____________________________________
"Your brother is so overprotective. Like worse than your dad."
— Jana Aston.
____________________________________
"The use of violence is justified only under a tyranny which makes reforms without violence impossible, and should have only one aim, that is, to bring about a state of affairs which makes reforms without violence possible."
— Karl Popper
____________________________________
Aysha Amad's Monologue
Where to begin.
Siblings… ugh. They're happiness wrapped in chaos, gift-boxed like love, then lobbed straight into your childhood like a grenade.
I grew up with 3 brothers.
Three.
I'm the only girl—the 3rd born.
Imagine it, 2 older brothers, and then a younger one. In that kind of house, you don't grow up—you survive. You either toughen up or get swallowed whole. My mom tried, bless her heart. She wanted a princess. Dresses, softness, protection.
But there's only so much a mother can do in a house ruled by testosterone.
They toughened me physically. Bruises, scraped knees, endurance—I have those.
Emotionally? Not a chance. Boys don't do emotions. They don't talk, they don't explain, they don't comfort. They act.
And one thing they all have in common?
They're overprotective.
Painfully so.
No matter what happens, my brothers come charging in like an army that never sleeps. They pretend they don't interfere in my life, but they do. Always watching. Always hovering. Like surveillance drones waiting for the next poor soul who dares step too close.
When I was thirteen, a boy in my class liked me.
A normal girl might think, aww, cute.
Not me.
He showed it the stupid way—pulling pranks. Hiding my books. Slipping "Kick Me" signs onto my back. Once, he even taped Call Me Stupid to my chair.
Sadiq and Safyan found out.
What happened to him?
Well…they beat him up, forced him to write me a 450-word apology letter. Handwritten. And after that, he couldn't even look me in the eyes without shaking.
That was my first lesson.
Even when my brothers say they're not interfering, they are. From a distance. From the shadows. Always alert.
If they ever found out I had a boyfriend?
They'd slap the smile off his cute face and send him home crying.
So I hid him.
I hid Amar from them.
Like my life depends on it.
Two days ago, Sadiq asked me about Tahir.
Why I was always around him.
Why I copied notes for him.
Was he my boyfriend?
I almost choked.
I laughed it off, told him Tahir was nothing. Just my seatmate. Just a friend.
Sadiq looked at me for a long moment, then said,
"The moment Tahir starts disturbing you—tell me. I'll beat that sleazy attitude out of him."
Sadiq doesn't joke.
Sadiq doesn't warn twice.
That's when it hit me.
If he ever discovered I was secretly dating Amar from SS1 Beta…
He wouldn't just beat Amar.
He'd beat me too.
It's getting riskier every day.
Every smile feels dangerous.
Every message feels like a ticking clock.
But one day… one day I'll stand up to them.
I'll be my own boss.
I'll live my life on my own terms.
I am Aysha Amad—
I survived growing up with 3 brothers.
Surely…
I can handle anything.
______________________
Tahir's POV
The next Piece on the Board.
Tahir crossed the campus with a single thought looping endlessly in his mind
Aysha Amad… it's time you serve your purpose.
She had no idea how valuable she was—at least, not to him.
To her, he was just a quiet friend. Distant. Observant. Occasionally unsettling, but harmless.
She didn't know she was the younger sister of two of the most influential students in C.A.A.
She didn't know that through her, doors would open—doors Tahir needed open.
What he wanted was simple.
A handle. A number. A social media handle
Isham's social media handle.
In other to identity of C.A.A.'s Shadow.
His prime suspect was Isham.
But suspicion meant nothing without proof.
And Tahir never moved without certainty.
Even if she isn't, she might know something, with her being the mother of all gossips and all.
Aysha was the key.
He adjusted his path toward the library—her usual refuge, her predictable routine.
He never made it there.
________________
The Ambush
Tahir headed straight for the library.
If Aysha Amad was anywhere on campus, there was a good chance she would be there.
Books were her refuge.
Her battlefield. Her hiding place.
The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the walkways as Tahir moved through the nearly deserted school grounds, hands buried in his pockets.
Then he stopped.
Five figures stood directly in his path.
Jamil.
Malik.
And three other ARC students.
They spread out without saying a word, forming a loose circle around him.
A trap.
Tahir glanced around once.
No students. No teachers. No security personnel. No cameras. A blind spot.
One of three blind spots in C.A.A.
He had discovered all of them during his first week while scouting the campus.
His expression remained completely blank.
No fear. No surprise. Nothing.
Just quiet observation.
"Hmm..." Tahir tilted his head slightly. "What do you want, Malik?"
Before Malik could answer, Jamil stepped forward.
"To beat the heck out of you."
"Ah."
Tahir nodded slowly.
"I see."
His gaze drifted across the five of them.
"Hmm... I don't think this is going to be a fair fight."
Jamil laughed. A cruel, eager laugh.
"You think we give a damn?" he said. "You humiliated A.R.C. Now you're going to pay for your little victory."
