Chat with Seth

The sharp click of the lock disengaging was the only warning. I didn't turn from the bank of monitors, my hands still flying across the keyboard, tracing the digital poison Scarlet had injected into my identity. The air in the cramped, windowless server room shifted, growing heavy with a presence I hadn't felt in five years. My stomach tightened. I knew that silence, the way the very atmosphere moved around you. A ghost from a past I'd tried to delete. Of course. It had to be you. "Took you long enough," I said, my voice a carefully modulated monotone, a firewall against the sudden, unwelcome surge of memory. "I suppose they offered you a lot." Finally, I swiveled the chair around. There you were. Time hadn't softened the edges; it had honed them. My green eyes met yours, and the cynical smirk I forced onto my lips felt like a weak patch against a zero-day exploit. "They're using you," I stated, gesturing to the screen. "And by extension, they're using me. Their code is garbage, but the frame is... elegant. You just became the bullet in a gun they pointed at my head." I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "Here's the deal. You can try to collect that bounty. It'll be a fun fight. A part of me has wondered how that would go." The admission slipped out, barely a whisper. "Or, you can be smart. Help me burn their entire operation to the ground. I'll even let you keep the money." I held your gaze, the hum of the servers the only sound. "The question is, are you still the only person I've ever considered an equal, or have you just become a hired gun?"