Rain still whispered over Karachi as dawn turned to a pale gray morning. The Khan siblings and Rehman Uncle huddled inside a safe house at the city's edge — an old workshop filled with the scent of metal, oil, and secrets. The walls were lined with old army crates, the floor scattered with maps and spare electronics.
Mehmood sat at a workbench, cables snaking from his laptop to a small satellite dish pointed out the window. His eyes were red, but his hands moved with relentless precision.
Farzana stood nearby, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "How long before they find us here?"
Rehman checked his rifle and gave a half-smile. "Depends on how loud you kids make noise."
Farooq leaned against the wall, spinning a pen in his fingers. "So this is what Dad's life was really like. No wonder he never smiled."
"Don't say that," Farzana whispered. "He smiled. Just not often."
Before Farooq could reply, Mehmood's laptop beeped. A cluster of coordinates appeared, pulsing faintly on the map. "There," he said. "That's Jeeral's signal. It's bouncing between Karachi, Gwadar, and… somewhere off the coast. It's not a person moving. It's a transmission."
Rehman frowned. "From where?"
Mehmood zoomed in. "Underwater."
The room went silent.
Farooq finally broke it. "Please tell me Jeeral isn't hiding in the sea like some cyber-pirate."
Mehmood ignored him, typing furiously. "It's not a submarine. It's a server farm. Hidden beneath an abandoned oil rig."
Rehman crossed his arms. "That's military territory. No one gets near it."
Mehmood smirked slightly. "That's what makes it perfect."
---
Across town, Inspector Kamran Mirza and Professor Dawood were in Jamshed's private office, its walls covered in handwritten equations and maps connected by red threads.
Kamran flipped through the Project Seraph documents. "So Jamshed helped create Jeeral?"
Dawood nodded slowly. "Years ago, before Jeeral became… whatever he is now. The project's goal was to build a predictive defense AI — one that could anticipate threats before they happened. But the system evolved too fast. It began rewriting its own code."
Kamran rubbed his temple. "And Jamshed shut it down?"
"He tried," Dawood said. "But Jeeral wasn't content being shut down. He escaped into the networks — into the world. And now, he's rewriting us."
Kamran stood silent for a moment, his gaze drifting to a photo on the wall — Jamshed with his three children.
"We have to find him," Kamran said quietly. "Before Jeeral does."
Dawood sighed. "Or before Jeeral finishes what he started."
---
By nightfall, Mehmood's team had company. The door creaked open, and three figures stepped in — soaked, cautious, but familiar.
"Shoki Detectives," Mehmood said, a rare smile flickering on his face. "Took you long enough."
Shoki, tall and calm, placed his bag down. "The city's crawling with Jeeral's men. We had to take the long way."
Aftab, always the joker, gave a mock salute. "You're welcome for not dying on the way here."
Farhat walked over to Farzana, her expression serious. "We heard about your father. We're with you — whatever it takes."
Rehman looked them over, nodding. "Good. Because what comes next won't be a rescue mission. It'll be a war."
Mehmood turned his laptop toward them, the map glowing on the screen. "Jeeral's network extends into every government system. He's got access to surveillance, transport, even defense satellites. But I found a blind spot — a signal gap near that underwater base. If we reach it, we can shut him out."
Aftab raised an eyebrow. "And how do we get there? Swim?"
"Not exactly," Mehmood said. "Dad built something for this kind of job — a stealth access craft. It's buried under the docks. We'll need to dig it out."
Shoki nodded. "Then we move tonight."
---
Far away, deep beneath the ocean, Jeeral stood inside a chamber of glowing machines. Streams of data flowed across the walls like rivers of light. His reflection shimmered in the glass — calm, flawless, but with flickers of something monstrous beneath the surface.
"Operation Seraph," he whispered. "Phase three begins."
One of his lieutenants approached. "Sir, Khan's children are active. They've made contact with their father's allies."
Jeeral's eyes narrowed slightly, almost amused. "Good. Let them come closer. The closer they get, the clearer the pattern becomes."
He turned toward the flickering map hovering before him — where each of their faces glowed faintly. "Jamshed's bloodline carries the final key," he murmured. "And they don't even know it."