Sai woke before dawn, the thin morning light struggling through the slats of his window. His small room seemed heavier than usual, weighed down by the unanswered questions and creeping dread that had engulfed him since the previous night.
The message on his phone kept flashing in his mind: "Welcome back to StarCode AI. How have you been?" That cold greeting was no welcome message. It was more like a clear cut warning that he was being observed and monitored.
Surprisingly, after his screen flashed that message, his mobile ran like normal, with not even a notification from StarCode AI. The first thing he did after opening his phone was to try uninstalling it again but as usual he got the same set of error messages. In the end, his mobile froze up and stopped working entirely.
Finally, he lay in his bed until daylight shone on his face and got ready for his morning college classes. By this point, he was internally frozen. He was sleep deprived and restless, didn't want to eat or speak, and didn't know what to do about the app as well. Knowing him, his mother asked him if something was wrong but he just shook his head and left for college.
…
His college was nothing like the lively, polished campuses he had seen online, the ones that he actually wanted to go to.
Located on the edge of Vishrampur, it was a faded relic of a once more prosperous time. The peeling paint on the main building, the cracked tiles of the courtyards, and the rusted iron gates all spoke of neglect.
Classrooms were overcrowded, and some windows were held shut with makeshift wooden planks. Despite this, it was the heart of their small town, where hopes and fears mingled in equal measure, and students from neighbouring towns and villages came for quality education as well.
Sai trudged through the worn paths between buildings, past groups of students exchanging hurried greetings or sitting clustered around threadbare benches.
The pervasive presence of old CCTV cameras, occasionally blurred by dust and cobwebs, reminded him the whole campus was under constant watch. If this was two days ago, he would have laughed it off, thinking that nobody in this small town would go through these recordings and nobody would be watching them.
Now however, he felt, or rather, he knew that someone was watching him at all times. Somehow, somewhere, someone far away from him knew all that he was doing.
The ever-watchful eye of the old cameras felt strangely different from the app's invasive gaze, colder, more mechanical, but no less suffocating. It was like the eye of the app had materialized.
After his morning classes, Sai found Veer and Rhea waiting by the steps of the even older library, its wooden facade sagging slightly and vines creeping along the edges.
Veer smiled faintly, but his dark eyes betrayed worry. Rhea's stance was protective, arms crossed as she listened intently.
"How are you holding up?" She asked quietly.
Sai shrugged, the tension evident in his shoulders. "Last night… the app's messages got worse. It knows about my family now. And that message on my phone, it wasn't random. It's like it's watching me all the time."
Veer's voice was low but firm. "This isn't just about predictions. It's controlling us, shaping what happens next."
They huddled closer, voices dropping as they devised ways to share their story. "We can make a video on YouTube," Rhea suggested. "Warn others who might be caught in this. Although we'll be called names and not many people might believe or even watch that video, it's still better than doing nothing."
Veer nodded, already pulling out his phone, "you know what, Sai, she's right. Let's do this."
"Are you two sure about this? We have no proof, after all." Sai said hesitantly.
"If we had any proof, we would have filed a cyber crime complaint and tried to have the app shut down. It is exactly because we don't have any proof that we need this. Stories have power and more or less, everyone who has used this app has seen what it can do." Veer pumped his fists and said, looking motivated.
Affected by this, Sai agreed, "Okay, let's start then. You start a video, I'll speak. We'll upload this everywhere we can."
"That's the spirit!" Exclaimed Veer and unlocked his phone but just as he unlocked it, a sharp notification blared: "Upcoming fatal injury, click to read more."
Their eyes met, a flicker of fear passing between them. The message on screen soon revealed itself a dark, cryptic warning from the app's mascot, cloaked in astrology signs: "You and the two beside you can avoid fatal injury by following the stars. Resist, and danger will follow."
The trio exchanged uneasy glances.
"What the–?" Rhea held back a scream as soon as she saw that message. While Sai and Veer were used to the app's creepy and personal message, Rhea hadn't seen it happen like this. Her entire worldview was shaken by this. Veer and Sai, while scared, were more composed.
Sai's voice was barely a whisper. "We can't rush this... not without a plan."
Veer nodded. "We don't even know how deep its reach is. Every move is being tracked."
Rhea looked at them both, "how are the two of you this composed? Can't we take a screenshot of this and show someone? Isn't that proof enough?"
"As if it'll let us…" Veer scoffed lightly, venting his frustration at the app but in order to prove it, he took a screenshot nonetheless.
However, when he opened that screenshot, the screen was pitch black, the same thing that happens when you try to take a screenshot of credit card details or other private information.
"This is…" Rhea's voice trailed off as she felt out of ideas as well.
Sai looked at them after a moment of silence and said, "we need to meet without our phones next time. No digital trace. No eavesdropping. How about 7 o'clock tonight?"
Veer swallowed hard, his resolve hardening. "It's done, we'll be there but this is no longer a game. We're fighting for control–over our lives."
After talking some more, they parted under the watchful eyes of the old college walls. Outside, an invisible war waged in silence–fought with whispered words, coded warnings, and the fragile hope of three friends standing against the unseen.