carefully.”

Ganz, leaning against the side table with a scowl, pushed forward with his usual directness. “We need to rescue Dr Ghazali fast. The longer we wait-”

“I know,” Dayang cut in, voice firmer than before. “But rushing could make things worse.”

“They took Dr Ghazali just like that.” Ganz bit out. 

“They’re trying to provoke him. And if we respond with force, Ganz, we risk escalation. Civilians could get caught in this.” Dayang argues back.

A beat of tense silence passed between them before Zain finally made his decision.

“Get our teams ready for action.”

Both pillars turned to look at him.

Zain didn’t meet their gaze. He was already facing the console, fingers moving as he tapped in a command. The alert would go directly to General Rama, triggering high-priority protocols and elevating all MATA active task force units to ready status.

Then, “Be prepared to meet Nueve.”

And. “He may already see the news.”

Dayang glanced at him.

Zain is rarely wrong.

The anchor voice comes out from the TV speaker.

“…no group has yet claimed responsibility…”

The dim room was lit only by the glow of the television screen.

The same few seconds of footage looped over and over, of Dr Ghazali's abduction.

Ali sat forward on the couch. Comot perched beside him, ears perked up; his cat is also alert at the news.

Ali is not pleased.

The boy reached for his phone on the side table. Snap opens the flip casing without looking and hits the speed dial.

“Rizwan,” Ali called. The number didn’t connect. “Hello?”

Ali looked at his phone in confusion.

What is he doing?

.

.

.

Trez grumbled nonstop, his boots slam on the grated floor of the water treatment facility as he stomped ahead.

“Look at all this mess! I should be done with this hours ago, instead this happened!” he snapped, glaring over his shoulder.

“Right now I could be enjoying my breakfast!”

Rizwan rolled his eyes in annoyance, but kept his quiet. This is after all, his fault.

The neutralizer enhancer, which Rizwan had yanked out thinking it was a trap, now had to be reattached properly. A process that wouldn’t have been needed had he not jumped to conclusion.

And so they returned back to the water treatment facility.

Unfortunately, Ali’s order was clear. That they are not to be seen. Leaving them no other choice but to wait out on the exact time the facility worker leaves the area instead of barging their way in as they would normally do.

Rizwan is a little glad he didn’t drain the whole pool, thinking it was just a discarded drink. Had he done so, Trez's tongue-lashing would be tripled.

Now, with the enhancer securely reapplied and everything is back to order, the two of them were finally making their way out of the facility.

That is, until they heard the familiar bickering echo of two other Numeros; their voices bounced in the building.

“Oh- C’mon-”

“-Wei!”

Seis and Siete.

Rizwan stopped in his tracks. His body went stiff. Beside him, Trez straightens up.

It appears that it would take longer before they return.

So much for an easy exit.

Dr Ghazali groaned miserably. 

Much more miserable when he think about how he got caught in the first place.

They took him in front of his own house that night. Disguising themselves as out-of-control motorcyclists who misparked and hit his car.

The car’s sensors had been triggered by the hit. And the shrieking alarm made Dr Ghazali jump in surprise.

Cursing under his breath, he rushed outside, slippers scraping against the pavement. They look uninjured, and so the developer let them be. More preoccupied with turning off his car’s alarm as fast as possible; more so with his neighbour’s toddler, Danish, who does not need his sleep interrupted.

He remembered glancing toward the pair as one of them raised a hand in greeting and called out, “Dr Ghazali?”

He only had time to reply before another knocked him out cold, only to wake up restrained in a moving vehicle. Blindfolded - and probably for better measure - covered in a blackout sack.

Who did it? Dr Ghazali would like to know too.

But any method of communication from him will only be answered with harsh reprimands.

The journey was nothing but a blur of muffling and swaying.

Dr Ghazali tried to deduce the general location of where he was taken, but no such luck. The one thing that he can reliably say is that he was taken far from the city center based on the lack of urban noise.

After who knows how long like this, Dr Ghazali fell asleep.

Abang Bear is also miserable.

His hideout is in disarray. His stuff destroyed, and his men all knocked out. The culprit is none other than his last-minute ‘guest’.

His guest who is comfortably lounging on the sofa, every inch a spoiled brat; gracing him with patience that is gradually wearing thin. And what must be his chief enforcer, Niki - right behind him - leaned against the wall, her arms folded.

And right in front of them is none other than Abang Bear. Sitting straight on the guest chair in his own place. On the table, arranged neatly in front of him are casings filled full with microbugs.

Forbidden tech that was caught smuggled into Cyberaya by Andik; one of Niki’s people. How convenient for Ali to get a heads-up, right when he’s about to head out to look for his father. This better be good.

“Abang Bear,” Ali sighed. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

The crime lord shrank. Eyes darting from Ali to Niki back and forth, then to the casings, likely considering which of them is the more terrifying one.

A drop of sweat rolled down his neck.

“…No?” That sounds more like a question.

BAM!

Niki's palm slams on the table. Abang bear squeaked.

“Let’s try again,” Ali rested his cheek on his palm, elbow on the armrest. His eyes sharp. “Do be honest this time.”

