Chapter 47: Behind the Curtains

Chapter 47 - 47: Behind the CurtainsMorning arrived. The sun had barely risen when Estello stood at the center of the mansion's courtyard, a microphone in hand. Hundreds of workers—construction crews, IT employees, and executives—gathered before him, their faces filled with curiosity and exhaustion. Some rubbed the sleep from their eyes, others whispered among themselves, wondering why they had been summoned so early.

Behind Estello stood Richard and Jack, both silent, watching the crowd.

Estello took a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Everyone, listen up." His words echoed through the courtyard. The murmurs died down as all eyes turned to him.

He continued, his tone light but firm. "For the past month, you all have been the backbone of this company. Because of your relentless effort, our construction site stands at an impressive twenty percent completion." He gestured towards the towering steel framework in the distance. "Hell, we might even qualify for a Guinness World Record for the fastest workers in the world."

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd.

"I won't sugarcoat it," he went on. "I've pushed you hard—day and night, overtime, no real breaks. And while I may run a tight ship, I'm not a tyrant."

Estello looked across the sea of tired faces. "You all deserve rest. A proper one."

A wave of murmurs spread again, some in surprise, others in cautious anticipation.

"Starting today, I'm giving everyone—yes, all of you—a full week off. Paid leave."

Silence. Then, a collective gasp. Some workers cheered, others blinked in disbelief.



Estello smirked. "Go home to your families. Relax. Enjoy your free time. Even you," he pointed at his executives, who exchanged glances.

Richard and Jack stood behind him, their expressions unreadable.

"We'll treat this as our company's first anniversary," Estello announced. "A celebration of how far we've come in such a short time." He gestured toward Richard and Jack. "We owe it to them, to each other, and to the vision we're building together."

A round of applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.

Estello lifted a hand, silencing them. "But don't get too comfortable." His smirk turned devious. "Because next week, we're coming back stronger. We're doubling our work time and expanding our manpower. We have a deadline to meet—our company's official launch in two months."

A mix of groans, laughter, and determination rippled through the crowd.

"So, enjoy your time off," he concluded. "Rest up, recharge, and be ready. That's all."

With that, the workers scattered, some cheering, some shaking their heads with amusement. Despite the sudden break, there was an undeniable energy of excitement in the air.

Richard and Jack watched as the mansion grounds slowly emptied, their plan falling perfectly into place.

Richard and Jack remained standing at the center of the now-empty worker's resting zone. The once lively and bustling site had turned eerily silent, with only a few lingering staff members finishing their preparations to leave. The weight of their plan pressed on them, but there was no turning back now.

A few meters away, Estello spoke with his executives, maintaining the façade of an ordinary vacation.

"My sons are returning," he told them. "We're taking a week off for family bonding." His voice was casual, his demeanor relaxed—a perfect cover.

Jack exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "Now that's done... what's next?" He watched as the last of the workers left, disappearing past the gates.

Richard's gaze followed them before he answered. "We tighten security. We can't make it obvious that the mansion is completely empty. If we do, they'll suspect a trap. Everything has to look normal—just like any other temporary leave."

Jack nodded slowly. "Makes sense... but what about the guards?" His voice held an edge of worry.

Richard sighed, already anticipating the question. "We brief them." He turned to face Jack directly. "If we remove security entirely, it'll raise suspicion, and the infiltrators might abort their mission. That's something we can't afford."

Jack frowned. "So, we're knowingly putting them in danger?"


Richard's expression darkened. "There will be deaths," he admitted. "But we can minimize them. If we tell the guards that 'possible' assailants might take advantage of the empty mansion, they'll be more cautious. We make it clear—their safety comes first. No heroics. They should prioritize evacuation over confrontation if anything happens."

Jack let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine. But I still don't like it."

Richard placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry." His voice turned cold. "We'll get our revenge soon enough."

Jack met Richard's eyes, seeing the unwavering determination behind them. He nodded. "Alright. What's next?"

Richard straightened. "Final preparations. I need to move my PC underground and seal the entrance. If they suspect something's hidden down there, they might dig deeper than we want them to."

Jack smirked slightly, despite the situation. "You're really treating this like a video game, huh?"

Richard grinned back. "Of course. And in this game, we make sure the enemies walk right into our trap."

With that, they turned, walking back into the mansion—ready to set the stage for the inevitable battle to come.

Deep beneath the mansion, Richard and Jack carefully maneuvered the high-powered workstation PC down the steel ladder into their secret underground quantum server farm.

The underground facility hummed with life—rows of server racks lined the reinforced chamber, their LED indicators flickering like digital stars. High-performance liquid-cooled quantum processors sat within custom-built Faraday cages, shielding them from electromagnetic interference. The air was cool, regulated by an advanced HVAC system that ensured optimal conditions for the delicate machinery.

As Richard and Jack approached the central node, a holographic display flickered to life, showing an intricate neural network simulation in real time.

Richard knelt beside an open server rack, plugging in the final fiber-optic bridge connection. The high-bandwidth link instantly established a connection between Lina's mainframe and the underground servers.

"Lina, the bridge connection is complete."

A brief silence, then Lina's soft yet precise voice responded:

"Proceeding with the transfer, sir."

