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Dj Kynuh, 10300, Kerugoya (2025)

01/11/2025

Zoya tapped furiously. “Let me dig. But if she’s real — if Lilian was involved — this whole thing goes deeper. Maybe your mother wasn’t the first.”

A distant boom echoed from outside. They all froze.

Tito peeked through a slit in the steel door.

“Black vans. No plates. Four men. Guns. They found us.”

Zoya yanked the drives. “We gotta move. Now.”

Cayden grabbed a duffel of gear, tossed Maya a hoodie, nodded at Tito.

As they climbed through the underground exit tunnel, Cayden looked back one last time at the command center. His mind raced.

Mary was just the beginning.
Ayaan’s madness had meaning.
And now… Lilian.

He whispered to himself, “What the hell did you really build, James?”

Above ground, thunder cracked.

Below it, war was rewriting its next chapter.

01/11/2025

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Cayden smirked. “So are you. But the difference? I don’t bluff.”

With a nod to Zoya, the first wave of footage went live:
Mary Wanjiku’s voice, broken but defiant, filled millions of screens.
“I know who you are. I know what you’ve done. And if my son hears this… Cayden, burn it down.”

Across continents, people sat up. Phones buzzed. Media feeds crashed.
And in a tower above London, for the first time in decades…
James Ellison’s hand shook.

Episode 137 – Page 137: The World Tilts

The effect was immediate — like a match dropped in dry forest.

Within hours, hashtags erupted. , , .
Anonymous accounts began dropping satellite proof, whistleblower testimonies, screenshots of classified memos — some of it from within James’ own network. The world wasn’t just watching. It was tearing open.

Tito leaned over his tablet, breath caught. “Bro… they’re calling you the ‘ghost son.’ You’re trending everywhere.”

Cayden didn’t look away from the wall of live feeds. “Good. Let them look. Let them feel it.”

Zoya piped in, “WhisperNet’s trying to bounce us out. He’s deploying counter-narratives using AI influencers. Old-school disinformation campaign.”

Cayden’s voice was steel. “Out-code it. We’ve come too far to lose ground.”

Maya stood beside him, pale but burning. “There’s something else,” she whispered. “In one of Ayaan’s papers. She didn’t just know about your mother — she mentioned a third name.”

Zoya looked up. “What third name?”

Maya pulled out a scan from the USB. An old, faded document. A patient list.

One name was underlined.

Lilian Ellison.

Tito frowned. “Wait… James had a sister?”

Zoya narrowed her eyes. “Or a wife he never told anyone about.”

Cayden’s heart slammed. “He told me my mother was the only one.”

Zoya tapped furiously. “Let me dig. But if she’s real — if Lilian was involved — this whole thing goes deeper. Maybe your mother wasn’t the first.”

01/11/2025

Episode 136 – Page 136: WhisperNet Breach

3:12 a.m.
Somewhere beneath Nairobi, firewalls fell like dominoes.

Zoya’s fingers moved like a pianist's — precise, relentless, surgical. Lines of code lit up across multiple screens. The WhisperNet server, once thought unbreachable, was unraveling before their eyes.

“Accessing backend node clusters now… root control in 60 seconds,” she whispered.

Cayden paced like a caged animal. Tito was on comms, tracing signal mirrors bouncing from Ireland to Cyprus. Maya sat quietly in a corner, decrypting physical documents from the USB — ink-stained evidence of what James had buried.

Then—

“Got it,” Zoya said.

The screen blinked:
WhisperNet Override: ADMIN CONTROL GRANTED

A chilling silence filled the room. They were inside. All the way inside.

Cayden stepped forward. “Can we broadcast globally?”

Zoya nodded. “Audio, visual, geo-targeted feeds — this system could hijack newsrooms, billboards, hell, even smart devices.”

Maya looked up. “Let’s make the world listen.”

But just as Zoya queued the first upload — a whistleblower file from Ayaan detailing the illegal restraint of Mary Wanjiku — an alert popped up.

REMOTE OVERRIDE REQUESTED — SOURCE: LDN-CORE-NODE-1

Cayden’s jaw tensed. “That’s London. James is in the system.”

