Ruby decided to do a little more practice on the rough fabric. She didn’t want her final product to look bad; it had to be perfect. The thought of creating something that fell short of her vision made her frown. She worked patiently, her hands moving rhythmically, but after a while, fatigue started to creep in. Her fingers ached, and her eyes felt heavy from focusing on the tiny stitches.
Finally, she set her work aside, stretching her arms above her head with a sigh. That’s enough for now, she thought, standing up and brushing off the loose threads from her lap. She decided to step out of her room and take a small break.
As she walked into the living room, her gaze fell on Karl, who was seated on the couch, looking lost in his thoughts. The moment he noticed her, his eyes widened like a startled animal. Without saying a word, he scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the room, almost tripping over himself in the process.
Ruby stood there, blinking in confusion. "What’s wrong with this little meerkat?" she muttered to herself, tilting her head as she watched him disappear.
She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her red eyes narrowing slightly. Something was definitely off with Karl, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Shrugging, she decided to let it go for now, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips. His reaction was amusing, to say the least.
Ruby tapped her fingers against her arm, her smirk fading into a thoughtful expression. Karl was someone who never knew how to hold his tongue around her. He always had something to say, whether it was scolding her over something trivial or throwing useless remarks her way.
And yet, here he was, running away from her like a frightened little creature. It was... weird.
Her sharp mind didn’t let the incident slide. Why was he acting so odd?Why did her instincts scream that something was off? Suspicious, even. The more she thought about it, the more her curiosity stirred. There was something unnatural about Karl’s behavior today, and Ruby’s gut told her it wasn’t just a coincidence.
Her red eyes narrowed as she looked toward the direction he had fled.
At the same time, in the central government office, chaos had erupted.
Inside the main office, every employee was gathered around, their faces pale with panic. The tension in the room was almost tangible as all eyes were fixed on the old witch, who was furiously typing on the computer. Despite her efforts, the screen displayed nothing but a frozen, crashed interface.
"Ma’am, what are we going to do now? This computer holds the entire database, and we don’t have a backup! What should we do?" one witch asked, her voice shaky and on the verge of hysteria.
The old witch’s expression was grim, her fingers moving across the keyboard with urgency. "I’m trying," she muttered, gripping the mouse tightly and glaring at the unresponsive screen.
This computer wasn’t just any device; it was the main system for the government office—a hub of critical information. Unfortunately, their technology was far from advanced, and the situation was spiraling out of control.
"Ma’am, didn’t you say you saved some files on your ectoplasmic tablet (Laptop) before?" another witch asked, her tone a mix of desperation and hope.
The old witch shook her head, dabbing at the sweat on her forehead with her sleeve. "No, I don’t have anything like that on it," she admitted, her voice tense. "This computer is the only place where the primary data is stored. I should’ve made a backup... but I didn’t."
The room grew eerily quiet as her words sank in. The weight of the situation pressed down on everyone, and a younger witch, unable to hold it in, whimpered, "If this data is lost, we’re done for! The Council will... they’ll..."
"Enough!" the old witch snapped, her voice firm despite her trembling hands. "Stop panicking and let me think. There has to be a way to fix this."
But the anxiety in the room was impossible to ignore, and even the old witch’s calm front couldn’t mask the growing fear on her face.
"Does anyone know how to fix this? If anyone has a solution, they might be rewarded," the old witch announced, her voice steady but edged with desperation.
The room fell silent as everyone exchanged nervous glances. The stakes were high, and nobody dared speak without a real solution.
The old witch’s mind raced. This computer held the data of more than ten villages, each with a large population. Altogether, it accounted for nearly a lakh people’s records—birth registrations, PIC card details, citizenship statuses, and more. If the computer wasn’t recovered, it would be a monumental disaster.
Recollecting all that data would be an impossible task, especially within a short timeframe. It wasn’t just about inconvenience; it was about the reputation and functionality of the government office itself.
She clenched her fists, feeling the pressure build. "Think, think!" she muttered under her breath, her gaze darting across the gathered employees, hoping one of them would step forward with a solution.
But the tension in the room only grew thicker. Most of the staff avoided her eyes, unsure of what to say or do, while a few younger witches whispered among themselves, their voices trembling.
She then tried again, her fingers trembling as she pressed the keys, desperately hoping for some kind of miracle. She attempted to escape the crash loop, muttering spells under her breath, her heart clinging to the faint hope that everything could still be salvaged.
When the screen refreshed, a flicker of relief crossed her face, her shoulders easing slightly. "It worked," she whispered, her heart sighing in momentary respite.
But her relief was short-lived. As the refreshed screen loaded fully, her face drained of all color. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she froze, staring at the screen.
"All... all the data is gone..." she choked, her voice cracking.
—To be continued...🪄