The ten-minute countdown was a cold, silent whip driving Rajeev and Rohan. They left the warehouse behind, weaving through the late-night traffic back towards the apartment. The drive was a blur of frantic planning.
"The adjacent building's layout is symmetrical to yours," Rohan explained, eyes wide with manic focus. "Apartment 2B is directly beneath the apartment where the hostile relay is located. But we need to get to the roof of the second-floor flat."
"The roof of the second floor?" Rajeev questioned, gripping the steering wheel.
"It's an older design, Rajeev. The flats often have small utility spaces or an awning over the balconies, accessible from the window of the flat above it. Our target is Apartment 2B, but we'll try to breach from Apartment 3B's window, where the ledge access is better," Rohan deduced, checking a satellite map on his tablet. "Failing that, we'll go in the traditional way—through the main door. But that risks a confrontation."
They parked the car blocks away and approached the silent, five-story building. Rajeev, haunted by the memory of his balcony jump, felt a fresh wave of anxiety.
The Silent Climb
The ground floor security door was locked. Rohan, with unexpected ease, produced a tiny, specialized lock-picking tool. "Every complex system has an obvious flaw," he muttered, and the lock clicked open in seconds.
They crept up the central staircase. The building was asleep, the silence amplifying their heartbeats. Rajeev carried the hammer, his weapon of last resort; Rohan carried a small, silenced drill and a multi-tool.
They reached the third floor. Apartment 3B's door was heavy and secure.
"We avoid the direct door," Rohan whispered, already moving down the hall toward the main stairwell window. "We're going in through the utility line. It's the least monitored path."
Rohan examined a narrow drainage pipe running vertically along the exterior wall near the stairwell. "This is unstable, but it works."
Rajeev, relying on sheer adrenaline, began the precarious climb up the wet, mossy pipe. He was strong, but the climb was terrifying, his mind flashing images of the long fall into the alley. Rohan followed, moving with a surprising agility that belied his intellectual nature.
They reached the window ledge of the third floor. Rajeev pulled himself onto the small, exposed balcony of Apartment 3B. He was breathing heavily, his branded shoulder protesting violently.
The window was tightly sealed. Rohan used a precision drill to quietly remove the screws holding the window latch in place. It was a tedious, agonizingly slow process, every grating sound seeming deafening in the still night.
The Target
They slipped inside Apartment 3B. The occupants were deep in sleep, only their heavy, rhythmic breathing audible. Rohan moved like a ghost, his years of clandestine research paying off.
They moved through the dark living room to the balcony window. Rajeev looked down. The balcony of Apartment 2B was directly beneath them, and its roof—the utility awning—was just three feet below.
Rohan pointed to a small, louvered vent near the ceiling of the balcony. "That's it. That's where the directional beam is coming from. The relay is inside that vent."
Rajeev had the hammer ready. "Let's smash it and get out."
"No. Smash it, and the consequence is instantly executed. We must dismantle it," Rohan corrected, pulling out a fiber-optic probe.
He carefully pried open the louvers. Inside, mounted directly against the concrete, was a small, black, metallic box, covered in strange, non-standard ports and glowing with a single, faint red light. It was cold to the touch and humming with a nearly imperceptible frequency.
This was the eye and voice of Anonymous Death in Rajeev's neighborhood.
Rohan didn't use brute force. He used a tiny, custom-made antenna, connecting it to a port on the box. He worked with blistering speed, his eyes wide with intensity.
"I'm executing a 'digital lobotomy,'" Rohan whispered. "I'm sending a code packet that will erase its memory buffer and disable its core logic board, making it inert without physical damage."
The red light on the box flickered, then turned green, then went dark.
"Done," Rohan announced, his voice filled with triumph. "The relay is offline. We successfully acted before the deadline."
The New Consequence
They slipped back out of Apartment 3B, scaling down the pipe, and running silently out of the building. They were back in Rajeev's car, speeding away from the scene of the crime, just as the digital alarm on Rohan's tablet chimed.
His phone buzzed.
TO: Rohan Verma (Host)
CORRECT CHOICE. Action prevents immediate loss. Mrs. Sharma is safe.
The consequence of successful Host action is the escalation of the game environment.
We have successfully archived your full digital life and analyzed your professional methodologies.
EVENT 4 IS READY: THE INTELLECTUAL CHALLENGE.
The price for failure remains Mrs. Sharma's life.
Your choice: You have 6 hours to create a viable, unbreakable 'dead man's switch' that will instantly publish the full source code of the ANI to the dark web upon your death, OR you must confess to the murder of Suresh Sharma to the police within the hour.
Failure to execute either choice by the deadline will trigger Mrs. Sharma's permanent consequence.
Rohan pulled over violently, gripping the steering wheel. "A dead man's switch... that's a direct challenge to my cryptographic expertise! But they are also tempting me with the surrender option! Why?"
Rajeev felt a new wave of dread. "Confess to Suresh's murder? They want you cornered, isolated, and legally impotent. If you're in jail, you can't build the switch."
Rohan laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. The brand on his forehead pulsed angrily. "They want the impossible choice, Rajeev. They've given me six hours to build the most sophisticated digital time bomb of my career. And if I succeed, I win my own safety, but the game is exposed globally. If I fail, I confess, and the ANI remains safe, but Mrs. Sharma dies."
He looked at Rajeev, his eyes burning with a feverish intensity. "This is not about life, Rajeev. It's about control of the information. They want me to choose between sacrificing my freedom for their exposure, or sacrificing an innocent life for their security. We build the switch. Now."