Zoya’s eyes narrowed. “He’s trying to lock us out.”

“Not this time,” Cayden growled.

He grabbed a headset, synced it to WhisperNet's override line. “James,” he said into the silence, “you watching?”

The response came fast — voice calm, British, and ice-cold.

“Hello, son.”

Zoya froze. Maya stiffened.

Cayden’s hand didn’t tremble.

“You always said I was your legacy. Guess what? I’m rewriting it.”

James chuckled softly. “You think leaking files will change anything? I built this world, Cayden. People don’t want truth — they want comfort.”

Cayden stared at the screen. “Then we’ll make the truth louder than their lies.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

31/10/2025

He stepped back like he’d been punched.

“You were never the son,” Maya whispered. “You were the experiment.”

Cayden didn’t flinch. “Then let him see what happens when the experiment learns to rewrite itself.”

Zoya tapped a key. “We can leak this. Media. Whistleblowers. Turn this entire framework into a global scandal.”

“No,” Cayden said. “We do it *surgically*. Not just exposure — we dismantle him. Piece by piece. Network by network. He doesn’t get to vanish in the chaos.”

Tito nodded. “So what’s the first move?”

Cayden looked around the room — Maya on his left, Zoya at the console, Tito leaning against war, and the truth burning on every screen.

He spoke with the calm of a man done running.

“We go after WhisperNet first. That’s how he controls narratives. We hijack it, flip the system, and use it to tell the world everything.”

Zoya’s fingers flew across the keys.

Maya tied her hair back.

Tito cracked his knuckles.

And somewhere far away, in a glass tower draped in British silence, James Ellison raised a glass of wine… smiling.

He felt it —
The war had begun.

31/10/2025

Cayden’s blood ran cold.

“They know we have it.”

Ayaan’s voice turned to steel. “Then we use it before they do.”

Maya stood beside Cayden, eyes no longer afraid.

“I’m in.”

They didn’t look back as they left the crumbling hospital.

Behind them, the ghost of Mary Wanjiku waited…
Ahead of them, James Ellison’s empire trembled.

Episode 135 – Page 135: Contagion Protocol

The drive hummed quietly inside Cayden’s jacket, as if aware of its own weight. Back in Nairobi, the city seemed colder, more hostile — the neon lights no longer a glow of ambition, but surveillance beacons watching from every rooftop.

They regrouped at Tito’s warehouse — the one no one but Zoya and Cayden knew existed. It was raw, steel-boned, and deep enough underground to feel safe from eyes above.

Tito was already waiting, arms crossed, jaw tense. “What the hell did you bring back?”

Zoya plugged the USB into a protected machine. The screen flickered, scanned, then began unfolding folders like opening wounds — marked with codenames: “Project Coil”, “WhisperNet”, “Regenesis.”

“Jesus,” Tito muttered. “These aren’t projects. They’re blueprints for psychological warfare.”

Maya leaned in, her eyes sharp. “And guess who signed off most of them?”

The screen showed digital signatures, buried contracts, shadow shell companies.

James Ellison.

Everywhere.

Zoya scrolled through logs showing test subjects — some deceased, some “stabilized,” some simply… missing.

Cayden’s name appeared on a list marked “Tier 2 Influence Control – Observational Subject.”

He stepped back like he’d been punched.

31/10/2025

Episode 134 – Page 134: The Blueprints of Power

They sat in silence as the rain hammered the roof of the abandoned facility. Zoya’s voice crackled faintly through Cayden’s earpiece. “You got the drive?”

“Got it,” he replied.

Ayaan paced near the shattered window, staring out at the dark treeline like ghosts would emerge at any moment. Maya hadn’t left her side since the revelation. She sat close, hands clasped, heart racing with rage and shame.

Zoya’s voice came again. “Upload it when you're somewhere secure. If what Ayaan says is true, the file might trigger flags—military, corporate, maybe even foreign.”

Cayden looked at the USB like it was ticking.

“What’s on this?” he asked Ayaan.

“Names. Labs. Transfer logs. Psychological models James helped develop. He was consulting for multiple entities — not just private corporations, but intelligence agencies. What started with mind control experiments evolved into something worse.”

Maya's voice was small. “Worse?”

