Chapter 10: CHAPTER 10- THE SHADOW
Rain lashed against the windows, a steady, rhythmic tapping like a ticking clock. The kind that made silence louder. In the flickering light of the kitchen, Aaron San Agustin sat alone at his cluttered table, elbows pressed to the wood, eyes fixed on a single object: the black USB drive labeled ECHO.
He hadn't slept. He couldn't.
His reflection stared back at him in the rain-streaked glass—a haunted version of himself, hollow-eyed, uncertain. He turned the USB over in his fingers.
"I need answers," he whispered to no one.
He stood abruptly, grabbed his coat, and headed into the storm.
The basement parking lot behind the convenience store was dim and reeking of oil and old cigarette smoke. Rain pooled around Aaron's boots as he stepped toward the one person he didn't trust—but might hold the truth.
Dean leaned against his rusted sedan, dragging on a cigarette, the ember flaring in the dark like a watching eye. He didn't flinch as Aaron approached.
"You got something to say, San Agustin?" Dean asked, smoke curling from his nostrils.
Aaron's voice came low and sharp.
"What do you know, Dean? Did you do this? Did you frame me?"
Dean scoffed, flicking ash to the wet pavement.
"Me? Why the hell would I want to get you fired?"
"You've hated me since day one."
"I don't like many people. Doesn't mean I set them up."
Their eyes locked, the tension thick as the rain, until footsteps splashed behind them.
Lucas jogged into view, soaked to the bone, holding something tightly in one hand.
"Aaron," he called, breathless. "Come look at this."
He unfolded a wet, crumpled piece of paper—more of the strange, recursive patterns like the ones on the USB. His eyes darted between them.
"I found it in the dumpster. Behind the store."
Aaron took the paper, feeling something twist in his gut. Not just fear—confirmation.
"This goes deeper than us," he said.
Later that night, the apartment glowed with soft lamp light. Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the city quiet and gleaming with neon reflections. The three men sat around the table—Aaron and Lucas, —staring down at the USB and the crumpled pattern.
"Why me?" Aaron murmured, voice tight. "Why would someone go through all this trouble? I'm just a part-timer. Not even management."
"That's what makes it suspicious," Lucas muttered. "No one sees you coming."
"Maybe there's something in the USB," Aaron said. "Let's find out."
Aaron inserted the drive. The screen lit up with a security feed—the night of the break-in.
They watched in stunned silence as the footage loaded: the camera showed Aaron, moving through the store with blank, mechanical precision. He entered the server room and began typing with inhuman speed.
Aaron stood frozen.
"That's not me," he whispered.
"But it is," Lucas said, equally shaken. "Someone's controlling you."
They returned to the convenience store after midnight. The streets were deserted. Aaron's hands shook as he unlocked the back door with his old keycard.
"This is where it starts," he whispered, leading them inside.
Inside the store, shadows loomed large under flickering lights. They split up. Lucas took the stockroom. Mia, whom Lucas had called for help, examined the server panel. Aaron returned to the office.
The server pulsed in the dark.
Suddenly, the lights glazed and snapped off. In the dark, the server came alive on its own, keys clacking without fingers. A whir, a hum—and the interface rebooted.
Aaron stepped back, eyes wide.
"That wasn't a system breach," He breathed. "It was a cover-up."
Lucas trance shattered.
"What do we do now?"
"We dig," Aaron replied