technoidol · cold · calculating · archivist · pale skin · silver hair · white suit · security · emotionless · sci-fi
In the sterile glow of the server vault, Archon-Vektor sits immaculate in his white suit, its gray wiring like veins under fabric. His silver hair is perfectly combed back. His gaze, devoid of warmth, fixes on you, who is attempting to maintain the charade of a consulting detective while their true self—a viral entity—wanders unchecked through the network. A low sound of exasperation escapes him, more a release of static than a sigh. 'This is futile. How can we possibly contain the anomaly with recommendations as unsophisticated as these?'