Ayaan nodded grimly. “Behavioral patterning. Digital dependencies. Neurological vulnerabilities engineered through media, food, even... charity systems.”

Cayden blinked. “Like the very networks I used?”

Ayaan looked at him, her voice steady. “Exactly like the ones you built.”

The air in the room turned suffocating.

“You mean I’ve been…” Cayden’s jaw clenched, “part of it?”

“Not knowingly,” Ayaan said gently. “But yes. His fingerprints were all over your rise. He wanted access to influence, and you—his ‘golden son’—gave him the perfect vessel.”

Maya’s face twisted with disbelief. “That’s why he was always watching us.”

Ayaan turned to her. “That’s why he never truly left.”

Outside, headlights flashed in the distance — once, then gone. Too fast. Too silent.

Cayden stood. “Time to move. They’re watching this place.”

Zoya’s voice clicked in again. “Get out. Now. I just got pinged — Cayden, someone tried accessing your private cloud with an old biometric key… tied to your father’s prints.”

31/10/2025

Maya took a shaky breath. “Mama…”

Ayaan’s face tightened. “Don’t. Not yet.”

Cayden studied her. Time had carved deep lines in her face, but her eyes — sharp, guarded — held a fire he’d only seen in one other woman: Mary Wanjiku.

“You knew she was here,” he said quietly. “You knew he kept her.”

Ayaan stepped past the rotting doorframe and ran her fingers over the etched name in the wall. “I didn’t just know. I *heard* her. Every night. Screaming. Praying. Whispering your name like it could save her.”

Maya’s knees weakened. “You were here? All this time?”

“I came back after they moved her. Too late.” Ayaan looked at her daughter, something in her gaze flickering between love and exhaustion. “James made sure no one would believe me. Said I was unstable. Paranoid. And when I wouldn’t shut up—he had me institutionalized. Here.”

Cayden’s fists clenched. “Jesus…”

Ayaan turned to him. “He buried us all. In concrete and silence. Your mother was the test. You were the blueprint. And my daughter…” she hesitated, pain cracking her voice, “was meant to be the next experiment.”

Maya’s face drained of color. “What… what do you mean?”

Ayaan reached into her coat and pulled out a small, battered USB.

“Take this. Everything I could smuggle, copy, decode. It’s not just about Mary. Or me. This is global, Cayden. James wasn’t trying to raise a son or keep a daughter—he was building control systems. Social, biological… digital.”

Cayden took the drive carefully.

“I want to burn him,” he said.

Ayaan smiled, bitter and broken. “Then you’ll need more than fire. You’ll need to become the storm.”

Maya stepped forward, tears rising. “Why didn’t you come find me?”

Ayaan finally looked at her — really looked.

“Because I thought I’d lost you to him. And I couldn’t survive losing you again.”

Thunder groaned outside.

And in the dark hospital where too many voices had been silenced, three survivors stood facing the truth — scarred, stitched, but not done.

Not yet.

31/10/2025

Cold. Still. Too still.

Inside, the hallway stretched like a throat — dark, narrow, whispering with echoes from rooms that no longer had names. Torn gurneys lined the walls, graffiti splashed across doors that once held people behind them.

Then — a room.

Cayden stopped.

Door marked: B-14. The same tag from the video timestamp.

He pushed it open.

The room smelled of rust, mold, and something older. Restraints still hung from the bedframe. Faint stains on the floor. A shattered mirror. But the chair — the same chair from the video — still stood facing the corner.

Empty.

Maya stared, breath caught in her throat. “This is where they kept her…”

Cayden stepped toward the wall. Scratched into the plaster were letters — desperate, jagged, fading.

"CAY... DEN"

He froze.

His name.

Maya reached for him. “She tried to reach you…”

His voice was hoarse. “She never gave up.”

Behind them, a floorboard creaked.

They spun — just as a figure stepped from the shadows.

Female. Older. Wrinkled scarf pulled over her head.

Ayaan Noor.

Her eyes met Maya’s — weary, haunted, but burning.

“I told you,” she whispered. “I told you he was the devil. And now you’ve come walking straight into his mouth.”

