Sponsored Advertisements
Top Contributors
People who started the most discussions.
New Discussions
-
Delete the Drama
Success Algorithm
1 min ago00 -
African Moms & Light
Peterdemian Nzube
2 mins ago00 -
Wake Up With Purpose
Success Algorithm
2 mins ago00 -
To New konnect member
Zainab
2 mins ago00 -
Knockout stage for the Club World Cup
Joshkenny
5 mins ago00
Promise
4 hrs agoChapter Four: Crows and Code
The morning light broke like glass across the horizon.
Amara hadn’t slept. Her eyes burned, her fingers trembled—not from fear, but fury. What once felt like paranoia was now undeniable truth. Chuka and Tosin weren’t just lying—they were planning something. And she was the target.
She moved with surgical focus, her mind slicing through panic like a scalpel.
First: stabilize her system.
Second: hunt the breach.
Third: burn the rot at its root.
She logged into a private terminal buried beneath layers of decoy servers—one she'd built in university when she first realized how vulnerable everything was.
Her real life, her real systems, lived in this ghost shell.
The hacker’s trail was sloppy. Confident. Almost performative.
Whoever it was… wanted her to know they had access.
She traced the incursion backward.
Saudi server. Proxy chain. London exit node.
She smirked.
"Sloppy and dramatic."
Meanwhile.
Chuka sat across from Tosin in a hotel room lined with blackout curtains and burner laptops. Gone were the suits and smiles. This version of him wore silence like armor.
“She’s accelerating,” Tosin said, scrolling through surveillance clips. “Scrambling too many endpoints. She’ll find out about the transfer soon.”
Chuka leaned forward. “Let her.”
Tosin’s brow furrowed. “Are you serious?”
“I want her to know. I need her angry. If she runs, she’ll lead us to the backup servers.”
“You're playing with a fire you don’t understand, Chuka.”
“I married the fire.”
A long pause.
“Then we better move before she becomes the blaze.”
Amara stood in front of her wardrobe mirror, watching her reflection—not to fix her hair or makeup, but to rehearse the lie.
She walked out of the house at 9:04 a.m. sharp, kissed Chuka goodbye, and headed to a café in Ikeja.
Then doubled back.
She slipped through a side alley, changed clothes in a public restroom, and took a Keke Napep to an old tech library downtown—an abandoned startup hub where Lagos’ ghost coders still whispered through faulty routers and stripped-down machines.
There, she met her old mentor—Dayo.
Half-hacker, half-legend, and fully off-grid.
“Project EUNOMA,” he said, exhaling like the name itself was a toxin. “You told me you deleted it.”
“I thought I did.”
Dayo nodded slowly. “Then the system wants to remember what you tried to make it forget.”
She handed him a drive.
“I need to know who’s behind the breach.”
“I’ll trace it. But it’ll echo back. Whoever this is—they want a chase.”
“They’ll get one.”
Back at home, Chuka’s phone lit up with a message.
Incoming transfer complete.
He tapped twice, verifying the final phase of his offshore dump. EUNOMA wasn’t just software anymore—it was currency. A weaponized asset. And buyers were circling like vultures.
Only one thing stood in the way.
Amara.
His wife.
The genius.
The mistake.
That night, Amara stared at the ceiling while the storm raged outside. She didn’t flinch when the lightning cracked or when her inbox pinged at 1:32 a.m.
Subject: “Crow.”
Attachment: Audio file.
She clicked play.
It was Tosin’s voice.
> “If we wait too long, she’ll destroy everything.”
> “She won’t,” Chuka replied. “I’ve studied her. She’ll try to out-code me.”
> “And if she outsmarts you?”
> “Then she’ll die in the blaze she built.”
The audio ended.
Her hands tightened into fists.
So that was their plan.
Steal EUNOMA.
Sell it.
Erase her.
She activated the failsafe drive: The Crow Protocol. An old surveillance AI she built during her final year of school—designed to learn and predict human betrayal patterns through voice and tone.
It pulsed alive with data, churning algorithms.
“Welcome back,” it whispered through her speaker. “Target profile?”
“Chuka. Tosin. Anyone linked to the EUNOMA files. Cross-reference with the name: Codename Obsidian Halo.”
Processing…
Result: Match found.
Location: Ilashe. Private villa.
Amara blinked.
Ilashe was where Chuka had said he was “building a wellness retreat” for stress relief.
It was where the transfer was happening.
It was where this entire betrayal began.
She packed a go-bag.
Power banks. Burner phones. Fake IDs. Flash drives.
Her world had burned before.
This time, she’d light the match
To be continued…