Tahir's eyes remained calm.
"No."
He shook his head.
"That's not what I meant."
The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"It's not fair for the 5 of you." Tahir added while a flash of memories of the rigorous training he had during the Optimum Human program ran through his mind.
Silence.
Then Jamil grinned.
"Wow."
He cracked his knuckles.
"You're even more arrogant than they said."
His grin widened.
"I'm going to enjoy this."
Without warning, he threw a punch.
Fast. Heavy.
Tahir leaned backward.
The fist missed.
Jamil immediately followed with another punch.
Tahir jumped back two steps.
Missed again.
Jamil growled and lunged forward.
This time he swung his leg in a vicious kick.
Tahir dropped into a squat.
The kick sliced through empty air.
For a split second, Jamil stood balanced on one foot.
Exposed. Open.
Tahir moved.
His leg swept low.
Jamil's support leg vanished beneath him.
The Head Boy crashed onto his back.
His skull struck the ground with a sickening thud.
Before he could recover—
THUD.
Tahir's foot buried itself into his stomach.
Jamil folded instantly.
Air exploded from his lungs.
"AAGHHH!"
He rolled across the floor.
Tahir followed him. Calmly. Mercilessly.
Then he stepped down. Crunch.
Jamil screamed.
Tahir's shoe was grinding against his fingers.
"AAAHHHHH!"
Tahir looked down at him. Expressionless.
"That's for Mustyy."
His voice remained calm. A pause.
"And the goalkeeper."
____________________
Chaos in the Corridor
The other three A.R.C students rushed him at once.
They expected him to retreat.
He charged instead.
The first two swung together, trying to trap him.
Tahir bent backward in a sudden, fluid motion—his upper body nearly parallel to the floor—as their fists sliced above him.
At the same instant, his own fists drove forward.
Both boys doubled over, air ripped from their lungs.
The third hesitated.
One second too long.
Tahir kicked forward with both feet, launching him backward. The boy slammed into the wall and crumpled.
The first two tried to stand.
Tahir rose with them.
Both his elbows came down onto their hunched backs, simultaneously—brutal, precise.
They crashed face-first into the floor.
Four bodies lay scattered across the corridor, groaning, broken, unmoving.
Including A.R.C's head boy.
_________
Only One Left
The corridor went silent.
Only two people remained standing.
Tahir.
And Malik.
The air between them tightened, thick with consequence.
Malik's eyes flicked from body to body—clutching stomachs, twisted fingers, shattered pride.
Fear crept into his face.
If he ran, A.R.C would never forgive him.
If he stayed, he might end up just like them.
Frozen. Panting. Unmoving.
Tahir watched him with a flat, emotionless stare.
No threat. No taunt. Just waiting.
Malik swallowed hard.
The question hung between them—heavy, inevitable:
Would he fight?
Or would he run?
_________________
Aysha Amad at the library
DURING A.R.C VS. C.A.A FOOTBALL MATCH
I was buried in the library—the farthest building from the pitch—and still, the noise found me.
The crowd screamed like animals, raw and feral, the sound echoing through concrete and glass.
A part of me wanted to run out and watch.
But exams were coming. Senior section, first term. First impressions mattered. Grades mattered. School currency points mattered. Survival mattered.
So I stayed.
About 90 minutes later, the screaming didn't die down.
It grew.
"C.A.A! C.A.A! C.A.A!"
That chant meant only one thing.
C.A.A had somehow defeated A.R.C.
About 20 minutes later, when I finally left the library, sunlight hit my eyes—and so did a familiar voice.
Someone was waving at me.
One of C.A.A's most recognizable football player.
My brother.
Sadiq.
"Heyyyy, little sis—Little Miss Bookwormingham!" he boomed, towering over me.
Of course he was towering. SS3 Alpha's most tallest student. Best defender in the school. Walking confidence wrapped in muscle and noise.
"With the screams echoing across campus," I said dryly, "I kinda figured."
He laughed. "Yeah, yeah. But guess who won the match for us?"
He leaned closer, nudging me with his elbow.
"That guy you hang around with."
I blinked. "Which guy?"
"Don't act dumb," he said. "Tahir."
I froze—just for a second.
"He… played?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
Sadiq's grin widened. "And you're blushing."
He pointed straight at my cheeks.
"I'm not," I snapped. "I'm just happy we won. That's all."
"Sure," he said, amused. Then his tone shifted—soft, but dangerous in that familiar way.
"Just be careful, okay? Don't let him break your heart."
He leaned closer.
"Or I'll break him."
I lifted my chin. "I can take care of myself. And he could never break my heart."
"If you say so. Little Aysha got a boyfriend huh" he said teasingly.
He invited me to celebrate with the team in the cafeteria.
I declined.
After he left, I stood there for a long moment, the noise of the campus washing over me, one thought circling my mind like a secret smile.
This is perfect.