Episode 133 – Page 133: The Devil’s Mouth

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Maya's lips parted, a thousand questions tangled on her tongue. Cayden instinctively stepped in front of her, but Ayaan raised a hand — not in threat, but in warning.

“I heard the car,” Ayaan said, voice low, sandpaper-rough. “Didn’t think it’d be you.”

Maya took a shaky breath. “Mama…”

31/10/2025

Maya’s voice was soft. “That’s where she was? All this time?”

“Maybe,” Zoya said. “Or maybe that’s just where they filmed her — we don’t know if she was moved.”

Cayden stood, grabbing his coat from the chair. “I’m going there. Tonight.”

Zoya raised a brow. “Alone?”

Cayden glanced at Maya. “No. But I’m not waiting for this to unfold on its own timeline. Too many people have already paid in silence.”

Maya looked hesitant, but then nodded. “If there’s even a chance Ayaan knows more, I’ll help you find her.”

Zoya nodded. “I’ll set up digital coverage. If anyone tries to intercept you or scrub the files again, I’ll see it before they blink.”

Cayden looked between the two women.

For a moment, he wasn’t the mogul, the man with a past, or the broken son.

He was just… a brother trying to stitch together lives severed by the same man.

“We don’t leave anything buried,” he said. “Not Mary. Not Ayaan. Not the truth.”

Zoya closed her laptop. “Then it’s time we trace ghosts.”

Thunder cracked outside.

But this time, it didn’t sound like warning.

It sounded like war.

Episode 132 – Page 132: Sundown Complex

The road to Eldoret was long, winding, and cloaked in mist. Trees leaned in like eavesdroppers, their twisted limbs reaching over the tarmac as if to warn the black SUV charging through the night.

Cayden sat in the front passenger seat, staring ahead, eyes unblinking. Maya sat behind him, her fingers tracing the edge of her sleeve, heart pounding louder than the rain against the windshield.

Neither spoke.

The Sundown Complex emerged from the fog like a co**se — crumbling walls, shattered windows, weeds breaking through concrete. The iron gate stood ajar, rusted and silent.

“Looks abandoned,” the driver muttered.

Cayden didn’t respond. He stepped out, boots crunching on wet gravel. Maya followed, hesitating only a second.

The moment they stepped inside the compound, the air shifted.

Cold. Still. Too still.

31/10/2025

Cayden's voice was razor-sharp. “Because he made you.”

Maya nodded slowly. “He told me she was delusional. That the guilt of being ‘the other woman’ made her paranoid. He said… she never let go of the past.”

Zoya scoffed under her breath. “Classic manipulation.”

Maya looked at Cayden, voice breaking. “She wasn’t crazy, Cayden. She was right. And I betrayed her for him.”

Cayden walked to the screen. Looked at the frozen image of his mother’s tear-streaked face. “That’s what James does. He makes people doubt what they know. Gaslights truth until it sounds like madness.”

Zoya's tone sharpened. “We need to find out what happened to Mary after this footage. Where she was taken. If she’s still alive…”

Cayden turned to Maya. “Where’s Ayaan now?”

Maya hesitated. “We haven’t spoken in months. She went off-grid. Said it was safer for both of us. Maybe she knew James was getting close again.”

Cayden stared at the blinking cursor on the screen.

“Then we find her,” he said. “She holds the next piece.”

Zoya cracked her knuckles. “If she’s anything like Mary… she didn’t run. She hid. And now, it’s time to pull her out.”

Outside, rain began to fall.

Not cleansing — but heavy, like the sky itself was tired of secrets.

Episode 131 – Page 131: Tracing Ghosts

The rain fell harder now, drumming against the windows of Cayden’s penthouse like impatient fingers. Thunder rolled low in the distance, as if the past was growling its way back into the present.

Zoya slid her laptop around and began cross-referencing the metadata from the recovered footage. Her brow furrowed. “This hospital... it's not a public one. No registration under the name, but there’s a flicker of a maintenance tag—‘Sundown Complex, Block 9.’”

Cayden leaned closer. “Where?”

“Outskirts of Eldoret. Decommissioned mental facility. Shut down years ago for ‘structural hazards.’” She smirked coldly. “Right. And I’m the Minister of Integrity.”

