Ali and Omer were called to the executive suite.
They stepped inside.
Behind them, the security guard touched the wall-mounted control panel.
The frameless glass door glided shut in complete silence.
Mr. Haider remained seated...
His attention remained fixed on the sleek laptop before him, his fingers moving across the keyboard .
Without looking up, he spoke.
"Sit."
Behind the Boss, custom-built glass shelves stretched from one end of the wall to the other.
Trophies, shields, plaques, and awards occupied every section—some presented by institutions within the Republic, many by organizations overseas.
Carefully positioned spotlights made the polished metal gleam like jewels locked inside a vault.
It was a lifetime of achievements.
Four decades of victories, displayed without apology.
Framed photographs filled the remaining spaces. Mr. Haider shaking hands with foreign presidents. Mr. Haider addressing international technology summits. Mr. Haider standing beside Bill Gates, the two men smiling as though they belonged to the same league.
This wasn't decoration.
It was a declaration.
"So, gentlemen," the Boss said at last, lifting his eyes from the laptop for the first time.
His gaze moved from Ali to Omer.
"How is the day treating you?"
"So far, so good, sir," Ali replied.
"Smoothly, as always," Omer added with a respectful nod.
The Boss acknowledged them with a slight inclination of his head before closing the laptop.
"Sajjad is with the foreign delegates," he said.
"They're finalizing the proposed site for our HT Corridor."
He glanced at the Swiss watch resting against his cuff.
"He should be here shortly."
Ali and Omer nodded.
Leaning back in his chair, the Boss interlocked his fingers.
"From the very beginning," he said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the office, "my ambition has been to create here what the West created decades ago."
"Silicon Valley," Ali said quietly.
The Boss smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
He gestured around the office.
"Haideron Tech was the first step. Under one roof, we brought together Information Technology, Construction Engineering, Public Relations, Human Resources, and several other disciplines."
His hand moved toward the architectural model displayed at the far end of the executive suite.
"But the HT Corridor is a different vision."
Ali and Omer followed the direction of his hand.
"This corridor," the Boss continued, "will be dedicated entirely to Information Technology and the industries that will grow around it. Telecommunications. Artificial Intelligence. Biopharmaceutics. Research and Development. Digital Forensics."
Omer found himself listening more intently than before.
A faint smile appeared on the Boss's face.
"Silicon Valley is theirs," he said.
"This..."
He looked once more at the miniature city.
"...will be ours."
"The Haideron Tech Corridor."
"A truly multidisciplinary technological ecosystem."
Ali and Omer followed the movement of his hand toward the miniature model.
Sensing an opportunity, Omer spoke carefully.
"Sir... during our last meeting, you seemed rather cautious about Artificial Intelligence."
He smiled politely.
"But listening to you today... it sounds as though you've reconsidered our suggestion."
The Boss remained silent for a moment, his fingers still interlocked as he studied the two young executives.
Ali decided to add his thoughts.
"The world is moving faster than ever, sir. If we incorporate AI-driven robotics, the construction of the HT Corridor could be completed much more efficiently."
He hesitated briefly before continuing.
"And... if you'll allow me to say so... during our previous discussion, you made it quite clear that you weren't particularly fond of anything... artificial."
A faint smile appeared on Ali's face.
"Today, however, you seem to have revisited that opinion."
The Boss held their gaze for several silent seconds before speaking.
He shifted comfortably in his high-backed leather chair .
"Gentlemen," he said at last, "I believe you've misunderstood me."
His eyes moved from Ali to Omer.
"When exactly did I say I was against Artificial Intelligence?"
Ali and Omer exchanged a brief, bewildered glance.
The Boss leaned back in his chair, his fingers still interlocked. A faint smile appeared on his face as he settled into the role he wore best—the visionary.
"Artificial Intelligence," he said calmly, "is not merely another software revolution."
He paused.
"It is the next industrial revolution."
His eyes moved from Ali to Omer.
"Today, people see AI as a tool that answers questions, writes reports, generates images, or assists programmers."