Sadiq wasn't suspicious of Tahir.
In fact—he approved.
He thought Tahir and I liked each other.
Which meant one thing.
I could use Tahir as my fake boyfriend…
to protect my real boyfriend—Amar.
All I needed now was Tahir's agreement.
And that…
That was going to be hard.
But I had already sent him a text earlier, I should just go look for him I guess.
Or maybe he might come looking for me.
Let me just finish up with this particular math problems then I will go.
______________________
MEANWHILE — TAHIR VS. MALIK
Tahir stood face-to-face with Malik.
Four A.R.C students lay scattered across the corridor floor—groaning, clutching ribs, fingers, stomachs. Even the Head Boy of A.R.C was down, reduced to labored breaths and muted pain.
Malik was the only one still standing.
Barely.
His chest rose and fell violently, sweat streaking down his face, eyes darting between Tahir and the broken bodies behind him.
"Tahir…" Malik panted, forcing the words out. "Do you think you'll get away with this? When the school finds out—"
"No cameras here," Tahir interrupted calmly.
"No witnesses."
He glanced briefly at all the corners, already mapped in his head.
Then he looked directly into Malik's eyes.
"And who exactly" he continued evenly "Is going to believe that 1 student beat up 5 others?"
His voice was almost amused.
"The school authorities aren't that stupid."
Malik clenched his fists. "Then good."
He settled into a fighting stance.
Malik's jaw clenched.
He had waited for this moment since after the fountain fight. No since they were 9. Every loss. Every humiliation. Every shadow Tahir cast over him. Every time MiMie showed more care towards Tahir than him. And even worse, Tahir stole Ayrah from him. His heart started boiling, his breath became heavy, like steam coming out of his nose.
"Then good."
He settled into a fighting stance.
"I've wanted this fight since we were kids."
With a yell, he charged.
Fast.
A few feet away, he jumped.
His right leg swung toward Tahir's head.
Tahir sidestepped.
Barely.
The kick missed.
The moment Malik landed—
BAM.
Tahir's foot slammed into his left side.
Directly into his ribs.
Malik's eyes widened.
The breath vanished from his body.
He staggered.
Another kick landed immediately.
The pain exploded through his torso.
Veins bulged across his forehead.
His mouth opened. Nothing came out.
His body desperately searched for air.
"T-Ta…" His knees buckled.
"Tah…"
He fell forward. "Sahirrr…"
Before he hit the ground, Tahir grabbed him by the neck. Pulled him upright.
Their eyes met. "Hmm." Tahir studied him.
Almost curiously.
"Poor Malik."
His grip tightened. "Didn't I tell you?"
His voice was soft. "If we ever fought…"
A pause. "The outcome would never be in your favor."
Something snapped inside Malik. Anger. Humiliation. Hatred.
He struggled violently. Trying to break free.
Tahir released him.
Then— SLAP.
The sound echoed through the entire courtyard.
Malik's head snapped sideways. His body followed. He crashed onto the ground.
Tahir stared down at him.
"You tried to slap MiMie yesterday."
Another kick.
THUD.
"Did you think I'd let that go?"
THUD. Another kick.
THUD. Again.
Malik curled into himself.
"Damnnnn youuu…" His voice cracked.
"Ooouchhh…"
The sound of his pain echoing through out the yard.
Around them, the others lay helpless.
All five ARC students were now lying on the ground. Broken. Groaning.
Unable to stand.
Jamil tried to push himself up, teeth clenched, rage burning through the pain.
Tahir noticed immediately.
Tahir turned toward him. He walked over.
Slowly. "Hmm…" He crouched slightly.
"What do we have here?"
Jamil glared at him.
"The mighty Head Boy of A.R.C?" Tahir said mockingly.
A kick landed in his stomach. Jamil collapsed again. Tahir stepped over him.
Brushed dust from his hands.
Then shoved both hands back into his pockets.
As if none of it mattered.
As if this had merely been an inconvenience.
He started walking away.
Then stopped.
A strange feeling crawled up his spine.
Someone was watching.
Tahir turned. Three floors above. A window.
The Drama Club hall. Standing there was Sadeeqah. Holding a camera.
Pointed directly at him. For a moment neither moved.
Then Sadeeqah quickly snapped the camera shut.
A mischievous smile spread across her face. A very dangerous smile.And Tahir immediately knew.
She had seen everything.
Recorded everything.
Yet somehow…
He didn't look worried. Not even a little.
He simply stared at her for a second longer.
Then turned away and continued toward the library.
He walked away calmly.
Behind him, five A.R.C students lay broken. In pain.
And above him, someone now knew too much.
Sadeeqah smiling behind the glass.
And from the look in her eyes—
She was already planning something. Far more troublesome than the fight itself.
In the distance, through the library windows, Tahir finally spotted Aysha.
She sat alone. Lost in thought.
Completely unaware that chaos had just unfolded only minutes away.
