The phone buzzed unexpectedly, its screen lighting up with an unknown number. I hesitated, staring at the device as a swirl of thoughts took over. Would life ever grant me the normalcy I once craved? Or was "normal" an illusion—something I'd never truly grasp? I sighed, resigned, and answered, pressing the phone against my ear.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice flat, uninterested in whatever this stranger might have to say.
"It's about the green substance you collected," a low, measured voice began. The words instantly snapped me out of my indifference, lighting a spark of curiosity.
"You're serious? What did you find?" I asked, my tone shifting as a rush of adrenaline replaced the apathy.
"Well, first things first," he replied, a deliberate pause adding weight to his words. "We've made a decision regarding your role. Your ability to analyze a scene is exceptional, and your firearm skills—impressive. However, we'd like to steer your expertise in a slightly different direction. I'll explain later."
"Why not now?" I pressed, already on my feet. I began pacing the small expanse of my living room, circling the scuffed coffee table like a predator waiting for its prey to reveal itself.
Ignoring my demand, he continued, "The sample you collected earlier has been tested, and the results are in. Despite the contamination from your bullet—hence the green hue—we isolated key components. The liquid you retrieved matches the technology fueling the drones that pursued you. More importantly, the suspect we encountered had similar tech embedded in his leg, though it appears it wasn't bionic. That explains why your shot failed to neutralize him. He escaped, but with this liquid, we can triangulate its source and locate their base of operations."
"Sounds promising," I admitted, feeling a flicker of pride. My instincts had been correct—the sample had proven critical.
"With that in mind," he continued, his tone shifting to one of command, "we want you to transition into a tech support role, working alongside your partner. She'll handle fieldwork, while you provide tactical and technical assistance. Given recent events, it's clear the two of you can't collaborate face-to-face, but this arrangement ensures mutual support."
I felt the familiar tension rising. "A hacker? Again?" I spat the words, frustration thick in my voice. "I gave that up! I started fresh for a reason. I can't just go back to that life."
"Specter," he said, his voice calm but resolute, "why did you hack banks, corporations, and industries in the first place? It wasn't out of malice—it was survival. That guilt you carried, the decision to return everything and come clean, speaks to who you really are. But this isn't about self-interest anymore. It's about the greater good. Think about those people who are after you—are they good?"
He paused, letting the question hang like a heavy cloud.
"They're not," he continued. "Help us take them down. This isn't for profit, revenge, or personal gain—it's to stop something far bigger than either of us. I believe even she would be proud of you. The Princess—"
"Who is this 'Princess' you keep mentioning?" I interrupted, my voice sharp with suspicion. "And why does her approval matter to me? What authority does she have over any of this?"
"She's the one funding this operation, the one with a vision of dismantling this chaos and building a utopia. She's the reason you're not fighting this war alone. So maybe don't bite the hand that feeds you," he retorted coolly. "Your equipment arrives tomorrow. Be ready."
With that, the line went dead, leaving me standing in the quiet room, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud.The room was silent now, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the tension. I stood there, phone in hand, replaying the conversation in my mind.
The green substance... The liquid linked to drones and advanced tech, pointing to a shadowy operation. It was more than just a sample; it was a piece of the puzzle that I had unwittingly stumbled into. And now, the game had changed.
They wanted me to dive back into the world I had left behind, a world I swore I wouldn't return to. Hacking wasn't just a skill—it was a double-edged sword that had once consumed me, leaving scars that no amount of time could erase.
Yet, the man on the phone—whoever he was—had a point. The people behind this weren't good. They were dangerous. Ruthless. Stopping them wasn't just a duty; it felt personal. I had barely escaped their drones, and now I had the chance to turn the tables.
But what unsettled me most wasn't the demand to return to hacking. It was the mention of her. The "Princess." A shadowy benefactor funding this operation, wielding enough influence to command people like me into action. Who was she really? And why did they think her approval would matter to me?
I threw the phone onto the couch and sighed, the weight of the decision pressing against my chest. Returning to the life of a hacker... teaming up with someone I couldn't even work with face-to-face... and taking orders from an unseen benefactor.
It was madness.
And yet... maybe madness was the only way forward.