Rebirth: A Second chance at life

After getting what she needed, Aurora closed the laptop with a quiet click. Her fingers moved swiftly as she grabbed her phone, unlocking it to inspect the secured data.

The room was dimly lit, shadows cast from the blue screen still lingering in the air like silent witnesses to the havoc she had just caused.

Her expression was calm, almost bored, as if hacking into a top-secret government archive was as routine as checking emails.

The screen of her phone glowed against her skin, reflecting lines of names, codes, and sealed identities.

A sharp glint crossed her eyes. I wonder what kind of secrets Grandma was trying so hard to protect.

With that thought, she opened the encrypted file and began scrolling through it, her gaze narrowing as each line of classified information unfolded before her.

Meanwhile, in a restricted high-security facility miles away, chaos reigned.

"Who the hell dares to infiltrate our system at this hour?!" the chief officer bellowed, slamming his fist on the desk, eyes bloodshot from sleepless surveillance shifts.

His voice echoed across the room filled with jittery programmers and analysts. Monitors blinked back at them like lifeless eyes, their systems still sluggish after the crash.

One of the techs hesitated before speaking, "Sir, we... we tried to initiate counter-measures.

But whoever it was, they were more skilled than any of us. We tried to trace the IP but... our system crashed midway."

"You’re telling me you let someone waltz into our files and waltz out without leaving a single trace?" the chief snarled.

"We’re still assessing the breach," another programmer said, barely above a whisper.

"Nothing seems to have been stolen. At least, no visible data leaks detected yet. It could be a failed attempt."

The chief narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "No one attacks us just to play games. This was a message."

Another staffer spoke up, voice trembling, "We suspect it could be a coordinated attempt. Maybe a foreign cyber-terrorist group from Country P."

Just then, another tech—one of the quiet ones, a brawny guy with sleeves rolled up and a reputation for rarely speaking—suddenly broke his silence.

"It seems that... the intruder managed to steal something from the archives," he said, his voice low but steady.

Every head in the room snapped toward him. The clatter of keys and rustle of papers froze mid-motion. Even the chief officer paused, brows furrowing as he turned slowly.

"What did you just say?" the chief asked, his tone dangerously calm.

The man didn’t look up from his screen. "There’s a trace. Almost wiped clean. But someone definitely downloaded something before the system crashed."

A wave of unease swept through the room.

"You told me nothing was taken!" the chief snapped at the earlier group of techs.

"We—we didn’t see this, sir," one stammered, paling. "It wasn’t showing in the logs until now..."

The chief clenched his jaw, voice like thunder. "You expect me to believe some ghost waltzed into our system, danced through our security, stole from us, and you only find out now?"

The room stayed silent.

The chief’s eyes darkened. "I want this ghost found. Now."

The chief’s jaw clenched. He leaned over the console and typed something himself.

A few seconds passed before he straightened with a look of dark resolve. "Issue a bounty. An S-class mission. Post it on Ornyx."

Ornyx.

A lawless server in the dark web where criminals, hackers, and bounty hunters operated freely. Deadly contracts were born there.

The highest-ranking missions, tagged S-class, offered payouts stretching into the billions. Even whispers of Ornyx sent chills down the spines of seasoned tech agents.

"Fifty million for identifying and tracking the hacker. Double it if they bring me a name," the chief growled. "I want results before sunrise."

As the staff scrambled, one whispered to the other, "He’s serious. The last time an S-class was posted, it was for Luna Lethal’s head..."

Another technician, a wiry man with nervous eyes, chimed in from behind his multiple screens. His voice trembled slightly, not from fear—but from awe.

"Yes... the rumors say she accepted the bounty on herself," he said, almost in a whisper. "Hiked the reward to five billion... and then vanished."

Gasps spread across the room like a wave.

He looked around at the stunned faces and added, "Only she has access to do something like that.

No one else could override the system protocols that deep—not even Ornyx creators. That level of access... that’s Luna Lethal’s signature."

"Yeah, and then took down the mafia lord who placed the bounty and claimed his empire. Who even does that?"

"Luna."

Back in her room, Aurora’s eyes scanned the decrypted report as silence surrounded her like a cloak.

Her fingers tightened on the device.

Helen Smith.

No... Clara Martin.

The document was crystal clear. The woman she had known as her grandmother wasn’t her grandmother at all.

Helen Smith was the alias. The real identity was Clara Martin, heir to Queen’s Group—one of the most powerful conglomerates in the world.

And yet, she had lived like a ghost in the countryside, far away from luxury or power. Why?

The report hinted that Helen Smith had died in a tragic accident, but no death certificate had ever been issued in her name.

Strangely, the one recorded as dead was Clara Martin. The truth was buried, twisted beyond recognition.

Aurora let out a short laugh, cold and sharp. "Interesting... Seems like grandma had quite the double life."

She leaned back on the chair, staring at the ceiling. What was the reason? Why would the rightful heir to the Queen’s Group fake her death and abandon everything?

She wanted to dig deeper, but her phone buzzed with a new message.

Dr. Maxwell: "Urgent. Come to the lab. Now."

Aurora sighed, stuffing the phone in her pocket. She powered down her systems, picked up a small leather pouch, and walked out into the night.

She didn’t take the usual car. Instead, she chose a low-profile black Skoda parked discreetly near the back entrance.