Chapter 26:The Warning

The office lobby buzzed with the kind of manic, rehearsed energy that only accompanied public scrutiny. Polished marble floors gleamed. LED panels lit the glass walls with a clinical glow. Staff hurried in coordinated chaos—straightening banners, adjusting floral arrangements, syncing digital timers. Cameras flashed through the glass doors as the media crowded outside, waiting for Khan Global's quarterly press conference.

Andaleeb Shah stood near the stage, adjusting the mic on the podium, her fingers shaking just enough to make her scowl at herself.

Get it together.

It wasn't the press. It wasn't even the mounting fear of public exposure. It was a feeling—one that crawled under her skin like static. Her heart beat fast, not from anxiety… but from something else. Something colder. A pressure in the air. Like she was being observed from far away—and far too closely at once.

She looked up instinctively.

And that's when he walked in.

Zayan Khan.

Crisp black suit. Sharp jaw. Eyes scanning the room until they found her—and stopped. The storm in his presence settled the moment he saw her, and a stillness passed between them. One beat. Two.

Then—

"You look tired, Miss Shah," a smooth voice cut in like a blade dipped in sugar.

Andaleeb turned around.

Aleena Hashmi.

The woman was a vision in steely gray. Hair in a precise bun, heels sharp enough to stab, voice practiced. Calm. Cold.

"Busy week?" Aleena's lips curled into a perfect smile. "Or trouble keeping your story straight?"

Nearby staff went stiff. Whispers halted. Someone dropped a clipboard.

Andaleeb opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Her mind stalled under the weight of shock.

Aleena stepped closer, voice lower now, but loud enough. "Investors appreciate honesty, you know. And when someone has no past—well, it's suspicious. Some people wonder what you're hiding."

"Aleena," came Zayan's voice—steel wrapped in fire.

She turned, unfazed. "I'm only concerned about the company's reputation, Zayan. If there's something... off about her, it might damage—"

"One more word," he said, stepping forward, "and I swear you'll attend the next board meeting as a guest, not a partner."

That did it. Her expression cracked, just slightly. The room's temperature dropped.

Aleena gave a graceful nod, smile tightening. "Of course. Just looking out for the company. As always."

She walked off, her heels clicking against the marble, the echo of tension trailing behind her.

Zayan looked at Andaleeb.

"You okay?"

She nodded faintly, voice stuck behind the tight knot in her chest. He didn't press. But his eyes lingered longer than usual, like he wanted to reach out—and didn't know how.

Private Office – Later That Day

The office blinds were drawn. The light from the tablet screen glowed between Zayan and Aryan, casting bluish shadows on their faces.

Zayan swiped through security footage. "Watch this."

He played the elevator video. The screen flickered, and there it was—her hand brushing the panel, a faint pulse of light. Then the lights above shorted. Sparks flew.

"Here too," he muttered, switching clips. "Break room. Same day. The coffee machine explodes. She's standing closest. Everyone's unharmed. But..."

Aryan stared at the playback. "You think it's not coincidence."

Zayan leaned against the table, running a hand through his hair.

"I know it's not coincidence."

Aryan hesitated. "Zayan… are you investigating her or protecting her?"

Zayan didn't blink. "Both."

A beat passed. Then Aryan gave a half-laugh, the kind that held no humor.

"You're not just in love with her," he said. "You're trying to prove she's not even human."

Silence.

Zayan's jaw flexed. "And if she isn't?"

Aryan looked at him—really looked. "Then it explains everything. Because you're not in love like a normal man either."

Zayan didn't respond. But his grip on the tablet tightened.

Zareen's Café – Back Room

The walls of the backroom were lined with old wooden shelves and the smell of baked cinnamon. But the tension inside was anything but warm.

Eman's fingers flew across the tablet screen. She slammed it on the counter.

"Yellow-level warning. The satellite flagged it fifteen minutes ago."

Haroon's brows furrowed as he leaned over the data. Alien text scrolled alongside English: proximity breaches, emotional attachment levels, field energy fluctuations.

"Protocol breach at 90%," he read aloud, voice low. "If it hits 95, they'll initiate... memory wipe."

"She doesn't know yet," Eman whispered, voice cracking.

Haroon looked at her, grim. "And when she does... it might already be too late."

Evening Drive

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised shades of indigo and gold. The city lights sparkled behind them like distant stars. Zayan's car moved steadily along the winding road that led up to a quiet overlook on the hillside.

Neither of them had spoken since they left the office.

Andaleeb's fingers curled around the edge of her seatbelt. The silence was louder than anything he could say.

The car stopped.

Zayan turned off the engine.

The air between them stilled.

She didn't look at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because you're running," he said, his voice low. "And I need to know why."

She turned to face him. Her expression unreadable. "Maybe I'm just tired."

"Liar," he said gently. "You've never been tired a day since I met you."

She laughed, but it cracked mid-way.

Zayan leaned closer, his voice quieter now. "You don't have to tell me everything. But just answer this—are you planning to leave?"

The words hit her like a falling star.

She hesitated. Then whispered, "Would you stop me if I was?"

His jaw tightened. He didn't blink.

"Yes," he said. "Even if I have to fight the stars."

Her breath caught.

The wind tugged at her hair as the last light of day disappeared. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she could stop it.

And then he did something he rarely did—he reached out.

His arms wrapped around her gently, protectively, like she might vanish if he let go. A real hug. No teasing. No restraint. Just raw, aching closeness.

Andaleeb didn't resist. She buried her face in his chest, and for the first time in days, she felt warm.

Zayan's voice cracked as he whispered near her ear, "Don't let go, Andaleeb. Not until you tell me the truth."

But she couldn't.

She wasn't ready.

She just stood there, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.

Back at Her Apartment – Late Night

The lights were off. Only the faint glow of the pendant Zayan had gifted her flickered softly against her chest. She lay on the couch, knees tucked up, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Then, slowly, she sat up.

Walked to the mirror.

Tapped it twice.

The glass shimmered blue—and a holographic screen emerged, suspended in the air like a warning from a forgotten universe.

> Protocol Breach: 93%

> Subject ZK-01 too emotionally attached.

> Recommendation: Memory Reset

> Next warning will trigger automatic wipe.

Her hands trembled.

Her lips parted but made no sound.

No.

Her heart thudded like a drumbeat in her ribs.

"I can't lose him again," she whispered.

Her reflection in the glass looked foreign—eyes wide with fear, lips pressed into a line of helpless defiance.

She clenched her fists.

Outside, the wind howled against the window.

Inside, Andaleeb stood alone… surrounded by choices that weren't hers to make.

And ticking time she couldn't stop.

End of Chapter 26