CHAPTER 51: SOURCE CODE THEFT

The soft rustling of leaves and the lazy sway of the rooftop curtains filled the air. In the middle of that silence, Alaric sat on a wooden swing suspended from the metal frame above. The design was simple, with a wide seat cushioned by a stack of pillows to support his back as he leaned comfortably.

He sat quietly on the rooftop swing. Each creak of the aged metal echoed with every slow sway of his body, creating an irregular rhythm that somehow soothed the space around him.

On his lap, a matte black laptop displayed lines of code and system flow diagrams—his own creation.

He sat cross-legged, one hand supporting the laptop perched on his thighs while the other slowly scrolled the touchpad. His eyes never left the screen. Occasionally, his fingers typed something, then paused, scanning the code and digital notes he had compiled over many sleepless nights.

Caelum wasn’t here this time. His new mentor was busy elsewhere. So the system review. This part was entirely up to Alaric. But maybe that was for the best, as it allowed his thoughts to drift freely and explore without constraint.

No other sounds disturbed him. No interruptions, no guidance. Just the soft clicking of the laptop keys occasionally joining the gentle breeze around him.

He stared at the system map he had completed two days ago. The result of intense collaboration with Cael: a complex tech structure with massive potential. Yet, the longer he looked at it, the more he felt something was still missing.

"This part... this should be for emotional transmission, right? But why is there a high delay at medium range? It shouldn’t be like this," he muttered under his breath.

He double-checked that section, tracing its data sources, signal paths, and input-output flow. Then he opened a new tab and typed quickly: "emotional frequency transmission delay cause in synthetic AI interface."

A few articles popped up. Then five more. He read quickly but thoroughly. Some weren’t very relevant, but others offered valuable pieces of insight.

One article explained how signal filtering layers could block emotional subtlety if not tuned properly. Another, an old journal, explored bioresonance technology... how emotions could be detected more sharply when using organically-tuned receptors.

Alaric fell silent, deep in thought. "What if... we add synthetic biological material to the network?"

He nodded slowly, forming a new concept in his mind. Placing it between the wave receiver and the voice converter might make the emotional feedback more genuine.

He immediately opened his old notes, scrolling to the section on AI personality design. There were some voice profiles and communication styles, but all were still in raw form. He let out a quiet sigh, then smiled.

"If I can make it express empathy through voice. Not just tone, but actual emotional resonance..." he whispered.

"It could be more than an automated assistant. It could become a healer," he said, his earlier fading enthusiasm now returning and glowing on his face.

His fingers began to rework the scripts, reassigning variables. Then he opened a folder of modular design references and selected one. His blueprint for a graphene-tuned glass wave receiver. He started adapting it to the AI voice algorithm he had built the day before.

For the next hour, he was completely immersed. He didn’t even notice that the moon, which had been above him, had moved across the sky still within sight but no longer in the same place.

The swing moved gently, following the rhythm of the one sitting on it a boy whose thoughts danced among wires and sound.

Alaric wasn’t just refining his creation. He was exploring what it meant to feel—through a machine. Something even humans often forget how to do.

He narrowed his eyes, analyzing every line that wove together like a web of functions and ideas. Since his last collaboration with Caelum, his curiosity had only grown. His mind refused to be satisfied, constantly chewing through data, theories, and possibilities.

Now, without Caelum by his side, he retraced his own innovation’s path. "If this connects like that... then that section should link to... here?" he mumbled, scratching his temple.

Sometimes he leaned back, letting his body sink into the cushions, eyes staring up at the sky as if searching for answers in the clouds. Then he would sit up again, reach for the touchpad, and open a new tab. Articles, academic journals, system analysis videos, and his old documentation all appeared one after another.

He read carefully, sometimes replaying the same segment more than once. Then he aligned everything with the blueprint stored in his mind.

Now and then, his fingers moved instinctively, without conscious thought a sign he understood something deeper about the connections between modules, impulse flows, and the harmonization of AI with human emotion.

The teenager started sketching a revised schematic in a worn notebook beside him, adding a few yellow post-it notes filled with red ink scribbles of excitement.

But that peaceful world was suddenly disturbed by something he didn’t expect.

Just as he tried to rerun the system simulation—the main code became inaccessible.

"No way..." he whispered, brows furrowed. His hands flew across the keyboard, trying to force a recovery from the backup.

No luck. Locked out completely. It looked like someone had taken control.

In that instant, his mood shifted. He sat upright, shoulders tense. Something fragile in his chest cracked. Was it paranoia—or was it his sharp instinct whispering the truth?

"Was the code... stolen?"

Then...

A voice slipped into his mind. The voice of his own system.

["You forgot something, Alaric."]

[Final step not completed.]

["Secondary backup server inactive. Bridge authentication hasn’t been reset since the last update."]

Alaric held his breath. That voice... it came from the AI system embedded in the neural chip behind his skull. A semi-biological layer that once saved his life. It only spoke during critical moments—when the system sensed danger to its core.

He quickly nodded. "Right... that’s it. That’s how the pathway got exposed..." he muttered as the realization hit.

He followed the internal voice’s instructions, opened the hidden directory, reverified the security certificates, and reactivated dual synchronization with the backup server. His hands moved rapidly, his eyes scanning the data at near-impossible speed.

But he had one key advantage that always helped him in moments like this: focus.

["Synchronization will take three minutes. The system will gradually reintegrate."]

["You’re lucky. If it had taken more than six minutes, anyone who stole it could have replicated the entire system."]

Alaric looked up. Three minutes felt like an eternity. A test of his composure and confidence. He leaned back into the swing. His thoughts raced. Who would steal his code? What was their goal? Did they even understand the power this system held when fully operational?

But for now, all he could do was wait for the results of the system scan, or maybe... an answer born from his own suspicions.

The wooden swing creaked softly each time he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. But comfort didn’t seem to matter much tonight.

The screen before him displayed a long system log he had been staring at for over an hour. The remnants of the disruption from earlier that day were slowly starting to reassemble.

There were still some delays, a bit of glitching, but the difference now was clear—the AI system was accessible again. The faint voice in his head, the one that had quietly guided many of his technological breakthroughs, had returned.

["Complete the final step, Alaric,"] the voice reminded him once more.

"The backup on the root directory wasn’t synced with the external encryption path. That was the gap they used," Alaric realized.

He closed his eyes for a moment. "I thought I had shut off every point of entry."

["But you forgot, they didn’t come through the front. They found the old vulnerability you thought was already dead."]

Suddenly, the events of the day pieced themselves together like a puzzle. The unknown access, the system crash, the loss of his primary source code files. It was the foundation of his most advanced technology. This system wasn’t just a tool. It was an extension of his own mind. And now, someone had touched it without permission.

His hands began to type again, following the AI’s guidance.

["Sync to the shadow server backup. Reopen the encryption path you hid in the first prototype module."]

"Almost there. Just a little more," he said, nearly finishing the last sequence.

And just as he said that, the connection indicator in the corner of the screen turned green. Connected and synced. The system was whole again. But relief didn’t come as quickly. One lingering question refused to leave his mind.

"Why would they steal the source code?"

Alaric leaned back, exhaling slowly. At the very least, his system was safe again, pulled back from hands that had no right to use it.

The stars above flickered like silent watchers. He let out a long breath, trying to sort through everything that had happened. "Do they even understand what this system can do when it’s fully activated?" he muttered.