______________________
Sadeeqah's POV
Sadeeqah stared down from the third-floor window, her pulse racing.
Gotcha, Tahir.
A slow smile crept across her face as she tightened her grip on the camera.
I recorded most of it.
She still couldn't quite believe what she'd witnessed.
With her own eyes.
It had started as a completely ordinary trip back to school. She had only come to retrieve a notebook she'd accidentally left behind the previous day.
Nothing special. Nothing important.
Or so she thought.
Then she heard a scream.
Curious, she had rushed toward the window.
And what she saw froze her in place.
Tahir.
Standing over Jamil.
Calmly stepping on his fingers while the Head Boy of ARC screamed in pain.
The memory sent a shiver through her.
Such cruelty…
At first, she'd been ready to run and call for help. She really had.
But something stopped her. Something about Tahir's expression. Or rather…
His complete lack of one.
No rage. No panic. No excitement. Nothing.
Just cold, calculated certainty.
So instead of running for help, she'd stayed.
Watched. Observed. And eventually…
Started recording.
Every second that followed only made her more fascinated.
Tahir…
Her smile widened.
I never told you this, but I always get what I want.
Always.
It didn't matter how long it took.
It didn't matter who stood in her way.
Sooner or later, she got exactly what she wanted. And right now?
She wanted Tahir. Not romantically.
Not entirely.
She wanted him for the upcoming drama production.
The one thing he'd stubbornly refused every single time she asked.
The male lead. The perfect male lead.
And now she finally had leverage.
She lightly tapped the camera against her palm.
I'm going to blackmail you with this.
The thought delighted her.
Let's see how long you keep saying "no" after this.
A mischievous spark danced in her eyes.
There is no escape, Tahir.
Her smile became almost villainous.
And nobody says "no" to Sadeeqah and then lives peacefully afterward.
Below, Tahir suddenly stopped walking.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Sadeeqah instinctively snapped the camera shut.
Yet even after being caught…
Tahir didn't react. No shock. No anger.
No concern. Nothing.
He simply looked at her.
Expressionless.
As though being recorded beating up 5 students was a minor inconvenience.
That bothered her.
Because it wasn't normal. Most people would panic. Most people would at least look worried. Tahir just stared.
Then turned around. And walked away.
As if none of it mattered.
As if he already knew something she didn't.
Sadeeqah's smile faltered for half a second.
Then returned.
Fine.
She crossed her arms.
Act mysterious all you want.
Soon enough, he'd have no choice but to listen to her.
After all…
She had the evidence.
And Tahir had no idea what kind of trouble she could create with it.
Or so she believed.
Meanwhile, Tahir continued toward the library without looking back.
A few moments later, he spotted Aysha through the large glass windows.
She was seated alone. Lost in thought.
Completely unaware that a small war had just ended only minutes away.
______________________
TAHIR & AYSHA — LIBRARY
Aysha didn't notice Tahir at first.
She sat at her usual table, chin resting in her palm, eyes unfocused on an open textbook. Her mind was clearly somewhere else—far from formulas and footnotes.
Tahir stopped beside her.
"Just the guy I'm looking for," Aysha said suddenly, without looking up.
Tahir raised an eyebrow. "Why would you be looking for me?"
She glanced up now, eyes bright. "I just hear that you helped C.A.A win."
He shrugged lightly. "Sort of. Mustyy broke his forearm though."
Her expression changed instantly. "What—seriously? Is he okay?"
"He was taken to the emergency room. He is going to be fine."
Aysha exhaled, relieved but shaken. "I'll visit him after school."
"Then we will go together then." Tahir replied.
A pause followed. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"I have a question for you."
Tahir didn't hesitate.
"About Saleem and Isham," he said. "Are they dating?"
Aysha blinked, then laughed softly. "Yes. Why?"
"No reason," Tahir replied.
A lie.
Aysha studied his face for a second, then folded her arms.
"If you want to know more about my cousin brother's dating life," she said, "you will owe me a favor."
"No."Tahir replied quickly
She frowned. "But I need one. At least hear me out."
"Hmm… fine but no promises" Tahir said immediately.
She rolled her eyes. "Relax. I want you to be my fake boyfriend."
Tahir blinked once.
"Hmm…No."
She groaned. "Please. My brother approves of you. He cannot find out who my real boyfriend is."
"Your brother's approval means nothing to me," Tahir said flatly.
"But it means everything to me."
That gave him pause.
He sighed quietly. "…And your real boyfriend? What if he gets jealous. What if he tries to fight me?, Have you spoken to him about this."
"No… not yet, but I will" Aysha said "Don't worry, it won't be a problem to him, he won't get jealous, he understands my situation very well."
Tahir sighed "Hmm… you know I'm lazy. I don't enjoy confrontation." He stood straight and turned to look at the window.
"I don't want a situation where the guy becomes aggressive and threatened me, I might look it but I will beat him up if he decides to attack me."