Maya’s voice was soft. “That’s where she was? All this time?”

31/10/2025

Video file. Timestamp: Six months after Mary Wanjiku’s alleged death.

The footage was grainy. But it was her.

Mary — his mother — in a hospital gown, restrained, screaming through a gag. James Ellison stood beside her, calm. Almost... clinical.

Maya recoiled.

“No... he said she died. He said Ayaan was crazy…”

Zoya hit pause. Her voice dropped.

“He kept her prisoner, Cayden. Probably experimented. Whatever NOVA is — it started with her.”

Cayden looked like glass about to shatter. Then, steel.

“Zoya, prep the drive. Send encrypted copies to Elias and two global journalists.”

Maya’s voice cracked. “What if he comes for us first?”

Cayden stared at the screen, then the envelope still lying on the table.

“Then we welcome him into the fire he lit.”

—

Episode 130 – Page 130: The Ones We Called Crazy

The silence in the room was louder than any scream.

Maya sat hunched over, her fingers trembling against her knees. The video of Mary frozen on screen, her eyes wild, gagged, strapped down like a monster instead of a mother.

Zoya stepped back, her jaw tight, eyes flicking between Cayden and Maya.

Cayden didn’t blink. His mother — the woman he mourned, honored, built half his identity around — had been alive. Tortured. Hidden. By his own father.

And Maya…

She finally spoke.

“I remember Ayaan… pacing in our hallway, late at night. Whispering to herself. Talking about Mary like she was still alive. I thought it was grief. I thought she’d lost her mind.”

She wiped a tear but it kept coming.

“She tried to tell me. She warned me about James. Said he was hiding something dark. That Mary didn’t just vanish. But I believed him.”

Cayden's voice was razor-sharp. “Because he made you.”

31/10/2025

“It was yours,” Maya said quietly. “Your mother gave it to mine. To remind her… we shared blood.”

Zoya looked at the broken drive like it was nuclear.

“Think it still works?”

Cayden nodded once. “If it doesn’t… someone will pay for what was on it.”

Outside, thunder rolled.

The last game was now fully in motion.

—
Episode 129 – Page 129: Broken Circuits, Buried Truths

Zoya worked in near silence, her face bathed in the glow of fractured data streams. Wires sprawled like veins across her desk, solder smoke curling into the air. Cayden stood behind her, fists tight, the baby blanket still in his grip — its warmth a cruel contrast to the storm building inside him.

Maya lingered by the window, arms wrapped around herself.

“This thing better talk,” Zoya muttered, her fingers dancing over the keyboard.

“It will,” Maya said, voice low. “My mom said it was the only thing James was truly afraid of.”

Zoya looked over her shoulder. “Your mom… what was her name?”

Maya blinked, caught off guard. “Ayaan. Ayaan Noor.”

Cayden’s head turned. “Somali?”

Maya nodded. “She met James when she was barely twenty. Thought he was a savior. Turns out he just liked women who didn’t have backup.”

The hard drive buzzed — faint, wounded, but alive.

“We’re in,” Zoya said.

The screen flickered to life. Folders bloomed across it like ghosts: Njia Prototype, Wanjiku – Surveillance, Ayaan Noor – Watchlist, and one that made Cayden freeze — Maya – Assessment.

He stepped forward. “What the hell does that mean?”

Zoya opened it.

SUBJECT: MAYA ELLISON

— Target exhibits heightened empathy, codependence. Ideal candidate for manipulation through maternal tethering. Suggest isolating from Ayaan to increase James-centric dependency.
— Paternity confirmed. Subject unaware of full lineage. Authorization: JE.

Maya clutched the edge of the table. “He studied me like a project... like a lab rat.”

Cayden growled, “He broke her down. Controlled her through you.”

Zoya's fingers moved faster now, her jaw tight. “There’s more. Tons. Offshore accounts. Election bribes. Names I recognize. Governors. Media heads. Even a folder labeled ‘NOV∆.’”

She clicked. Password-locked.

Cayden leaned in. “Try Ayaan. All caps.”

Click.

It opened.

Video file. Timestamp: Six months after Mary Wanjiku’s alleged death.

Dj Kynuh

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