Alaric pulled the chair back, sat down in front of one of the vacant computers in the long row of desks in the lab. The black screen that hadn’t yet lit up seed to reflect the weary look on his face. He powered on the computer, the soft whirring of the fan followed by the slow flicker of the monitor coming to life.
His fingers tapped the desk impatiently as he waited. His mind was still spinning with the words of the professor earlier.
"We’ve received a report that you stole an idea... stole a proposal... from a certain server."
The source of that information... clearly didn’t co out of nowhere. Soone must have sent it, becoming the root of his problem. Soone who most likely intended to bring him down.
He sighed deeply, then began opening the browser. "Okay, let’s start with the most official route."
His hands danced across the keyboard, typing in the address of the company’s server the professor had ntioned. Alaric knew full well this would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Because big companies rarely leave important docunts open for public access. But who knows, there might be so public records that could confirm his suspicions.
When the official page opened, he began typing in the docunt number from the accusation letter. The long string of numbers and letters that, if valid, should show a digital trace. He hit Enter.
The search results ca back empty.
Alaric retyped it. This ti, with so variations. Removing hyphens, adding different codes, even trying so common patterns used for numbering company files. But still, the screen only showed a single sentence: "No records found."
His brow furrowed. He bit his lower lip. "Impossible... If this docunt were real, there should at least be a digital footprint, even if it’s just tadata."
For a mont, his thoughts drifted to another possibility: Could soone inside the campus have fabricated the report? Or perhaps it was an outside competitor, soone from a rival robotics project, intentionally spreading the rumor? Could Edward have sothing to do with this? Alaric quickly dismissed the thought, trying to hold back his emotions.
His fingers froze on the keyboard. He stared at the screen, filled with dozens of tabs that had yielded nothing.
"If I try to break into the internal server... it could be dangerous. That’s already a legal matter," he murmured, deep in thought. He knew full well the consequences of illegal actions. If he tried to breach the company’s digital security without permission, the accusations could beco reality.
It would be like digging his own grave and walking right into the trap that had already been set for him.
Alaric felt like he had hit a dead end. Every route he tried led to a high wall that couldn’t be breached.
Eventually, he closed all the search windows. The cursor hovered in the center of the screen, motionless, just like him... confused.
With a heavy motion, he lowered his head onto the desk. His forehead pressed against the smooth, cold wood, while his eyes blankly stared at the keyboard in front of him. The screen still glowed, casting a faint pale blue light on his face, but Alaric couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.
"Useless... There’s nothing. Even if there were a trail, I can’t just access it. There are rules, there are laws. So, what do I do to clear my na?"
He shut his eyes for a brief mont. The sounds of keyboards and mice clicking from other students around him in the lab felt distant and irrelevant. For a mont, it seed like the world outside was moving on as usual, while he was trapped in this dark space of accusations with no clear proof.
Alaric exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. He knew he couldn’t give up, but for now... he let his head fall down. Letting ti pass while he tried to find so glimr of hope to latch onto.
The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Alaric, still with his head on the desk, thought it was just another student from the marketing departnt walking by with their posters. He didn’t bother to look up, too tired to care about anything small like that.
But the footsteps didn’t fade. In fact, they stopped right in front of him.
Alaric stayed still, but he could feel a shadow covering his screen. Slowly, he heard the rustle of paper.
"Huh?"
Reflexively, Alaric lifted his head. His blurry vision imdiately caught sight of a young man, about his age, standing stiffly at the edge of his desk. It seed like the guy had just stepped out of a practical class.
There was one thing that startled Alaric, even though this was their first encounter: the young man was holding the docunts that had been scattered across the desk earlier. But this ti, they were neatly stacked in his hands.
The guy’s eyes narrowed as he examined the papers with deep focus. Alaric froze, unsure of how to react. The other’s face turned serious, his brow furrowing as if he were solving a puzzle.
Then, a quiet clearing of the throat broke the silence.
That single sound made Alaric’s heart skip a beat.
The young man didn’t look up. His eyes stayed fixed on the papers as his lips moved slightly, as if reading fast. There was sothing about his deanor... calm yet intense. And it made Alaric feel a little uneasy.
"This is the docunt..." the guy finally spoke, his voice low. "The one that got you called to the dean’s office earlier, right?"
Alaric fell silent. Instead of responding, he quickly pulled his chair back, putting a bit of distance between himself and the stranger. His expression beca more guarded, harder to read.
"How does he know?" Alaric thought to himself. "Is he... soone on the inside? An informant for the campus? Or... is he soone planted to keep an eye on ?"
His gaze scanned the stranger in front of him, searching for any signs. The guy didn’t seem special. He blended in with the rest of the students. But... he seed to know too much about Alaric’s situation, information that shouldn’t be common knowledge.
Alaric tightened his grip on the papers he had grabbed back from the guy. He didn’t answer the question. Instead. He just stared, his brows furrowing deeper as he tried to make sense of the situation.
"Who is this guy?" Alaric wondered.
The young man suddenly smiled. Just a faint, almost imperceptible smile. It was the kind of smile that made Alaric even more curious. "I think I understand what’s really going on," he said quietly, his voice carrying the tone of soone who knew sothing Alaric couldn’t yet figure out.
Alaric’s mind raced. "What do you an?"
But before he could get an answer, the guy just tapped the desk gently, almost reassuringly, as if giving him so kind of confirmation or comfort. "I’ll help you sort this out. But right now, I’ve got a lot on my plate."
And just like that, he turned and walked away. His back disappeared behind the lab’s door before Alaric could say anything more.
"What...?" Alaric muttered, half in shock, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes stayed locked on the door. "What was that about? He ca out of nowhere, acted like he knew everything, then just left? And I don’t even know his na."
Alaric let out a long breath and slouched in his chair. His chest heaved with quick breaths, his mind still in turmoil. The papers in his lap felt like a weight.
"Even a stranger knows this is the docunt causing all the trouble. If that’s the case... then the gossip has already spread everywhere."
His head felt heavier by the second. He knew that if he kept thinking about this, his mind would snap. So, with a spontaneous motion, he turned the computer screen back on. His fingers danced across the keyboard. Not to open docunts or campus servers, but to search for sothing that would distract him.
"Forget it... I’ll just play a ga," he muttered.
In no ti, the screen displayed an icon for a popular ga among English teens. Valorant? Fortnite? Apex Legends? He clicked on one, not caring which opened fastest. The important thing was to escape, anything but docunts, news, or gossip.
Soon enough, the ga’s intro music filled his ears. But Alaric quickly put on his headset, cranked up the volu, drowning out everything else. The heavy beats of the music mixed with the sounds of the ga, filling his mind.
His fingers moved quickly, pressing the buttons, though his focus wasn’t really on the ga itself. He just needed a distraction, sothing to shut out the storm of questions that filled his head.
For a mont, it worked. His attention narrowed to the characters on the screen, the gunshots, the missions he needed to complete. The music kept him moving, helped him lose himself.
He even let himself lose repeatedly in the ga. It didn’t matter. In the beginning, he played poorly, but eventually, as the boredom set in, he let his skills shine, winning repeatedly without a care.
"If I went to class now, it would be a disaster," he muttered between rounds. He could already imagine the cold stares from his classmates, the whispers in his ears, maybe even the direct mockery. Just imagining that was enough to make his stomach turn.
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