The morning sunlight poured into Zark's small room as he sat at his desk, staring at the letter Jerry had handed him. Curiosity and unease filled his thoughts as he tore open the envelope. Inside, he found a single sheet of paper covered in lines of binary code.
The sheet read:
01001101 01100101 01100101 01110100 00100000 01100001 01110100 00100000 00110001 00110100 00110011 00100000 01001010 00101110 01010000 00101110 00100000 01010010 01101001 01111010 01100001 01101100 00100000 01010011 01110100 01110010 01100101 01100101 01110100 00101100 00100000 01000011 01101111 01101110 01100011 01100101 01110000 01100011 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01010101 01101110 01101111 00101100 00100000 01001101 01100001 01110010 01101001 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100001 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101001 01101101 01100101 00111010 00100000 00110010 00110010 00111010 00110000 00110000
"What is this?" Zark murmured, his brow furrowing as he scanned the lines of zeros and ones.
It was clearly a coded message, meant for someone who could decipher it. He grabbed a notepad and began jotting down the sequence, converting the binary numbers into ASCII text.
He worked methodically, decoding each segment bit by bit. His fingers tapped the desk rhythmically, matching the pace of his conversion. After several minutes, the binary resolved into a coherent message:
"Meet at 143 J.P. Rizal Street, Concepcion Uno, Marikina. Time: 22:00."
Zark leaned back in his chair, reading the message aloud.
"Meet at 143 J.P. Rizal Street… What could this mean?" he wondered.
"A meeting place? A drop-off point? Or something else entirely?"
He left the room, clutching the letter in his hand as he found Jerry and Rommel in the small kitchen. Jerry was sipping his coffee while Rommel sat near the door, staring out at the street with a cigarette in his hand.
"What's in the letter, Zark?" Jerry asked, glancing up as Zark approached.
Zark handed him the decoded message.
"It's an address in Marikina, with a specific time—22:00. It might be a meeting place, but I don't know what to make of it."
Jerry studied the paper for a moment, then exchanged a glance with Rommel.
"This could be an invitation… or a trap," Jerry said thoughtfully, setting his coffee mug down.
"But we can't just ignore it."
Rommel flicked his cigarette outside and stood up.
"We'll go with you," he said, his voice calm but firm.
"You're not going there alone."
Zark hesitated, looking between the two men. Their determination was evident, and he knew arguing would be pointless.
"Alright," he conceded.
"But we should prepare for anything. We don't know who sent this or what might be waiting for us."
Rommel nodded, already moving to gather their equipment.
"We'll bring whatever we need," he said.
"If it's a setup, we'll be ready for it."
Jerry folded the letter and handed it back to Zark.
"You've got the time and place," he said reassuringly.
"Now we just need to make sure we're not walking into something we can't handle."
The rest of the day stretched out before them, with hours to go until 22:00. As they prepared their gear, they found themselves contemplating the mysterious message and its sender. Rommel sat at the table, checking over their equipment while Zark paced the room.
"Who do you think sent this?" Rommel asked, his voice breaking the silence.
"Could it be someone from your past?"
Zark shrugged, a troubled expression on his face.
"It's possible," he replied.
"But I've been careful. I don't know anyone who would communicate like this, not even the hackers I've worked with."
Jerry, who was sharpening a small knife, glanced over.
"It could be related to your previous run-ins with Jason Cheng's people," he suggested.
"Maybe someone wants to finish what they started."
"Or," Rommel interjected, "it could be someone trying to help us. Maybe a former contact or someone who knows what's going on."
Zark rubbed the back of his neck.
"I just don't know," he admitted.
"But if it's a trap, we need to be ready. If it's something else… we can't let this opportunity pass without at least finding out."
The hours ticked by slowly, with a palpable tension hanging in the air. Zark spent part of the afternoon reviewing different potential scenarios, considering what kind of threats or opportunities they might encounter at the address. He replayed the events of the last few months in his mind, trying to think of anyone who could have known his location or sent such a message.
As the clock inched closer to 22:00, the tension mounted. Rommel was fidgeting with some of the equipment, testing a few devices to make sure everything was functioning correctly.
"We're all set," he said, looking up.
"But if we have to make a quick exit, we need a plan."
Jerry nodded in agreement.
"We'll park a little bit away from the address, just in case. If anything feels off, we stay low and retreat. No heroics."
Zark appreciated their thoroughness. This wasn't just an exercise in paranoia—it was essential for survival.
"Alright," he said, his voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.
"Let's do this."
As 22:00 drew closer, they loaded their essentials into Jerry's old Montero. The drive was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the occasional murmur as they discussed their expectations and speculated about the meaning behind the message.
"What if it's someone testing us?" Zark asked aloud as they neared the halfway point to Marikina.
"A way to see if we're up to something bigger?"
"Could be," Jerry replied, gripping the steering wheel.
"But there are safer ways to reach out if that's the case. Whoever sent this wanted us to make an effort, which means there's a reason behind the mystery."
Rommel, who was staring out the window, spoke up.
"I've got a feeling this is just the beginning. Whatever happens, it's going to set something in motion."
Zark looked at the passing lights of the city. The roads were less crowded now, and the feeling of entering the unknown was growing stronger.
"I guess there's no turning back now," he muttered.
"We need to know what this is about."
"You're right," Jerry said, his voice calm.
"No matter what's waiting for us, we face it together. That's what matters."
As they neared the location indicated in the message, Zark couldn't shake the sense that they were on the edge of something significant, the first steps into a world that would test all they had learned and everything they were capable of. The address loomed ahead, and they pulled the Montero to a discreet stop, just a few blocks away.
"Alright," Jerry said, his tone low as he checked his watch.
"It's almost time. Let's move in quietly and keep our eyes open."
With that, they stepped out of the car, their footsteps echoing softly against the pavement as they made their way toward 143 J.P. Rizal Street. The night was still, and each step brought them closer to answers—or more questions.