Inside the palace's mission chamber, quiet discussions moved between the brothers — strategies, global updates, the delicate maintenance of the peace built under MRD's name.
Then, Sirius blinked.
At first, it was ignored. But when Amir glanced again and saw the light had not stopped, his brow tightened. "Sirius… what's this alert?"
He stepped forward, tapped the interface, and the video began to play.
Screams. Blood. Eyes glowing red. Flesh tearing apart. Men twisting into something unrecognizable. The room fell into a heavy, unnatural silence.
Malik's voice broke it, low and sharp. "What kind of creature is this…?"
Rayyan's voice was almost a whisper. "Zombie."
Jabir scoffed. "No way. That's fake. AI-made horror garbage."
But Rayyan's tone turned to steel. "Sirius. Source. Now."
Sirius replied without pause. "Dark Web server. Profile ID match: David."
The silence grew heavier. Baba's voice was slow and grim. "David is dead."
Sirius played another file. A lab came into view. A man lay strapped to a stretcher, wires and monitors surrounding him. David stood before the camera, his eyes soulless, his voice cold and sure.
"MRD… this is the weapon that will end you. Soon, you'll face him. Nothing can stop him. He will become a creation that no one can control. My creation. My protector."
He looked at the subject again, smirking. "Even if I die… he will live. And when he wakes, the world you built will burn."
The screen cut to black.
Malik's jaw tightened. "Even dead, that bastard still curses this world."
Baba's gaze was fixed on the floor. "This was never meant to spread. It was made to kill Mirshad… but without control, it mutated."
Jabir exhaled sharply. "Great. A failed plan now turned into the end of us."
Malik shook his head. "I've only seen zombies in games. And now we're living in one."
Rayyan's voice was sharp and commanding. "Sirius — send this footage to all one hundred ninety-five national leaders. Now."
As the transmission began, Rayyan activated the global emergency line. "You know who we are. Watch the video. This isn't a simulation. It's not theoretical. There is no cure. No containment strategy. Prepare your countries."
He ended the video and turned to his brothers. "We leave. Now."
Rayyan stormed into the main palace hall, his voice cutting through the air. "Everyone — family, staff, squad — stop everything. We evacuate now."
Commanders snapped to action. Amir raced to the control room. "All helicopters, activate! Prep for immediate takeoff from the new palace site."
Sophia emerged slowly, her hand resting on her stomach, eyes heavy. Nine months pregnant. "Rayyan… what is happening now?"
He approached her gently, lowering himself slightly to meet her eyes. "We're going to the island. It's safer. We lost him already, Sophia… we can't lose you or the three stars inside you."
He handed her the tablet. She watched the video, and when Mirshad's name echoed through the audio, her breath caught. Her hands shook. Tears fell silently. She sat on a nearby couch, her body trembling. "He gave everything… and now he's not here to protect us from what's next."
Sara hugged her tightly. "But he left his strength with you. With them."
At the front of the palace, vehicles waited, engines running. Family, staff, guards — everyone ready. Maa, Papa, uncles, aunties, cousins, brothers, squad — every soul who called the palace home.
Jabir muttered under his breath. "Feels like war again."
Rayyan's eyes hardened. "No. This time… it's something worse."
The convoy rolled toward the open land meant for Mirshad's future palace, now transformed into a helicopter zone. The choppers thundered, rotors slicing the air.
Sophia was helped out, supported by her sister and staff. She turned to look at the palace one last time, then closed her eyes.
Rayyan glanced back. "We will return. But for now… we protect what he gave his life for."
The family boarded. The sky opened. The helicopters rose, leaving the palace shrinking beneath them. Above, only darkness and determination awaited.