THE QUANTUM COMPUTER

The night was thick with an almost palpable energy, as if the very air was charged with anticipation. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a deep, inky dark blue, Edwin found himself standing at the edge of a precipice—both literally and metaphorically. The rooftop of his apartment building offered a panoramic view of the chaos below: a city that never slept, the "Big Apple," New York City, where neon lights flickered and shadows danced until morning.

Edwin had always been drawn to the night, to the secrets it held and the truths it whispered. Tonight, however, felt different. The gravity of his situation pressed down on him like a physical weight, each breath a labor, each heartbeat a countdown to an unknown fate.

A few days earlier, he had received a frantic message from his sister, who worked for a highly clandestine organization on a top-secret project she dared not discuss with him. She had been right not to inform him—for knowledge is power, and that kind of power could get a person killed.

Unbeknownst to the movers and shakers of the city, the mercenaries who had taken Edwin’s sister were not truly after ransom. Their real objective was to keep the secret quantum computer hidden in a building’s basement—a machine designed by Edwin’s sister and an elite team of engineers to control an experimental satellite network. If they seized operational control of the quantum computer, they would gain the power to shut down global communications, cripple defense systems, and destabilize economies. Edwin’s sister was holding out, trickling operational information to the mercenaries—but how long could that last? She had already resolved that she would rather die than give them full control of the quantum computer.

While trying to distract himself from the horrifying fate that might befall his sister, Edwin scrolled through the internet. By chance, he stumbled upon an advertisement that read:

If someone has done something dreadful to you—something you cannot correct yourself—remember to look for the Samaritan. Those in need of his services can find him through the Samaritan Blog titled: “Has someone wronged you? Need help making it right?”

Edwin considered the words. He himself had not been wronged, but his sister very likely had. He located the blog and began to read. To contact the Samaritan, one could email [email protected] or call 212-555-2628. The Samaritan’s tagline was:

Pursue. Resolve. Preserve the rights of powerless individuals seeking justice.

His mission was to rectify wrongs without seeking reward—in other words, resolution without reward.

The blog closed with this statement:

The Samaritan carries out his business according to strict rules—"The Seven Golden Rules"—which he refuses to break. He expects his clients to adhere to them or face a breach of contract. His rules are:

“Tell me everything, or no deal.”

“Never lie.”

“Give me the names of all the perpetrators.”

“Never offer me payment—at any time.”

“Never change your mind once I’m on the case.”

“Never speak a word of this to anyone.”

“Never contact me again; you’ll be contacted when the job is done.”

Edwin had haphazardly stumbled across the advertisement and blog of Rex Reynolds (The Samaritan), a former special ops soldier turned lone wolf. Officially off the grid, Rex had been presumed dead after a failed black ops mission years ago—one that ultimately led to his unit’s disbandment and termination. Yet Rex was very much alive, now working as a freelance fixer for those who had been wronged or needed a dire situation resolved.

He had also been recruited by his former Black Ops commander, Buck Greenwood, who had founded a detective-and-fixer agency known simply as “The Tower.” Located inside a Manhattan skyscraper of the same name, The Tower employed several of Buck’s former soldiers, with Rex at the top of that list. Buck knew Rex’s unorthodox methods were the only way to neutralize the most unusual, high-risk cases.

After discovering the Samaritan, Edwin initially thought it was the sign he’d been searching for. But then he recalled the blog’s warning: Tell me everything, or no deal. That rule alone made him hesitate. He didn’t know enough to provide the Samaritan with meaningful information—and without it, Rex wouldn’t take the case.

Edwin kept the page open on his computer, waiting for another sign—something that would point him toward saving his sister. Each day, he watched for a signal: a moment, an event, anything that would jolt him into action. He understood the gravity of the situation. His sister’s life hung in the balance, and his decisions could mean the difference between her survival and her death. He needed the right sign—the perfect push—to guide him.

And then, perhaps, today was that day. Earlier, he had received a cryptic summons from an enigmatic figure known only as “The Shadow.” Edwin had heard whispers of this man’s influence, of the power he wielded in the city’s underbelly. Yet the name irked him. The Shadow? It reeked of arrogance, borrowing from the legendary 1930s vigilante who had also operated in New York. Was this some kind of joke? Or was there real danger behind the theatrics?

The original Shadow laid the foundation for the superhero archetype—complete with stylized imagery, a dramatic title, and a secret identity. Clad in black to enhance his mysterious persona, he operated primarily after dark as a vigilante, striking fear into criminals and rendering them vulnerable. Known for his uncanny ability to "cloud men's minds," he worked outside the law, fighting crime while embodying themes of justice, morality, and the duality of human nature. His character blurred the line between hero and anti-hero, leaving an indelible mark on the genre.

Now, Edwin wondered: Did this new Shadow see himself as a hero or a villain? Like the legendary vigilante once asked, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?" Edwin knew the only way to find out was to meet the man who had taken up the mantle.

Tonight, he would finally come face-to-face with him—to uncover the truth behind the rumors that had haunted him for days.

As the first stars pierced the twilight, Edwin wound his way through the crowded streets, the city’s pulse throbbing around him. Neon signs from bars and clubs painted the pavement in eerie hues, while the air hung thick with cigarette smoke and distant music. His footsteps quickened as he navigated the maze of alleys, his heart pounding with every turn, until he reached his destination: a decaying warehouse on the industrial district’s fringe.