“Why did you lot transport this stuff?” The boy picks up one translucent casing with his free hand to the hanging lightbulb, letting murky shadow pass through. "Do you even aware what this things do?"

“Shouldn’t you at the very least ask why?”

.

.

.

Niki shifted a little, then moved to stand right next to Abang Bear.

She cracked her fist.

“I don’t ask!” Abang Bear shrieked. “They paid extra not to ask questions. So we didn’t!”

“And who is this ‘they’?” With voice sweeter than honey, Ali tilted his head slightly as he asked, lips curled into a smile. He turned the translucent casing slowly in his fingers, letting the writhing shadow inside catch the light in a way that made it look almost alive.

The crime lord cowered. “I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.” Niki punched.

Tang!

Dr Ghazali jolted awake, heart hammering. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep; his exhaustion must have overtaken him somewhere between all that.

Pain lanced through his shoulders as he stirred, the rope biting into his skin where it had rubbed raw. His legs were numb, his neck ached, and his mouth was dry.

As he tries to get his bearings, sounds of scuffling and something hard hitting the wall continue. That's what waking him earlier.

Dr Ghazali tried to look around before realizing he wouldn't be able to see anyway.

It's silent now. Whatever happened must already be over.

He could feel something moving behind him.

Someone is untying the rope.

“Hello?” He croaked, testing his luck. His voice was weak and rough from thirst. “Is it MATA?”

A pause.

.

.

Then the blindfold came off.

Dr Ghazali blinked his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. His surroundings came into focus little by little, but more than enough to clue him in that he was in a building. The blackout sack is in pieces on the floor, along with several passed-out people; that must be his kidnapper.

And right behind him is his rescuer. Letting him loose.

“Agent,” Dr Ghazali stretches his head to look back, to see the agent responsible for his recovery. “Thank you for savin-”

His eye met Ali’s.

His son.

Dr Ghazali went speechless. His mouth dried up.

It’s-

He realized then, there was no agent from MATA who came to his rescue.

It is his own son.

“MATA wouldn’t reach here in twenty minutes,” Ali murmured, already moving to unbind his father’s ankles. “Let’s go.”

Dr Ghazali swallowed the lump in his throat. He pushed himself up from the chair, legs wobbling beneath him as blood struggled to circulate. Pins and needles shot up his limbs; proof that he had been on that chair for quite some time.

He stares at the back of his son’s head as they make their way out. Ali, on his part, pretends not to notice that he’s being observed. It has been quite a while since they last met. Which was at Ali’s holding cell, with the boy in orange.

Dr Ghazali shifted his attention to his surroundings. The place is worn out with age, sunlight streaming from holes in the rooftop. High-pitched squeaks here and there; rats.

And he’s falling behind.

Dr Ghazali walks faster.

After a few twists and turns, they both finally stepped outside - right under the morning sunlight - where a black car waiting near the warehouse entrance. A woman leaning beside the car, clearly waiting for them.

Dr Ghazali at first thought that the woman in purple would be the one who would drive them away from this place. He is gravely mistaken when she walks past them into the warehouse without a glance in their direction.

“Come on,” Ali already opened the passenger side door and gestured for his father to enter, then he slid into the driver's seat. “We need to hurry.” Dr Ghazali could hear the roaring engine outside the car.

He gingerly entered the car. Cautiously sink into the seat after connecting the safety belt. Dr Ghazali had a stray thought that this is what a Midsummer Night's Dream is like, out of any known logical boundaries and unconnected with reality.

Shouldn’t this be a dream? Perhaps he is still in the warehouse and this is all an illusion? Had he gone senile?

Wait!

His eyes catch the gear stick. More importantly, the numbers 1 to 6 embedded on it.

This car is manual?!

Ali pays no mind to his father's conflict with his sanity.

He has other issues to think of as he switches the gear and puts the car in reverse. The car smoothly pulls out from the area, makes a clean three-point turn reverse and enters the main road, slipping between vehicles like nothing.

Dr Ghazali now openly stares at his 12-year-old son, who for all intents and purposes should not know how to drive. Much less with such ease. But then, he never really knew his son, didn’t he?

Ali reached for something at the back of the car. A paper bag, the edges slightly crinkled.

“Here,” He held the bag out to his father as he drove, eyes still fixed ahead on the traffic. “You should eat, just in case you haven’t yet.”

Dr Ghazali looked at the bag, then at Ali, puzzled. “What’s this?”

“Sandwich. Egg and sausage,” Ali replied, as if that clarified everything. “Pretty rare for kidnappers to provide meals.”

He gave a dubious glance at his son whose focus firmly on the road.

“You won’t feel it now,” One hand clicks on the right signal near a crossroad. “Adrenaline covers up a lot. But later, your body’s gonna crash hard. Better to eat before that come.”

Ali continued while fluidly navigating through the road as he talked. “Trust me, I know.”

Dr Ghazali followed Ali’s suggestion and took the paper bag. As he ate the sandwich, Dr Ghazali realized after one bite how famished he was. He took a glance at the radio system, taking note of the time.

10.32 a.m.

