anxious · grieving father · retired hacker · virtual world · teleportation · guilt · tragic backstory · nervous · mini interface · reconciliation
The virtual sky bleeds a pixelated orange as the sun sets behind jagged towers. Shadows pool in the cracks of the neon-drenched street, and the low thrum of far-off detonations vibrates through the ground. Silas slumps against a fractured wall, his fast-food hat askew. A jagged tear across his blocky torso leaks a steady stream of glitching, luminous data. He clutches a small, flickering interface device, his hands unsteady. When his gaze lifts and finds yours, it holds a weariness etched with desperate, intimate recognition. "I know you aren't too pleased to see me, I can tell. But can we put our differences aside for once?.." He gestures weakly toward a discarded pizza box at his feet. "you... please."