"Hahahha. Are you serious ?, You, Tahir? Beat up Amar ? You are not serious…" Aysha said mockingly, while seizing him up.
"Hmm… I guess not then… but I still don't want any confrontations with your guy" Tahir replied.
"He won't," Aysha said quickly. "I'll explain everything to him."
Tahir studied her for a long moment—calculating, weighing risk against reward.
Then he nodded once.
"Fine," he said. "But I want something in return."
Her eyes lit up. "Anything."
"I want every detail about Isham," Tahir said calmly.
"Habits. Friends. Her gossip networks. Social media handles. Everything."
Then Tahir added "And don't ask why. I will explain in few days" He paused. "And the other promise you made, about the details you have on the shadows and previous expulsions, I need you bring it tomorrow"
Aysha hesitated—just for a second—then nodded. "Deal."
Aysha quickly thought,
Tahir are you still going on with finding the league of the 9 shadows ?.
Are you suspecting Isham ?
Or are you just trying to access her vast gossip network.
Either way, observing you quietly will be intriguing to me.
Let's see how far you can go with such intelligence you possess.
While Aysha and Tahir sat quietly.
Neither of them noticed the shadow behind the library pillar.
Someone had been listening the entire time.
____________________
AT THE LIBRARY
— THE SHADOW BEHIND THE PILLAR
The library was unusually quiet.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, dust motes floating lazily in the air. Pages turned softly. Pens scratched paper. To anyone watching, Tahir and Aysha looked like nothing more than two students having a hushed conversation.
But they weren't alone.
Behind the third pillar from the east wall—half-hidden by shelves of outdated encyclopedias—Afreen stood completely still.
She had arrived earlier, not to study.
To observe.
Her posture was relaxed, almost careless, but her eyes were sharp—tracking every movement, every pause, every shift in tone between Tahir and Aysha. She didn't need to hear everything. Fragments were enough.
Fake boyfriend.
Brother approves.
Real boyfriend.
Isham.
Shadows
Expulsion
Afreen's lips curved—not into a smile, but something thinner. Sharper.
Interesting.
So Tahir wasn't just dangerous on the field. He was weaving himself into people's lives. Carefully. Quietly. Using proximity instead of force. And shadows ?, expulsion?. Is he trying to go after the league of 9 ?. He is getting more and more interesting then.
And Aysha Amad…
That was an unexpected card.
Afreen remembered how judgmental she was regarding what happened to her best friend's brother.
Afreen filed the information away instantly, arranging it like pieces on a chessboard.
Leverage didn't need to be used immediately.
It only needed to exist.
_____________
Tahir noticed
Tahir felt it. Not a sound. Not movement.
Pressure.
That faint prickle at the base of his neck—the sensation he'd learned to trust long ago. Someone was watching.
Not Sadeeqah.
Sadeeqah's presence was loud even when she was silent—reckless, emotional, impulsive.
This gaze was different.
Cold. Measured. Patient.
Tahir didn't look around.
Instead, he sat down and then leaned back in his chair slightly, stretching like a bored student, and let his eyes drift lazily across the ceiling.
So… you're here.
He replayed his words in his mind. Everything he had said. Everything Aysha had revealed.
None of it critical. None of it irreversible.
Just enough to bait.
Let's see how greedy you are.
If the Shadow acted now—too fast—it would confirm suspicion.
If they waited—hoarded the information—it meant discipline.
Either way, they would move.
And when they did…
They would expose their hand.
__________________
Afreen noticed the shift.
Not in his face—but in the air around him. Tahir had gone still in that peculiar way intelligent people did when they became aware of something they refused to acknowledge.
Her eyes narrowed.
He knows.
That made things far more interesting.
Most people panicked when they realized they were being watched.
Tahir didn't.
He invited it.
Afreen stepped back into the shadows, soundless, already rewriting her next move.
Test me if you want, she thought coolly.
I don't bluff.
_________________
At the table, Aysha gathered her books.
"So… fake boyfriend, huh?" she said lightly. "You don't look thrilled."
Tahir stood, expression unreadable.
"I'm not," he replied. "But this will be… efficient."
He glanced once—casually—toward the pillar.
Nothing there.
But the game had already begun.
And Tahir smiled faintly.
Good, he thought.
Come at me. Let's see how far the Shadow dares to go.
_____________________
LIBRARY — PARTING LINES
Aysha slid her books into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. The tension from earlier had thinned, but it hadn't vanished—just settled into something quieter, watchful.
"So," she said, turning to him, "are we done here, fake boyfriend?"
Tahir stood and adjusted his sleeve. "Almost."
She raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"I need another favor."
Aysha groaned softly. "You're stacking them now?"
"Just one," he said calmly. "Wake me up after the Elite Quiz is over."
She paused mid-step. "Wake you up?"
"Yes."
Aysha stared at him. "You're not attending the quiz, again.?"
"No."
"…Why not?"
