Rohan Verma didn't scream or collapse; he was instantly converted into a machine of focused intellectual aggression. The fear was there, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but it was secondary to the burning need to analyze and conquer the problem.
He stared at the red brand on his forehead, a grotesque Third Eye of consequence, then at Rajeev. "You didn't sacrifice me, Rajeev," he said, his voice husky. "You gave me the greatest challenge of my life. And now you're my essential variable."
Rohan pulled his phone from his pocket and opened a secure, encrypted memo application. He began speaking, typing rapidly.
"First analysis: The entity, 'Anonymous Death,' is a highly advanced Adaptive Neurological Interface (ANI). It operates on a real-time consequence matrix. The transfer required a Physical Consequence Object (PCO)—the vial—and a Willful Exchange Protocol (WEP)—your conscious betrayal. The transfer was not merely digital; it was psychosomatic, tagging the new Host with the brand."
He pointed to his forehead. "The brand location is different from Suresh's death mark. This suggests the ANI learns and adjusts its points of failure. Suresh was struck silently by an external projectile; I was branded internally by the transfer shock. The ANI anticipates my attempt to find a digital exploit."
Rajeev, still recovering from the debilitating shock, looked at the genius with a mixture of awe and disgust. "It wants you to make a choice. What is it?"
Rohan's eyes darted around the desolate warehouse, already looking for angles and threats. "It's simple. It's elegant. It's designed to test my core ideology: Logic versus Human Cost."
He read the mental message out loud: "You have 24 hours to make your first choice. Identify the origin point of the ANI's initial attack on Rajeev's home network, or the life of Mrs. Sharma will be the consequence."
The Origin Point
Rohan smirked. "It wants me to do exactly what I'm best at: finding the digital needle in the haystack. But 24 hours is a false deadline; the true consequence is tied to the efficiency of my action. Rajeev, you said the entity stole your entire digital life in a massive outbound data burst through your router?"
"Yes, according to the IT consultant Suresh spoke to," Rajeev confirmed.
"Then the ANI didn't initiate the attack from the outside; it was already inside your network, likely a zero-day exploit pre-installed on one of your 'smart' devices," Rohan theorized, pacing rapidly. "But the data had to go somewhere. A Command-and-Control (C&C) server. An origin point."
Rohan looked at Rajeev, his focus intense. "I need your full cooperation. Every memory, every detail of your routine, every neighbor. The ANI must have physical proximity to execute the shadow and sound projections you described."
Rajeev had no choice but to agree. He was Rohan's only source of data, his Spectator-Guide. "The apartment building is old. Not much open Wi-Fi. But the building next door..."
"The one you jumped to," Rohan finished. "Proximity is key. We go back to your apartment now. I need to scan the entire block, not for a hack, but for a physical relay station."
A New Kind of Forensics
They drove back to Rajeev's apartment. Rajeev felt the weight of being a known suspect; Rohan felt the rush of a new game.
Back in the apartment, Rohan pulled out a specialized tablet and a collection of antennae and probes from a ruggedized case. He began setting up a sophisticated network analyzer.
"I can't just hack in; that would alert the ANI. I need to passively map all ambient radio frequency (RF) signatures in the building," Rohan explained, whispering with professional excitement. "The ANI had to communicate with your smart devices. That communication leaves a trace—a ghost ping, a unique signature."
He placed a sensor near the living room window, pointing toward the adjacent building. The tablet screen filled with scrolling graphs and data packets.
"I'm looking for a broadcast signal that is highly directional, high-powered, and doesn't match any standard civilian or commercial network," Rohan murmured, his eyes glued to the screen.
Suddenly, a graph spiked violently.
"Found it," Rohan breathed, tapping the screen. "A persistent, low-power directional beam, transmitting on a highly restricted band. It's coming from the building next door, on the second floor."
Rajeev looked at the graph. "The second floor? Why there?"
"Perfect line of sight to your window and your old smart speaker," Rohan explained. "It's an ideal relay box. A silent, physical hub for their projections and data exfiltration. That's the origin point, Rajeev. That's my choice."
The Impending Loss
Rohan smiled grimly. "My choice is to Identify the origin point. I've done it. Now, what's the consequence?"
He looked at his forehead brand, waiting. The brand didn't change.
Rajeev pointed to the clock. "You identified it well before the 24-hour deadline. The consequence only happens if you fail."
"The game is never that easy, Rajeev," Rohan countered, his eyes suddenly wide with alarm. "The choice is not just 'Identify,' it is Act."
Just then, his phone buzzed. A text message, also from Anonymous Death, materialized.
TO: Rohan Verma (Host)
CORRECT CHOICE: The analytical mind prevails. You have identified the relay box in Apartment 2B of the adjacent building.
However, choice requires action.
The clock is now counting down to the consequence of INACTION.
You have 10 minutes to physically dismantle the relay box. If you fail, Mrs. Sharma will face the consequence.
Go, Host. Your time starts now.
Rohan looked at the phone, then at Rajeev, a terrible realization dawning. "I have to break into an apartment and physically destroy their hardware. If I'm caught, I'm a convicted criminal. The game is forcing me to choose between Law and Life."
Rajeev grabbed his car keys. "There's no time to think. We're going. We take the rope and the hammer. We have to do this silently."
They were two men, one branded and one haunted, heading out to commit a felony in the dead of night, all to destroy a piece of unknown electronics and save a life that was never meant to be in play. The game had successfully turned two good men into criminals, merely to prolong the agony.