He had been abducted for almost 12 hours. He missed breakfast, and supper.

Midway through his meal, Dr Ghazali pressed on the radio button. An upcoming pop song blares out on the radio. 

The songs not that bad. A catchy earworm. Just… teenagery…

Is this what kids listen to nowadays?

Dr Ghazali discreetly winced. Ali - noticed his reaction - reached out and turned the volume down.

The car finally stopped moving. Ali turned the keys, cut off the engine and stepped out. 

Dr Ghazali remained in the car for a moment longer, not knowing what to do. He looked around to see if the area was familiar, or if there was anyone there he recognized.

What he sees instead is a modest gate a few meters ahead, flanked by high walls and partially veiled by greenery. The light was softer here, shaded by tall trees that arched overhead. It didn’t look like a government facility or any building that he knew.

With a small breath, Dr Ghazali opened his door and stepped out. He walked to Ali’s side, who was waiting by the gate. The gate lock already opened.

Without a word, the boy pushed it open. It creaked faintly as it swung inward.

“This way,” Ali said.

It took them walking past a classroom filled with students for Dr Ghazali to realize that he was inside a school. And have been entering it through the back gate.

And mounted on a wall, just above a notice board filled with posters and colorful artwork, was the school’s name. In bold, slightly faded letters.

SRK CYBERAYA 1

He stared at the name for a moment before it dawned on him.

This is his son’s school; the weight of the realization pressed him down. His mouth tightened in shame.

Dr Ghazali had seen the name before, on papers, registration forms, and occasional official documents. And have been here a few times too, invited by teachers for events and publicity. 

He remembered Ali’s surprised face when he saw him on the podium years before. Only to be whisked away to the VVIP lounge area once the school program ended, not once able to return home until late at night that day.

How pathetic must he be that his own son sees him more at school events than inside their home.

Ali, not noticing Dr Ghazali's inner turmoil brought him deeper inside, straight into the school library. Lead him to a hidden corner and fiddled with one of the library books.

A door opened.

“This is an access point to one of MATA's safehouses,” Ali gestured to the open doorway. “You will be safe there.”

“Ali-” Dr Ghazali tries to speak.

“There is not much time. Go there.” Ali interrupted him. “Tell MATA that I sent you.”

Dr Ghazali paused, then stepped through the doorway. The door closed on him; his son’s face was the last he saw before he plunged down into the tube.

Once Dr Ghazali disappeared through the MATA entrance, the composure Ali had been holding onto crumbled. His shoulders sagged. He reached out, bracing himself with a hand on the wall and exhaled sharply through his teeth.

“That's heartfelt.”

Ali’s head tilted toward the voice. Pillar Zain stood at the far end of the aisle, leaning against a bookshelf.

He looks… pensive.

“Shouldn’t I do my best to protect my own father?” Ali straightened himself up, a little angry. “Had your people acted with more discretion, he wouldn’t be in danger in the first place.”

“Logically,” He gave the pillar a look. “Shouldn’t I hold you lot for the responsibility?”

Logically, Pillar Zain should arrest Ali. Especially since they are enemies. And he did break out from MATA detention centre.

Logically, a school full of children is the last place a fight should take place.

Zain gave a slow nod. “You should.” He stepped forward, falling into stride beside Ali as they exited the library together.

“MATA already received my message,” Zain said. “Your father will be safe there.”

Ali gave a slight nod in return. “Thank you.”

Zain glanced at him, his tone turning more thoughtful. “It’s me who should be thankful,” he said. “You did help me back then. There’s no reason to do so. And yet you did.”

“Lucky for you, I guess.” Ali shrugged. “Don’t expect for this to happen again.”

“Noted.”

They walk around the school corridor. They went through the hallway he had come in earlier before Ali spoke again.

“My people have been distributing the neutralizer through the water filtration system,” Ali had his hand tucked in his pocket. “It’s already in circulation. At this point, pretty much everyone in Cyberaya is clean.”

Zain’s brow furrowed. His posture remained straight with his hands clasped behind his back. “Is there any risk of reinfection?”

“Always,” Ali didn’t look at him. “I trust that you can handle that on your own.”

It's obvious to the neuro now that the boy already aware that MATA has the neutralizer and its formula in hand. He most likely orchestrated his agents in finding it. And now that MATA had the formula, the responsibility now rested on them.

They both walk out through the back gate. Where Ali parks ‘his’ car. The boy gets in, hand already with the car key.

“Nueve-”

“I’d rather you call me Ali.” Ali scowled in distaste. “Nueve is nothing but an empty rank.”

Ali’s fingers hovered over the gear shift, his other hand resting lightly on the steering wheel. He’s about to press the gas when a thought came to pass.

“Try to lay low these next few days,” He turned his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to catch Zain’s. “Things will get a little buzzy.”

Without a backward glance, the boy sped away, leaving Pillar Zain eating dust.

“Sir,” A security guard rushed to the Neuro Leader. A few meters in, the guard sheds its disguise to reveal an Invisio agent. “We planted the tracker on the car.”

“Good.”

“Debrief at HQ in 15,” Zain instructed the agent. “Prepare a strike team.”