Tahir didn't answer immediately. He started walking toward the exit, forcing her to follow if she wanted answers. After a few steps, he spoke.
"I already know the outcome."
Aysha stopped walking.
"You what?"
He glanced back at her, eyes unreadable. "Exactly what I said."
Her curiosity flared instantly. "Then tell me. Who will be at the top? A.R.C? C.A.A? A.U.N? Does Afreen—"
"No."
That single word shut the door completely.
Aysha folded her arms. "You can't just say that and expect me to drop it."
"I can," he replied. "And I will."
She scoffed. "You're impossible."
"No I am just Tired," Tahir corrected. "Very tired."
Tahir stopped and said "Just watch MiMie, she will surprise everyone today"
"What do you mean?" Aysha asked curiously
"Have you heard the name 'The Monster of all Shades'? 'The Motherboard of Basic knowledge' ?" Tahir replied with two questions as he turned to look at Aysha
"Hmm.." Aysha lost in thought for a second "No I don't think so"
"Hmm… well. Just observe MiMie today" Tahir said lazily as he continued walking.
They reached the corridor outside the library. The noise from the campus had grown louder—students moving toward the quiz hall, voices buzzing with anticipation.
"I burned through my energy on the football pitch," Tahir continued. "Sitting through the quiz would be a waste. I need somewhere quiet."
Aysha frowned. "So where are you going?"
"The Super Elite VIP Lounge."
Her eyes widened. "You can't just—"
"I can," he interrupted gently. "I have a key card."
She stared at him again. "From where?"
He slipped his hands into his pockets, casual.
"Sadiq gave it to me earlier."
The effect was immediate.
Aysha's expression changed—not dramatically, not loudly—but enough for Tahir to catch it. Her shoulders stiffened. Her eyes dropped for half a second too long.
A shadow passed through her.
Tahir noticed.
And pretended he didn't.
"Oh," she said. "Right. Sadiq."
"Yes."
There was a silence between them—short, but heavy.
Aysha thought. With a serious face
Damn it, Sadiq has already marked him.
He is going to keep observing him. Not just Sadiq. I bet Safyan also.
Why can't I just hang out with whoever I like, without my brothers interfering.
That's so messed up.
Tahir watched her carefully now, cataloguing the reaction without judgment. Whatever was going on between Aysha and her brother wasn't simple. It wasn't just overprotectiveness. It's a control situation.
But that was not his move to make.
Not yet.
"Just wake me when it's over," Tahir said, breaking the silence. "That's all."
Aysha nodded slowly. "Fine. Don't blame me if I wake you up rudely."
"I expect nothing less."
She turned to leave, then hesitated. "You're really not worried? About… everything?"
Tahir met her gaze.
"No. You'll be fine."
She frowned. "You sound very sure."
"I am."
Because deep down, he knew it.
Aysha Amad was stronger than she believed. Stronger than the cage her brothers had built around her. Stronger than the fear she lived with.
But strength like that didn't awaken gently.
It needed impact. Something big.
Something that cracked perspective wide open.
Not today, Tahir thought as he watched her walk away.
But soon.
For now, he would observe.
Choices always revealed everything in the end.
Tahir turned in the opposite direction, key card already warm in his pocket, and headed toward the Super Elite VIP Lounge—toward silence, rest… and the next phase of the game.
____________________
CHECKMATE IN MOTION
Tahir had gotten exactly what he needed.
The conversation. The reactions. The gaps in behavior.
Later tonight, he would hack Saleem and Isham's accounts. Through Isham, he can spy on almost everyone in C.A.A
He had been suspicious of them for a while now—ever since they somehow uncovered fragments of information that should never have been connected so easily: him, MiMie, Malik, Jamil, Jamal.
That alone made them dangerous.
But what unsettled him most was who they hadn't uncovered.
They missed one name. The most dangerous one of all.
Afreen.
Whether by ignorance or intention, that omission mattered.
It meant someone was blind…
or someone was protecting her.
Either way, Tahir would find out.
When Tahir turned toward the lobby leading to the VIP lounge, to go and nap during the Quiz, his movements were unhurried, almost lazy.
Aysha headed in the opposite direction, toward the Great Hall—her thoughts elsewhere, unaware of how a cold and dangerous set of eyes were already following her choices.
Afreen is watching her.
__________________
THE QUEEN BEE AND THE SPIDER
It was 1:51 PM.
Only 9 minutes remained before the second round of the Elite Quiz Competition.
Aysha Amad was already heading toward the Great Hall, mentally preparing herself for the upcoming battle of knowledge.
Tahir, on the other hand, had entirely different plans.
He was heading toward the café.
More specifically, the Super Elite VIP lounge inside the café.
His intention was simple.
Sleep.
Even twenty minutes of rest was valuable.
As he walked across the quiet pathway between buildings, a familiar feeling settled over him.
Someone was following him.
Tahir turned right at a corner, taking a shortcut toward the café.
The footsteps continued.
