In the middle of the night, with the rain still pouring relentlessly, Hayaat rushed toward the research centre.
It was far—farther than she had expected.
The bus ride stretched endlessly, the faint glow of streetlights flickering against the rain-streaked windows.
When it finally reached the last stop, she stepped out into the downpour, the world around her fading into a blur of water and dim light.
From there, she took another car, the driver unwilling to go any further once the roads thinned into nearly deserted stretches.
And then, she was alone.
The research centre stood ahead—isolated, yet not abandoned. It was tucked away in a secluded expanse, far from the noise of the city, as if it had been placed there deliberately… to remain unseen.
At first, it made sense.
Facilities like these were often built away from the public—controlled environments, restricted access.
But as her gaze lingered, something about it felt… off.
Not empty.
Just… contained.
Her grip tightened around her phone as a thought settled in.
The centre had its own hospital.
And a pharmacy.
That wasn't unusual—not if people lived here.
A self-sustained facility would need them. Staff, researchers, workers—they would all require medical care, supplies, a system that functioned without depending on the outside world.
So no… it wasn't abandoned.
Which meant—
People were here.
And yet…
Why did it feel so silent?
Hayaat pulled up the blueprint again, her fingers slightly unsteady as she zoomed in, flipping through the images in her gallery.
Corridors. Entry points. Restricted sections. She had gone through them before, memorising what she could.
But standing here now, facing the real structure—
It felt different.
Heavier.
More real.
She had rushed back earlier just to grab an umbrella. Now, as she walked forward slowly, the rain struck against it in a steady, relentless rhythm. Each drop echoed in her ears, blending with the storm inside her mind.
The weight of it all pressed down on her—the questions, the fear, the urgency.
Noor.
Zara.
The call that had cut off.
Everything led here.
And whatever waited inside…
was not meant to be found.
Instead of heading toward the main entrance, Hayaat veered off.
The gardens surrounding the facility were unexpectedly well-maintained—trimmed hedges, narrow stone pathways, and tall trees swaying under the force of the rain.
The heavy downpour softened as she moved beneath the canopy, the leaves breaking its fall into scattered droplets.
It was quieter here.
Hidden.
Better.
She moved carefully, keeping low, using the shadows and the natural cover to her advantage.
From the blueprint, she knew this side led toward the residential quarters—where the staff lived.
And that changed everything.
Her mind began to race.
Going through the main research area would be direct—fast, even. She might find Noor and Fazel quicker that way.
But it was also the most dangerous option.
If she were caught there, she wouldn't just be questioned—she would be contained.
Taken straight to the higher authorities. To the very people behind all of this.
And she had no idea what they were capable of.
Clones.
Experiments.
Fragments of truth she didn't fully understand yet.
No—getting in was one thing.
Getting out alive… was another.
She slowed her steps, thinking.
Option one—get caught deliberately.
Too risky.
Option two—approach the residential area honestly, explain everything, hope for help.
Too slow. Too uncertain. Too dependent on mercy she couldn't trust.
Option three—blend in.
Sneak in.
But even that split into two paths.
Through the residential area… or directly into the research premises.
Her gaze shifted slightly, recalling another section of the blueprint.
The hospital.
For a moment, the idea seemed promising.
A place where movement might be less restricted.
But just as quickly, she dismissed it.
This wasn't a public hospital. It wouldn't be crowded, wouldn't be chaotic enough to hide in. If anything, it would be even more controlled.
Which left—
The residential sector.
If people lived here, there would be systems. Small shops. Utility spaces. Places that didn't demand strict identification at every second.
A cover.
A story.
Something simple.
She could say she was sent here for work.
Desperate for money. Referred by someone. It wasn't perfect—but it was believable enough to buy time.
And right now, time was everything.
Decision made, Hayaat straightened slightly and stepped out of the garden's cover, moving toward the residential entrance.
Hayaat slowed as she approached the residential checkpoint.
Two guards stood near the entrance.
One older.
One younger.
The moment she saw the older one, something in her chest tightened.
Recognition.
He was the same man—the one who had been tailing them earlier.
For a fraction of a second, her composure wavered.
Did he recognize her too?
His eyes lingered on her, sharp and observant, but he said nothing.
That silence unsettled her more than anything else.
Her heart began to race, each beat louder than the last, echoing in her ears.
She steadied herself.
It's okay, Hayaat. Focus.
You're here to rescue them… not get caught.
She stepped forward, forcing a polite smile.
"Good evening, sir," she said.
The younger guard glanced at her. "Yes?"
"I'm here for a job application," she replied, keeping her tone casual—uncertain, but believable.
"Both guards exchanged a glance. It was three in the morning—night, really."
"Oh," he nodded. "Alright. Who are you here to meet?"
For a split second, her mind went blank.
Then—
"My uncle," she said quickly. "He works here… told me to come."
"Which building?" the guard asked.
Her pulse spiked.
"Building 7."
A complete guess.
"I've already called him," she added. "He said he'd meet me there."
The younger guard nodded.
But the older one—
He was still watching her.
Too closely.
Hayaat forced a small smile.
"I'm sorry… you seem familiar. Have we met?"
"No."
Flat. Final.
But his eyes didn't leave her.
They let her pass.
The younger guard gestured for her to follow.
She did.
They walked past rows of identical buildings.
Then—
She saw it.
They walked past it.
"Wasn't that Building 7?" she asked.
"I know," he said calmly. "That was Building 7."
Her stomach dropped.
"Then where are we going?"
"A quick verification. Just routine. ID proof."
Of course.
She hadn't thought that far.
They passed an office.
Didn't stop.
"You said the office—"
"Just keep walking."
Then—
"You're being watched."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Hayaat's breath caught.
Her eyes flickered—windows, corners, shadows.
Cameras?
People?
Both?
A chill ran through her.
Is he warning me…
or threatening me?
She couldn't tell.
Friend—
or foe?
And more importantly—
was she already too deep to turn back?