Chapter 7: Behind Closed Doors

Zihad leaned back in his chair, the dim light of his bedroom casting long shadows across the floor. It had been a full day since Dream Land Fantasy had launched, and things were moving faster than he'd expected. The forums, the streams, the reaction—everything was happening in real-time, beyond his control. It was exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time.

Despite all the excitement, there was one thing Zihad couldn't shake: the thought that something wasn't right. He'd designed the game to be immersive, but now, with so many players in, something felt off.

He stared at the screen, fingers hovering above the keyboard. His usual confidence wavered for a split second before he shook it off. He wasn't just a player. He was the creator.

His phone buzzed, breaking his focus. Zidan's name flashed across the screen.

Zihad ignored it at first, but the buzzing didn't stop. With a sigh, he picked it up.

"Yo, bro. We need to talk."

Zihad listened as Zidan explained how the internet was practically imploding over Phantom Reaper. The gameplay clips were everywhere. People had already started digging through the code of the game, trying to figure out who was behind it all. They were coming close.

Zidan's voice was low when he continued. "You know they're going to find out soon, right? You've been too careful for too long. If you don't do something now, it'll be too late."

Zihad didn't respond immediately. He wasn't afraid of being exposed. Not yet. But Zidan was right about one thing: the clock was ticking.

He stood up and began pacing around his room. He needed a plan. A real one. Something that would keep him anonymous but still allow him to control the narrative of the game. As much as he wanted to stay in the shadows, the world was starting to demand answers.

His mind raced as he thought of the possibilities. He could shut down his identity, make sure no one ever connected the dots. But that would mean cutting ties with Google, and that was something he couldn't afford. He needed their support, their infrastructure, their marketing machine.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was an email from Google.

"Zihad, we've been monitoring Dream Land Fantasy's launch, and we're impressed with the results. We'd like to meet with you to discuss future collaboration."

The message was short but to the point. Zihad blinked, then leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. The game had barely been out for 24 hours, and already Google was reaching out. That wasn't just good—this was huge.

Without thinking, he picked up his phone again and dialed Zidan.

"What's up now?" Zidan answered, his voice sounding half-exasperated.

"I got an email from Google. They want to meet."

"Wait, what?" Zidan sounded genuinely shocked. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Not kidding." Zihad felt the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders. He wasn't sure if he should be excited or worried. There was a lot at stake now.

"Dude, this is crazy," Zidan said. "Are you gonna go?"

"I don't have a choice," Zihad replied quietly. "If I want to keep the game going, I need to make sure Google stays on my side."

The next day, Zihad sat nervously in the back of a sleek black car as it made its way to the Google headquarters in Bangladesh. His mind was a blur of conflicting emotions: excitement, anxiety, anticipation. This was the moment he had been working for, but it didn't feel like victory. Not yet.

The car came to a stop in front of the imposing glass building that housed Google's regional office. Zihad stepped out, the cool breeze brushing against his face as he adjusted his glasses. He swallowed hard, trying to quell the nerves that were threatening to take over.

Inside, the atmosphere was professional, almost clinical. The cold metal and glass reflected the light, and the sleek design of the space was a far cry from the cozy comfort of his bedroom. Zihad followed a receptionist to a glass-walled conference room, where a middle-aged man was already sitting at the head of the table, his fingers steepled in front of him.

The man looked up as Zihad entered.

"Zihad, I presume?" The CEO of Google Bangladesh, Sameer Ali, stood up with a warm smile. He extended his hand, and Zihad shook it firmly.

"Yes, that's me." Zihad replied, his voice steady.

Sameer gestured for him to sit down. "I've been following your progress with Dream Land Fantasy. It's been quite a ride for you, hasn't it?"

Zihad nodded, feeling a little out of his depth. "Yes, it's been... overwhelming, to be honest."

"I can imagine," Sameer said with a smile. "I'm sure you're aware that Google has a vested interest in this game. Your partnership with us has made a lot of people very excited."

Zihad glanced at him, then looked away. "I know."

Sameer's expression became more serious. "I want to make sure that we're on the same page. Google's interest in you isn't just about the game. We want to help you bring your vision to the world. But for that, we need to know more about you."

Zihad stiffened. He wasn't prepared for this. "What do you mean?"

Sameer leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "We've been monitoring your success closely. You've done something incredible here. But to move forward, we need to understand who you are. Not just your game, Zihad. We need to know who's behind all of this."

Zihad felt a knot tighten in his stomach. This was the moment. He had prepared for this—he had to keep his identity a secret. But how could he avoid it now?

"I'm... just a game developer," Zihad replied after a long pause.

Sameer didn't look convinced. "Is that all? Just a game developer?"

Zihad nodded. "That's all I am."

Sameer studied him for a moment before speaking again. "Alright, Zihad. But I'll be honest with you. Google's going to push you to step out from behind the curtain. We want your face on the box, your name in the credits. The public wants to know who created Dream Land Fantasy. It's your choice, but I wanted to warn you."

Zihad's heart raced, but he didn't let it show. "I'll think about it."

Sameer smiled and stood up, extending his hand again. "Good. I look forward to our future collaboration, Zihad."

Zihad shook his hand, feeling the weight of the decision hanging over him. As he left the meeting, his mind was racing. There was so much at stake now, and Zihad knew that every choice he made from here on out would change everything.

End of Chapter 7