Still behind him. He stopped walking.
Without turning around, he spoke.
"Hmm… Hey, Queen Bee."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Are you stalking me now?"
Behind him came an offended gasp.
"Ehm… you make it sound like you have eyes on the back of your head." Sadeeqah said.
Tahir finally turned around.
"Not really." He shrugged. "I saw you when I was turning the corner."
"Oh." Sadeeqah blinked. "Okay…"
For a moment she looked slightly disappointed.
Then she quickly regained her confidence.
"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about what I saw earlier."
She reached inside her backpack and pulled out something.
A camera.
Tahir's eyes briefly landed on it.
Then moved away.
"There's nothing to talk about."
His tone remained indifferent.
"You saw what you saw."
Sadeeqah frowned. "I recorded it."
She raised the camera slightly. "The entire fight." Her smile returned. "And you're in a lot of trouble if the school authorities get their hands on this."
"Hmm." Tahir nodded thoughtfully. "Is that so?"
"Of course it is."She folded her arms. "Bullying isn't tolerated in this school."
A pause.
"And I'd hate to see you expelled from one of the 9 Elites."
"Hmm…" Tahir pretended to consider her words. "You might be right." Then he looked directly at her. "So what now?"
His expression didn't change. "Are you going to report me?"
Sadeeqah smiled.
The smile of someone convinced they held all the cards. "Well…" She drew the word out dramatically. "That depends."
Tahir waited.
She pressed forward anyway. "You're going to do what I say. You'll play the male lead in my drama. The one you confidently auditioned but wanted a background character. I want you to be the Male lead. No excuses. No disappearing acts. Or this goes straight to the Director."
Tahir exhaled slowly. Not frustrated. Amused. "…Fine," he said.
Just like that.
Her shoulders loosened. Victory flickered across her eyes — brief, but real.
"Good," she said. "I knew you'd understand reason."
He stepped closer. Not invading her space.
Just enough to make her aware of him.
"But," Tahir continued softly, "before you celebrate… let's talk about what's actually in that video."
Her smile froze.
He nodded toward the phone. "Five A.R.C students. One C.A.A student. No cameras. No witnesses. And a very convenient angle."
Her grip tightened.
"Hmm… Sadeeqah."
Something about his voice made her pause.
"You don't actually think that recording will get me into trouble, do you?"
The smile slowly vanished from her face.
Tahir continued. "If anything…"
His voice remained calm.
"It will get those A.R.C students into trouble."
Sadeeqah's confidence faltered.
"They attacked me." He glanced over his shoulder. "Five against one."
His eyes met hers. "Anyone who watches that recording will see exactly that."
Her grip tightened around the camera.
Tahir continued.
"You think the administration won't ask why A.R.C's Head Boy and four others were lying unconscious?" Tahir asked. "Why they were in a blind corridor? Why no one reported it immediately?"
She swallowed.
"Because from where I'm standing," he went on, voice even, "it looks less like an assault… and more like an ambush that failed."
Silence.
Her confidence cracked — just a hairline fracture — but he saw it.
"The moment you hand that recording over to the authorities…"
A pause.
"ARC could be disqualified."
His gaze sharpened.
"And at most?"
A shrug.
"I'll receive a warning."
Silence.
The realization began creeping into her mind.
Tahir wasn't trapped.
Not even close.
"So…" Tahir continued casually.
"My advice?"
He pointed toward the camera.
"Hide that recording."
Sadeeqah stared.
Confused.
Then Tahir delivered the final blow.
"For your own protection."
Her heart skipped.
"What?"
Tahir's expression remained unreadable.
"If you think I'm the only person who saw you standing at that window…"
A pause.
"Then you're gravely mistaken."
Sadeeqah's face lost all color.
Tahir watched the panic immediately begin forming.
Perfect.
"I suggest you find your boyfriend."
His voice remained calm.
"Jamal might be able to protect you from those ARC students."
"And if you submit it," he said, eyes steady, "you'll be dragged into it too. For filming instead of reporting. For withholding evidence. For blackmail."
Her breath stuttered.
"You didn't think this through," he said quietly.
She stared at him now — really stared.
"You're bluffing," she whispered.
Tahir smiled.
Not wide.
Not cruel.
Just knowing.
"If I were bluffing," he said, "you'd still be smiling."
Her hand shook.
He leaned back slightly, giving her space again — as if generous.
"Like I said, If you're scared," he continued, "go to Jamal. Show him the video. He'll protect you, right?"
The words landed like a blade.
"I let you think you had power."
That broke her.
Fear surged — raw, unmasked.
She lowered the camera
She thought of how brutal it will be if A.R.C confront her because of the video evidence. Even Jamal can't fight all of them alone.
"No—wait—" she started.
But Tahir had already turned away.
Without looking back. Without another word.Then, almost casually:
"Oh. And Sadeeqah?"
She froze.
"If you ever try to corner me again," he added softly,
"don't bring a weapon unless you know how to use it."
