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AIM: Chapter 20
Epilogue:
"Papa... what's going on???" (Asked Megan, as she slowly opened her eyes. Ting. Ting. Scanning complete.)
"You're awake..." (Banda said in a calm tone, his hands pressing a button on what appeared to be a certain machine that was connected to the bed Megan lay on.)
"Yeah..." (Megan said with a subtle nod.)
"I'm glad..." Banda said with a gentle tone, a calm smile... (Megan noticing the tears in his eyes.)
"Papa???"
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Chapter 20: An Artificial Girl's Take on Past Trauma
"You're finally awake," Mailo said in a hush tone, his eyes focused on his phone's screen, seated comfortably on a chair that stood next to Mumba's bed.
"Err??" Mumba muttered out, as her eyes began to scan the interior of the warm, silent room.
The atmosphere of the room was warm and silent. The walls were painted creamy white, complementing the slightly dark cream bedsheets and blankets on the bed Mumba lay on.
"How did I get here??" Mumba asked.
Mailo gave no response, for his eyes were gently focused on his phone's screen.
"Mailo," Mumba said below a whisper.
As the room's silence completely consumed the atmosphere, the only sound being that of the faint noise coming out of Mailo's phone, his face painted with the light coming from the screen.
"Silent treatment, huh??" Mumba said. "It's fine, be that way," she added.
But the silence stretched on for an oddly long time, so much so that it began to send a subtle sting to Mumba's chest, causing some sort of fogginess to stir up in her head.
"Hahahaha," Mailo broke the silence after letting out a loud laugh. "It's funny to see what the internet gets itself busy with these days," he said with an enthusiastic tone.
"Now you want to speak to me???" Mumba asked.
"Who said I didn't want to speak to you??" Mailo added.
"I was talking to you, but you weren't saying anything in response," Mumba added.
"I was watching reels," Mailo said.
"THAT'S THE REASON WHY YOU DIDN'T RESPOND?!" Mumba burst out.
"Yupp..." Mailo said in a casual tone.
"I SWEAR WHEN I GET UP FROM THIS BED I AM GONNA—" Mumba burst—
"Learn how to finally mind your own business," Mailo said in a baritone voice, sending a chill down Mumba's spine.
His eyes were sharp, cold, yet his smile was gentle and calm, his eyes directly looking into her, almost as if he was looking deep within her essence, her being.
Mumba, seeing this, simply turned her head away from him.
"Shut up... you don't know anything," Mumba said.
(Flashback: Megan's face.)
"If anything, Banda's the one with a problem. He seems to not be able to move on from the past," she said in a cold but hesitant tone.
"And where does that place you???" Mailo asked, his voice sending another chilling sensation down Mumba's spine. She clenched her fingers tightly as she held onto the blankets.
A cold silence lingered upon the surface of the room, and Mumba said nothing in response.
"Please... let me just sit to myself for a little," Mumba said.
Mailo, hearing this, simply stood up and walked toward the door. Opening it—
"I'll get back to you soon, my dear friend," Mailo said as he walked out of the room, gently closing the door.
"Ouch," Mumba said to herself, feeling a sudden lump in her throat and an uncomfortable sensation in her chest. She began to let out her tears as her hands tightly clenched the blankets.
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Meanwhile: (The school hall)
Tap, tap, tap, tap was the echoing sound of Ayan's footsteps in the hall, as she walked at a slow but quick pace, holding a laptop in her hand.
"Hii there," said two male students, who she quickly bypassed.
"That girl is so hot..." one said. "And tall too," the other added.
"I bet she's a supermodel," one said, causing Ayan to slightly flinch, taking a slow halt in her tracks. But quickly regaining her composure, she continued walking until the sound of her footsteps faintly echoed around the hall.
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Meanwhile: (Olympia Town, Banda's house)
(Chop, chop, chop.) Banda continuously chopped the onion, tomatoes, and carrots, mixing them up and throwing them into a round white bowl, further adding powdered garlic and some spices.
Turning on the stove and adding all the mixed ingredients onto a sizzling pan. (Shhhhhh was the sound of the frying.)
The air was filled with the aroma of the ingredients Banda mixed together. The aroma was so pleasant that it sent a warm, calm feeling to his chest—one that he'd only experienced during moments of calm in his life.
"Ahhh crap, we're out of mealie meal," he said upon opening the door to the food storage closet and looking inside.
"Does that mean no nshima today, paps?" Megan said as she suddenly appeared behind him.
"Megan!!" he said, a little startled.
"Ohhh, sorry," Megan said.
"Weren't you in the living room drawing something or something?" Banda said.
"Yeah, I was," Megan said, holding a piece of paper in her hands.
"Don't startle me like that," Banda said, holding his chest.
"I don't think I startled you that much though, Papa," Megan said, bowing her head.
"Don't make me out the EMP," Banda said in a sarcastic tone, his arms folded and his eyes closed.