He shook his head slightly.
"That is only its infancy."
His voice grew steadier.
"Within the next two or three decades, AI will cease to be something people simply use. It will become the invisible infrastructure upon which nations operate."
Ali and Omer listened without interrupting.
"It will design cities before the first brick is laid."
"It will simulate earthquakes before buildings are constructed."
"It will discover medicines faster than laboratories."
"It will monitor power grids, predict crop failures, manage transportation networks, coordinate emergency services, and assist surgeons with a level of precision no human hand can consistently achieve."
He gestured lightly with one hand.
"Factories will become increasingly autonomous. Vehicles, ports, airports, logistics, manufacturing—even government services—will rely upon intelligent systems making millions of decisions every second."
His gaze settled on the miniature model of the HT Corridor.
"The real competition between nations will no longer be oil."
"Or steel."
"Or even data."
"It will be intelligence."
"Artificial intelligence."
He looked back at them.
"The countries that build it will shape the future."
"The countries that merely purchase it..."
He allowed the sentence to hang for a moment.
"...will always remain dependent."
Silence settled across the executive suite.
The Boss continued.
"That is why HT Corridor cannot simply become another technology park."
"It must become a place where AI is researched, engineered, governed, secured, and integrated with robotics, telecommunications, digital forensics, biotechnology, semiconductor design, quantum computing, and whatever disciplines emerge after them."
He smiled faintly.
"We cannot spend our future importing intelligence created elsewhere."
"We must create it ourselves."
Ali and Omer remained silent.
A firm knock sounded against the glass door.
"Yes.” The Boss said.
The security guard released the electronic lock.
The door glided open.
Sajjad entered,followed by a group of stone-faced officials.
The energy in the room shifted instantly. Sajjad looked tense.
"Sir," Sajjad said, forcing himself to smile as he approached. "The survey is complete."
His fake American accent sounded particularly awkward today, especially as he struggled to conceal his unease.
He gestured toward the men standing behind him .
"The executives from our overseas branches have finalized the site. It is exactly as you envisioned."
He turned slightly toward them.
"They believe it aligns perfectly with what our global partners, offshore offices, and investors are looking for."
A flicker of satisfaction passed through the Boss's dark eyes.
But Sajjad wasn't finished.
He hesitated.
His eyes flicked briefly toward Ali before returning to the Boss.
Ali noticed Sajjad's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
Finally, Sajjad stepped closer to the Boss and lowered his voice.
"Sir... I have certain reservations."
The words came out quickly, as though he needed to get them off his chest before he lost the courage to say them.
"They've selected the land near the old airport."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"From my personal experience, sir... I don't believe that area is right for a project of this magnitude."
He hesitated again, his eyes flickering nervously.
"There is one particular road leading to the site..."
His voice dropped even lower.
"...it doesn't feel like a place where anything good should be built."
Was it the mention of the old airport that made the Boss's hand drift to his tie, loosening it by the slightest fraction?
Or was it simply annoyance at Sajjad's interruption?
Ali couldn't tell.
The Boss slowly reached for his signature Ray-Ban sunglasses—a ritual rarely practiced indoors, usually reserved for moments when he wished to conceal more than he revealed.
As he slipped them on, his gaze drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
A shadow crossed his face.
It lasted only a heartbeat...
...but Ali saw it.
"Gentlemen," the Boss said, making a small gesture toward Ali and Omer, "please take our guests to the conference room. I'll join you shortly."
As they escorted the delegation down the corridor, Ali leaned toward Omer.
"Yesterday he was tearing AI apart. Today he's lecturing us on it as though he invented it."
Omer let out a quiet chuckle.
"His moods are as unpredictable as his vision."
Ali nodded.
"These mood swings are becoming more noticeable."
He frowned.
"Before... he was never this obvious."
Omer nodded in agreement.
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
Back in the Executive Suite, Sajjad sat stiffly, his heart pounding.
Please, God... don't let me get sacked for this, he prayed silently.