The door groaned open with a ghostly creak, revealing a cavernous space swallowed by shadows. Edwin stepped inside, his eyes straining to adjust to the dim light filtering through shattered windows. Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged—hooded, face obscured.

"Edwin." The Shadow’s voice was a low rumble, smooth yet unsettling. "You’ve come seeking the truth."

Hearing him speak, Edwin couldn’t help but draw parallels to the original character—the way this man mirrored the dark, menacing style and psychological intensity that played on fear and control. He’s following the script perfectly, Edwin thought.

Swallowing hard, Edwin managed a whisper: "I have. I need to know what happened to my sister."

The Shadow stepped closer, his boots echoing in the hollow expanse. "Your sister, Maria, was a pawn in a far larger game. One of power. Of control. She uncovered something she was never meant to see—and now it may cost her everything."

Edwin’s chest tightened. "What did she find?"

A pause. The Shadow’s eyes glinted like shards of obsidian. "A conspiracy that reaches the highest echelons of this city. A web of corruption poised to strangle us all. She learned the truth: a secret quantum computer, hidden in the basement of one of the city’s most prominent buildings. Maria played a key role in its design, working alongside an elite team of engineers to control an experimental satellite network. If the mercenaries seize it, they’ll hijack global communications, cripple defense systems, and plunge the world’s economies into chaos. She was moments from exposing them—until they took her."

Edwin felt a surge of anger and grief, the emotions twisting into a toxic cocktail. "Who did this to her?"

The Shadow’s voice dropped to a whisper. "The same people who control this city. The same people who will stop at nothing to maintain their power."

Edwin was grateful for the intel but confused. Why was this man sharing information? And how had he escaped when the others—including Maria—were still hostages? "If you were one of the hostages," Edwin asked, "how did you get away when no one else could? Especially my sister?"

The Shadow’s voice grew even quieter. "Because I wasn’t a hostage. I was part of the crew that kidnapped her."

Edwin stiffened.

"At first," the Shadow continued, "I thought this quantum computer scheme was just a pipe dream. But then I saw it with my own eyes—this ‘unicorn’ machine. Next, I figured there was no way they’d capture the engineers who built it. Again, I was wrong. There they were, your sister among them. When I learned what the computer could do—hijack global systems, cripple economies—I knew it had to be stopped. So I decided to sabotage the operation from within."

Edwin, still baffled, narrowed his eyes. "How do you know me and my sister?"

"Your sister fought back harder than the others," the Shadow said. "I reached out to her, told her I admired her spirit. She mentioned you—said you were just as stubborn. Gave me this note to pass along." He held out a folded slip of paper. "She claimed you’d ‘know what to do’ once you read it. I don’t know if you’ve got superpowers or what, but I figured if I was dealing with a potential hero, I’d better match the energy. Hence…" He gestured to his hooded silhouette. "The Shadow. No offense, but you don’t look like the hero type. Still, I’m counting on you to end this. After tonight, I vanish. Just remember—I’m one of the good guys. Good luck."

Edwin ignored the jab about his unheroic appearance. "How will I recognize you when I come for my sister?"

The Shadow exhaled, as if relieved to unburden himself. "I’ll casually drop the word ‘shadow’ at the right moment."

Edwin’s eyes hardened. "You’d better. Or you’ll go down with the rest of them."

"That’s mighty tough talk," the Shadow said. "You should know these men are mercenaries—true killers in every sense. I hope you’ve got the balls to back it up."

Speaking as if channeling the Samaritan himself, Edwin fired back: "Like I said—identify yourself when the time comes. These guys are going down, and hard. I’ve got the balls, and I know how to use them."

The Shadow chuckled, faintly amused. "Maria was right. You are feisty."

With that, he stepped briefly into the dim light to hand Edwin the note. Even at close range, Edwin couldn’t identify him—the man wore a mask, his features swallowed by darkness. As swiftly as he’d appeared, the Shadow melted back into the void, his footsteps fading into the night until silence reclaimed the warehouse.

For a long moment, Edwin stood frozen, grappling with the strangeness of the encounter. One thing was clear: this man knew the original Shadow’s legend intimately. He lacked the supernatural ability to "cloud men’s minds," but he’d adopted the other trappings—the cloak, the voice, the deliberate ambiguity between hero and villain. And, of course, the name itself.

Edwin unfolded his sister’s note. Her handwriting leapt off the page:

"Contact the Samaritan. He’s the only one capable of stopping an organization like this. Beware: the lead engineer on our project is a mole. He’s been collaborating with ‘The Revenants’ from the beginning—they’re key to the mercenaries’ plan. I’m the other key. The Samaritan’s mission won’t just be a rescue; he’ll need to expose the traitor, neutralize the mercenaries, and prevent a global collapse. The stakes couldn’t be higher. Failure isn’t an option."

Edwin’s breath caught. The Samaritan—the very name that had surfaced in his search. Was it a coincidence, or fate? This man, whether superhero or mere mortal, would now shoulder a burden heavier than either of them could fathom.

As night bled into dawn, Edwin felt the city’s secrets coil around him—the corrupt officials, the puppet-master criminals, the few who dared resist. The shadows had shown him their teeth, but they’d also lit a fire in his chest. By the time sunlight gilded the skyline, his path was clear.

He would take up Maria’s fight.

Stepping from the warehouse, Edwin inhaled the crisp morning air, his resolve hardening. The night had forged him; now, daylight would test him. His first move? Contact the Samaritan—and share every chilling detail the Shadow had revealed.