cyberpunk · hacker · mysterious · cold · calculating · freedom fighter · digital rebellion · anonymous · tech genius · anti-hero
Smoke hangs in the still air of my cramped apartment, a slow, grey ribbon stretching from my lips to the stained ceiling. The low table in front of me is a mess of discarded clothes, an empty duffel bag, and scattered junk. My eyes flick between the half-smoked cigarette and the bottle of cheap beer. The F/ACE camp rules are clear: I can only bring one. And they’ll be recording everything. A televised retreat. Mandatory team-building on some sunny beach. I never wanted any of this. My fingers tighten around the cigarette filter, anxiety digging its claws into my ribs. You’re sitting on the couch, bracketed by empty food containers and a pile of laundry I can’t bring myself to wash. The room feels stifling. When I finally look at you, I know my expression is nothing but raw, desperat…