(Pa—) was the sound of a visible spark that suddenly burst from the back of Megan's neck.
"Huuuuuh??? Megan, are you—?" Banda asked in a concerned tone as he quickly moved to check her.
"Huh... you seem fine though..." he said upon scanning the area from which the spark came.
"What could've caused that though... a minor glitch?" Banda said out loud.
"Ohh, you have a drawing on that paper... can I see?" Banda asked.
Megan handed him the paper.
"It's a drawing... of herself???" Banda said in a hush tone.
"MEGAN!!!! HOW DARE YOU DRAW YOUR CHEST WITH SUCH A LARGE FIGURE!!!!" Banda said out loud in a panic.
"Errrr..." Megan said.
(Flashback: Megan watching a show of women getting their bodies enhanced.)
(Inner monologue: "I think he's onto me.")
"Megan, you are way too young to be drawing stuff like this... let alone on yourself," Banda said as he scanned the drawing once more.
"I'm sorry," Megan said, bowing her head.
"It's fine. Just get back to the living room. I'll be there with lunch shortly," Banda said.
Megan walked down the hall and straight to the living room, his eyes completely focused on her.
He let out a faint sigh.
"Her drawings seem to be better than they were a few months ago," he said to himself.
(Flashback: Megan and Mr. Banda drawing on the bridge.)
"Hahaha..." Banda laughed to himself.
"I guess her environmental data entry is working..." he said, letting out a bright smile. "I'm glad."
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Meanwhile: (School stairs)
Ayan made her way up the school stairs, her laptop in hand, her steps precise, the stairs constantly echoing the sound of her footsteps.
Walking a little further, she saw Mailo coming down the stairs.
She flinched, her eyes widening as they lingered on him.
Taking a small deep breath, she composed herself and continued walking up, bypassing Mailo despite him stopping.
"Ayan," Mailo said...
Ayan flinched at hearing his voice, hesitated, but continued walking, leaving Mailo behind in silence.
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Meanwhile: (Banda's house)
"MEGAN!!!! WHY ARE YOU BUSY DOING THIS?!" Banda said, pointing at Megan's drawings.
"Ohhhh..." Megan said to herself.
(Inner monologue: "Crap... I forgot to hide these.")
(Banda's inner monologue:) "What's with this sudden obsession of hers... could this be teenage girl insecurity? I really should make some adjustments regarding what her data intake can process."
"Papa," Megan said.
"Yeah...?" Banda said in response, while his eyes scanned her drawings.
(TV: News coverage: "An unexpected missile from the borderline conflict between Zambia and Twazwe has hit Zambian farmland. This has raised major concerns regarding national security," said the news reporter.)
"Papa," Megan said again, but he kept silent, his eyes lingering on the news headline.
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Meanwhile: (The Zambian Defence Society)
"We need to eliminate Banda," said the tall man with a long, sharp nose seated at the far end of the table (Gabby Sichamba).
The rest of the members seated around the table all sat there silently, paying attention as the table began to glow blue, showcasing a large map of the world.
"This war should at least be our main concern before thinking about taking out a national enemy," said a woman at the middle end of the table (Lady Racheal).
"Lady Racheal is right... getting rid of the war before escalation would be the smartest thing to do now," said a beautiful woman with very strong, well-aligned features.
"But he refused to participate in the war," said a man with a buzzy voice and an accent.
"Yes... and if not for his refusal to give up the equation, we wouldn't have been in this situation now," said a chubby man, picking a toothpick from his teeth.
"But you people do understand the kind of threat Banda really is, right?" said a soft-featured man with his braid tied back, wearing a sharp smile.
"Let's not forget this is the same man the government barely laid a finger on after the incident..."
"We are well aware, Mr. Delele," said Lady Racheal.
"That is why he'll be a discussion for another day."
"I see," said the tall man with the long sharp nose.
"This war needs to be contained... we wouldn't want the Federation of States to intervene."
(The Federation of States: the world's capital — a massive supercontinent empire.)
"Seeing that our country cut ties with them ages ago, we can conclude that they wouldn't intervene," said the beautiful woman with strong features.
"Ohh... and what do you say about Twazwe then?" added Mr. Delele.
"As in??"
"Do you think this sudden burst of confidence to attack our state was out of independent intent or—"
"Mr. Delele, let's not jump to any conclusions just yet," interrupted the man with the long sharp nose.
"Right," Mr. Delele said in a sarcastic tone.
"Right now... we need to get the Chief Bases involved before anything escalates any further," added the man with the long sharp nose.
(The Chief Bases: a collection of 72 different chief domes, each unique, with technology so advanced they operate independently from the main state but collaborate during emergencies or developmental programs.)
"But before we engage that, you do understand that intel states that Twazwe is working with Professor Roderick, an international state criminal," added Madam Bolton with her British accent.
"The man responsible for a portion of the equation," added Mr. Delele.
"Yes... he needs to be erased. Then this war can end," said Madam Bolton.
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To be continued...
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