Morning crept into Karachi with a hesitant light, slicing through clouds still heavy from the night's storm. The Central Intelligence Complex was eerily quiet—too quiet. Usually, by dawn, the corridors buzzed with chatter and keystrokes, but today, only the hum of the servers broke the silence.
Inspector Kamran Mirza entered the main operations hall, a cup of cold coffee in hand. His steps slowed. Every monitor was frozen on the same screen: a single word blinking in red—*ECHO*.
"Jamshed?" he called out.
No response.
He checked the command office. Empty. The desk light was still on, rainwater dripping from an open window. Jamshed Khan was gone.
Kamran's heart raced. He grabbed his phone and called headquarters. "This is Mirza. I need an immediate trace on Inspector Khan's comms—now!"
The operator replied shakily, "Sir… his signal stopped transmitting at 3:47 a.m. The last ping was near Clifton Bridge. After that… nothing."
Kamran felt a chill climb his spine.
He stormed into the briefing room, where Professor Dawood sat surrounded by stacks of printouts and graphs.
"He's missing," Kamran said flatly.
Dawood didn't look surprised. "I know. Jeeral made his move."
Kamran slammed his palm on the table. "You knew?"
Dawood exhaled slowly. "Jamshed sent me a message at 3:00 a.m.—encrypted through a ghost network. He said if he vanished, we'd need to find something called 'Project Seraph.' He didn't explain, only said Jeeral's secret lies inside it."
Kamran frowned. "Seraph? That sounds like a myth."
Dawood leaned forward, eyes sharp. "So does Jeeral surviving a missile strike, but here we are."
---
Across town, the Khan residence was waking to chaos of its own.
Mehmood Khan was already glued to his laptop, running code traces across government servers. His brother Farooq was pacing, cracking jokes to hide his anxiety. Farzana sat on the couch, scrolling through encrypted news feeds.
"They're saying Baba's missing," Farzana murmured, her voice trembling.
Mehmood didn't look up. "He's not missing. He's hiding. It's what he'd want us to believe."
Farooq crossed his arms. "Oh, so vanishing in the middle of a cyber-attack is just part of his morning routine?"
Mehmood's glare was sharp. "Mock all you want. I'm tracking Jeeral's signal. The system Dad built has fail-safes he didn't share with the agency."
Farzana stood. "You think Jeeral's behind this?"
Mehmood's fingers froze. "He's behind everything."
---
A sudden knock rattled the door. Rehman Uncle entered, rain dripping from his military jacket. He looked exhausted but determined.
"Kids, pack light," he said gruffly. "We're leaving the house. Now."
Farooq frowned. "Leaving? Why?"
Rehman looked toward the window. Outside, a black car sat idling, engine running, no headlights on. "Because that's not a delivery van."
Within seconds, Mehmood shut his laptop and grabbed a hard drive. Farzana stuffed her father's files into a backpack. Rehman pulled a pistol from his coat and motioned them toward the back door.
The moment they stepped out, the front windows shattered. A flash grenade went off, filling the living room with smoke.
Farooq coughed. "What the hell—who are they?"
"Jeeral's men," Rehman said, firing a controlled burst at the shadows approaching. "Go! To the alley!"
They ran through the rain, hearts pounding. Behind them, the house burned, its flames flickering against the wet streets.
---
Meanwhile, at the ruined Complex, Kamran and Dawood stood in front of a server unit still humming despite the blackout. Dawood typed in a code Jamshed had once shown him. The system unlocked—revealing a hidden file.
The title read: *PROJECT SERAPH – LEVEL OMEGA CLEARANCE*.
Kamran leaned closer. "What is it?"
Dawood's face went pale. "It's not a file. It's a consciousness map. Jamshed was building an AI based on human decision patterns."
Kamran's eyes widened. "You mean…"
"Yes," Dawood whispered. "Jeeral was one of the prototypes. The first that went wrong."
The room felt colder.
Kamran looked out at the rain-smeared window, his voice low. "Then Jeeral isn't just a criminal."
Dawood nodded grimly. "He's our creation."
---
Far away, in a high-tech command chamber beneath Karachi's docks, Jeeral watched the chaos unfold on a dozen screens. His lips curved into a calm smile.
"Phase two begins," he said softly. "Let them chase the echoes."
The lights dimmed as his reflection shimmered across a wall of code—half man, half machine, and something far beyond either.