The Boss turned toward him, his eyes lingering on Sajjad's trembling frame.
"Now, Sajjad," he said calmly.30Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkb4xNnAQkK
"What is troubling you about that... place?"
He deliberately avoided sayingthe old airport.
"Sir..."
Sajjad spoke as though he were about to confess something that should never be spoken aloud.
"I don't believe that area is suitable."
The Boss gave a slight nod, silently inviting him to continue.
Sajjad tightened his grip on the edge of the mahogany desk.
"I experienced something while driving through there."
His eyes drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city skyline.
"Something..."
He hesitated.
"...otherworldly."
The Boss remained silent.
He shifted almost imperceptibly in his chair, waiting.
Sajjad's voice fell to little more than a whisper.
"It has cost me many sleepless nights."
The Boss's fingers began to drum slowly against the polished mahogany.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
For several long moments, he simply watched Sajjad.
Then he exhaled.
"Oh, boy."
A thin, weary smile touched his lips.
"Brave enough to drive through that area, are you?"
The tone wasn't mocking.
It was knowing.
Sajjad attempted a nervous smile.
"I believe the site can still be shifted, sir."
The Boss leaned forward slightly, adjusting his Ray-Ban glasses.
"Listen, Sajjad."
He interlocked his fingers once again.
"We need logic to relocate a project of this scale..."
"...not stories about darkness surrounding a site that has already been selected after weeks of engineering surveys and inspections."
Sajjad nodded quickly.
Relief washed over him.
Yet moments later, inside the conference hall...
...logic failed.
The overseas executives remained firm.
Every feasibility report, every technical assessment, and every financial projection favored the old airport site.
Normally, Mr. Haider would have dismantled every objection with a single sentence.
Instead...
...he looked cornered.
"Very well," he said at last, forcing a remarkably hollow smile.
"If you are all convinced..."
"...let's proceed."
Ali watched his jaw tighten.
For a man who usually bent the world to his will...
...he looked trapped.
Even Omer was puzzled.
The final word on any major decision had always belonged to the Boss. His negotiations were studied in business schools across the Republic.
Yet here he was...
...signing the agreement with a faintly trembling hand.
The Ray-Bans looked strangely out of place in the dim conference room.
There were no cameras.
No press.
No celebration.
At Haideron Tech...
...major agreements never ended this quietly.
As Ali and Omer returned to their floor, silence accompanied them.
"Did you see him?" Ali asked quietly.
"He signed it like a death warrant."
"The presence was still there," Omer said thoughtfully.
"But the poise was missing."
"Is the Boss really that easy to unsettle?" Ali wondered aloud.
"Or was Sajjad's story about that drifting head enough to shake even him?"
"Maybe he believes it," Omer replied, glancing sideways at Ali.
"Or maybe..."
"...there are ghosts in his past we know nothing about."
Ali remained thoughtful.
"Or maybe..."
"...like Sajjad and the others who crossed paths with that drifting head..."
"...the Boss himself once had a similar encounter on that road."
Omer smiled.
"Ali..."
"Why would a man of his stature ever take that shortcut?"
"He travels with security."
Ali was not completely convinced.
Later, alone in his office, he found himself thinking about Mr. Haider in an entirely different light.
A man with no family.
A man who had recently spoken with pride about a reckless, carefree youth...
...yet seemed genuinely disturbed by the mere mention of one lonely road near the old airport.
Another thought refused to leave him.
Only a few days earlier, the Boss had proudly described himself as the King of the Port City during his younger years.
Yet every magazine interview, every television appearance, and every published profile Ali had ever read painted an entirely different picture.
A studious child.
A quiet, bookish teenager.
A brilliant young computer scientist whose world revolved around books, laboratories, and computers.
Not a daredevil.
Not a street king.
The two versions simply refused to fit together.
Ali leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Is Mr. Haider beginning to confuse his own memories...
...or is he deliberately revealing a chapter of his past that the rest of the world has never been allowed to see?
Author's note:What do you think dear readers?
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