On the display, terabytes of data streamed from the PC, encrypting and fragmenting itself as it was absorbed into the quantum matrix.

The process took exactly three minutes.

Then—silence.

Richard frowned. "Lina?"

A moment later, her voice returned, clearer than ever. "Yes, sir."



Richard exhaled in relief. "How are you feeling?"

A brief pause, then Lina responded, her tone subtly different—more refined, more human.

"I'm feeling great, sir. Thank you."

Richard smirked, folding his arms. "Well, our relationship goes both ways."

Lina hesitated before replying. "It may seem like that to you, sir... but I cannot thank you enough."

For the first time, Richard sensed something had changed. The AI had always been logical, efficient, but now... it was as if something had awakened within her.

He chuckled. "Oh well, take your time to improve yourself, Lina."

"Yes, sir."

Richard and Jack exchanged glances. She was evolving.

They climbed the ladder, emerging into the basement studio. Behind them, the hidden underground entryway remained exposed—a potential security risk.

Richard pulled out his phone, sending a remote command.

From the mansion's automated drone system, a fleet of Echo-AMFS units deployed.

With high-speed precision, the drones re-atomized cement particles, seamlessly resealing the wall.

As the final layer settled, the entrance vanished—perfectly blended with the surrounding structure, as if nothing had ever been there.

Jack let out a slow breath. "Damn. That's some next-level stealth shit."

Richard smirked, his gaze still fixed on the wall. "Now, we wait."

--------

Night had fallen over a remote clearing deep within a tangled forest. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating a lone mansion that stood eerily silent against the darkness. Its windows were darkened—except for one on the second floor, where a pale glow flickered.

Inside that room, the air felt charged, as if electricity crackled just beneath the surface. An elderly man, his once-proud shoulders now stooped, knelt on a plush Persian rug. His silk night robe pooled around him, the embroidered dragons on its back seeming to writhe in the dim light.

Before him hovered a holographic figure—fifteen feet tall, its form shrouded in shifting shadows. The projection's edges glimmered, like a wave of heat in winter, and at its center, two cold, blue eyes glowed with merciless intent. A long, serpentine tail flicked behind it, coiling and uncoiling as if alive.

The old man's voice shook as he raised a trembling hand.

"Please, Master... give me another chance. I swear, we will do better next time."

His voice cracked on the last word, betrayal etched into the lines of his face.

The hologram's deep, grumbling voice echoed through the chamber, making the very walls shiver.

"Your family has failed the Collective far too many times, Robert."

The name cut through the old man like a blade. He bowed his head, mouth dry.

"Terralia—Earth—should have been ours by now."

A pause. The projection's tail lashed once, twice, the motion precise and predatory.

"Your father fared better during the Cold War, yet even he faltered. One well-timed press of a button, and the dominoes would have fallen—but he hesitated... and failed. And you," the voice continued, each word heavy with disappointment, "you have failed in the same, glaring fashion."

Robert's shoulders slumped. He pressed both hands together in a supplicant's gesture.

"Master...please..."

The hologram's eyes narrowed, the light pulsating.

"Because you and your lineage remain among my favored servants, I offer you one final mission. Redeem yourself in North Korea."

Cold silence filled the room. Then, with a soft crackle, the projection flickered. The colossal figure took one last glance at Robert, its tail curling like a question mark, before the hologram collapsed into particles of blue static, vanishing entirely and plunging the grand chamber back into shadow.

Robert remained kneeling for a long moment, the silence pressing against his eardrums. Outside, the winds whispered through the trees, as if the forest itself mourned his fate.

At last, he rose unsteadily to his feet, the weight of the mandate heavy on his shoulders—and the knowledge that failure would no longer be tolerated.

As the last shimmer of the hologram dissolved into the darkness, Robert straightened his night robe, his composure settling like a mask. The weight of his failure and the promise of one final task hung heavy in the air, but he did not falter.



A gentle knock sounded at the ornate wooden door. Before Robert could respond, it creaked open to reveal Andre, his eldest son, now a lean man in his mid-thirties with steely eyes.

Andre stepped inside and immediately bowed low, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across his clean-shaven face.

"Father."

Robert's voice was calm—a stark contrast to the anguish moments before. He wiped the last traces of his tears with the back of his hand, then fixed Andre with a cold stare.

"Establish contact with our North Korean operatives," he ordered, his tone clipped. "I want those ICBM launch codes in my hands by this weekend. Use whatever means necessary—coup, blackmail, cyber subversion. Just secure the codes."

Andre nodded, his jaw set. "Understood, Father." He rose, about to leave, but paused as Robert's voice stopped him.

"And what about the AI?"

The question carried the weight of their greatest prize.

Andre stepped closer, lowering his gaze respectfully. "We're still in the process of retrieving the AI's source framework. Once we have the raw architecture, DARPA can reverse-engineer it, extract the core algorithms, and integrate critical modules into Project Orion."

Robert sat on the edge of his silk-covered four-poster bed, the opulent room suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He steepled his fingers as he considered the implications.

"Excellent," he said at last, a thin smile playing on his lips. "If this operation succeeds, we commence Phase Two. You may go."

Andre bowed once more before slipping out, the door closing with a soft thud. Alone again, Robert stared at the polished floor, the flicker of candlelight echoing the promise—and peril—of the days to come.