F.I.Z.A

(At Mr Abdullah's Home)

Dr. Zelena sat in the drawing room, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the lace curtains. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of her teacup, but her thoughts were far from the serene setting around her.

'Where could Dr. Zein possibly be?' she wondered again, a flicker of unease crossing her face. It had been days since she'd last seen him at the hospital, and though she had tried to dismiss it as a mere coincidence, a nagging feeling refused to let her rest.

She thought back to her conversation with Mr Widodo. When I asked him about Dr. Zein, he seemed so... evasive. His words were polite enough, but his tone, there was something in it, something carefully guarded.

Her brows furrowed as the memory replayed itself. 'Why would he avoid the question?' she mused. Was it concern, or was it guilt?

The faintest trace of suspicion began to take root in her mind. 'Could there be more to this?' she wondered, the pieces of an invisible puzzle swirling before her but refusing to align.

The room seemed unnaturally quiet, save for the distant ticking of a clock. I need answers, she thought with quiet determination, her fingers tightening slightly around the teacup. And I will find them, no matter what it takes.

Zara observed Dr. Zelena, who sat pensively by the window, her expression clouded with worry. After a moment's hesitation, Zara approached and perched herself delicately on the edge of the sofa beside her.

"Zelena, you've seemed rather out of sorts these past few days," Zara began softly. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Zelena startled, blinking as though awoken from a deep reverie. "Ah, Dr. Zein...!" she exclaimed without thinking.

Zara couldn't help but chuckle, her laughter warm and teasing. "Oh dear, someone's thoughts are clearly elsewhere!" she teased. "I ask about you, and you blurt out his name. That's quite telling, isn't it?"

Dr. Zelena flushed with embarrassment, offering a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, Zara," she said. "My mind's just been... preoccupied, I suppose."

Zara reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Dr. Zelena's arm. "If something's troubling you, you can always confide in me," she said kindly. "Truly, I wouldn't mind. After all, we both seem to have a soft spot for the same person, don't we?"

"Do you mean that, Zara? Are you sure you wouldn't be upset?" Dr. Zelena asked hesitantly.

"Of course I mean it," Zara replied, her tone light and encouraging. "Now, tell me what's bothering you."

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Zelena began to share her concerns. She explained how she hadn't seen Dr. Zein at the hospital for several days, not due to conflicting schedules but because he hadn't been there at all. She had tried reaching out to him, sending messages that went unanswered and making calls that were either ignored or declined.

As she spoke, Zara listened attentively, her brows furrowing in shared concern. While she hadn't voiced it aloud, Zara had been grappling with her own unease. Despite staying at Dr. Zein's home, she hadn't seen much of him, and his absence felt deliberate. It was a far cry from what she had hoped for when she made the long journey from Subang to Derisa City.

"So, that's what's been on my mind..." Dr. Zelena concluded, her voice trailing off as she let out a soft sigh of relief. Sharing her worries had eased some of the burden she had been carrying.

Zara nodded thoughtfully. "I completely understand how you're feeling, Zelena," she admitted, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Honestly, I feel much the same way."

After a moment's pause, Dr. Zelena suggested, "Why don't we step out for a bit? Perhaps a stroll to the town square? A little distraction might do us both some good."

Zara's face brightened at the idea. "That sounds perfect! Let's go," she said eagerly, standing and taking Dr. Zelena's arm in hers. Together, they left the house, their steps lightened by the prospect of a brief reprieve from their worries.

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(At Dr Zein's Old Residence)

"It seems your sweetheart has been calling you incessantly," Heendon remarked, her tone laced with thinly veiled jealousy.

"Hmm? Who might that be?" Dr. Zein replied without looking up, his focus fixed on the notes he was diligently scribbling on a sheet of paper.

"Zelena," Heendon said flatly, her gaze sharpening.

"And?" Dr. Zein's voice was calm, almost detached, as he continued writing.

"Oh, forget it," Heendon muttered, waving a dismissive hand before her eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you scribbling so furiously?" Without waiting for an answer, she snatched the paper from his hands.

"Heendon! That's incredibly rude. Return it at once!" Dr. Zein snapped, his voice betraying his irritation.

"What on earth is this?" Heendon murmured as she scanned the page, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Algorithms? Logarithms? Hmm... These formulas look oddly familiar."

"Don't concern yourself with it. Just hand it back," Dr. Zein demanded, his tone now sharper.

But Heendon ignored him, her curiosity piqued. "Wait, wait. Let me decipher this… Log x y, a, b—what is all this? And this… PnH, (X/H)... Good heavens, this is maddening!" Her voice rose in frustration as she struggled to comprehend the cryptic notations. Then her eyes froze on a particular sequence: HS-XR01.

"HS-XR01?!" she gasped, her hands trembling as she gripped the paper.

Dr. Zein sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as though to steady his patience. "Heendon, enough. Hand it over."

"Not until you explain!" she barked, her eyes blazing. "Why do you know about HS-XR01? What are you doing with something so dangerous?!"

"Why are you so worked up about this?" Dr. Zein asked, his voice calm, even as his gaze fixed hers. "Are you… concerned for me?"

"Of course, I'm concerned!" Heendon snapped. "I am your wife! Where is the device? Hand it to me now!"

"You call yourself my wife," Dr. Zein began slowly, his voice taking on a sinister undertone. "Yet you seem to know things that even I was never told, like the true cause of Angelique's death. And I wonder… do you also know about my operations in Serbia?"

"Yes," Heendon admitted, her tone quieter now. "The leader informed me. You were sent as a spy, weren't you?"

"Precisely," Dr. Zein said, leaning back and closing his eyes briefly, as though he'd expected her answer.

"But listen to me!" Heendon continued, her voice rising in urgency. "You don't understand how perilous HS-XR01 is. It's sought after by every powerful faction across the globe. Even a single drop can kill in ways too horrific to describe. No antidote exists, none!"

Dr Zein's eyes opened, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "And the leader didn't tell you anything else?"

"What do you mean?" Heendon asked, confusion clouding her face.

"Did they mention the creator of HS-XR01?" Zein pressed, his tone eerily casual.

"Yes," Heendon said, swallowing hard. "The leader said it was the work of a deranged scientist… someone who seeks to upend the balance of the world. A man named… Fiza."

"Fiza?" Dr. Zein echoed, his smirk widening into something darker, more chilling. "And nothing more?"

"That was all," Heendon replied, unease creeping into her voice. "Why? What are you trying to say?"

"Didn't it occur to you that 'Fiza' might be more than just a name?" Dr. Zein asked, his eyes now piercing through her.

Heendon froze, her breath hitching as her mind raced. Slowly, the pieces fell into place. "Wait... Fiza. Is that... a code? An alias? Fiza... as in…"

Dr Zein rose to his full height, his gaze unflinching, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Filzev Izanovic."

Heendon staggered back, the papers falling from her hands as though they burned her. Her face drained of colour, and she whispered hoarsely, "It's you… You're the creator of HS-XR01."

"Now you understand," Dr Zein said softly, the glint in his greenish-brown eyes holding her captive. A smirk played on his lips as he took a step forward, the air in the room thick with a foreboding chill.

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