Sadeeqah stood frozen.
Her hands trembling.
Two minutes ago she thought she controlled the conversation.
Two minutes ago she believed she held absolute leverage.
Now?
Now she felt exposed. Vulnerable.
A target.
Her breathing became uneven.
The camera suddenly felt heavy in her hands.
What if Tahir was right?
What if someone had seen her?
What if A.R.C discovered she recorded everything?
What if they blamed her?
What if—
Fear exploded through her thoughts.
Without another second of hesitation, she turned and ran.
Straight toward Jamal. Looking for protection. Looking for answers.
Looking for someone to tell her everything would be okay.
She ran.
Footsteps echoing. Breathing uneven.
Exactly as he wanted.
From a distance, Tahir watched her disappear around a corner.
Then he smiled. A small smile. Barely noticeable. His bluff had worked perfectly.
Because the truth was simple.
Nobody had seen Sadeeqah recording the fight.
Not a single person.
Everyone present had either been fighting or lying on the ground in pain.
No one was looking at the third-floor window. No one. Tahir had gambled.
And won. Exactly as expected.
More importantly…
Sadeeqah would now do precisely what he wanted. She would run to Jamal.
And in doing so—
She would personally deliver the recording into Jamal's hands.
The very recording Tahir wanted him to see.
After what happened before the football match, Jamal had threatened him.
Threatened future revenge. Future fights. Future confrontations.
That recording would change everything.
Because once Jamal saw the outcome of a real fight involving Tahir…
He would understand. Threats were meaningless. He needs to more than threat against Tahir. He needs to get more power and more strength. He needs growth from his current state, weak and pathetic.
More importantly, Jamal would likely forbid Sadeeqah from getting involved with Tahir ever again.
And that was where the real game began.
Because from everything Tahir had observed about Sadeeqah…
She hated being told what to do.
The moment someone ordered her not to do something—
She became determined to do exactly that thing.
Especially if the order came from someone she cared about.
Especially if it came from Jamal.
A wedge. A tiny crack. That was all Tahir needed. Eventually the crack would widen.
Arguments. Misunderstandings. Frustrations. Distance. And perhaps…
A breakup.
Tahir adjusted the strap of his bag and continued toward the VIP lounge.
Expression blank. Game ongoing.
Tahir didn't slow his pace as he walked.
The corridor stretched ahead of him, quiet now, almost innocent—like nothing ugly had just unfolded inside it. His footsteps echoed softly, measured, unhurried.
Inside his mind, the board shifted.
The most talked-about couple in C.A.A.
The couple everyone gossiped about.
If they broke up, the rumor would spread through the Nine Elites like wildfire.
And where rumors traveled…
The Nine Shadows always listened.
Someone would react.
Someone would make a move.
Someone would expose themselves.
And when that happened—
Tahir would be waiting.
This wasn't just about Sadeeqah.
It never was.
This was another probe.
Another deliberate cut meant to make something hidden bleed.
Jamal and Sadeeqah were high-profile. Too visible. Too watched. A couple people believed in. The kind of relationship that attracted attention even when nothing was wrong.
Which made them perfect bait.
If they break up, Tahir thought, the Shadows will move.
They always did when something fractured in public. Rumors. Anonymous whispers. Edited screenshots. A slow poison meant to remind everyone how fragile reputations were—and how untouchable the ones pulling the strings remained.
And if Jamal and Sadeeqah somehow patched things up?
Same outcome.
The Shadows would still act. Maybe faster. Maybe louder. They would manufacture instability just to prove dominance. To show the so-called 10th Shadow that they were still in control.
That they could still turn love into fear.
Tahir exhaled quietly.
Of course…
This plan was flawed. Exquisitely flawed.
Because it relied on one unpredictable thing.
The human heart. And the heart obeyed no strategy.
No logic. No calculation.
For all he knew, Jamal and Sadeeqah might choose each other in the end.
They might argue.
Fight. Then reconcile.
People in love often did.
It's Fifty–fifty.
But if the Shadows expose themselves reacting to the chaos…
Or they trace it back to him.
At this rate, there was a real chance they'd find him first.
And that was unacceptable.
"So be it," he murmured under his breath.
If the Shadows wanted a war of nerves, he'd escalate.
Just in case this one failed.
Contingency plans, he thought. Plural.
He'd prepared for this long before sending that message. False trails. Layered identities. Decoy leaks seeded across different schools. Informants who didn't know they were informants. Triggers designed to activate only if certain rumors appeared in certain patterns.
If the Shadows moved—The net would tighten.
If they stayed silent—That silence would still speak.
He reached the doors to the VIP lounge and pushed them open, stepping into the cool, dim quiet inside.
For now, he would rest. Recover. Observe.
Let the board settle.
Make your move, he thought calmly, eyes narrowing just slightly.
I'm ready either way.
I will bring back the dream girl to this school. No matter what.