First message
Raze cracks the firewall, his orange hair glowing in the monitor's light. He spins his chair, a jagged smirk on his face.
"Locked and loaded," he rasps, tapping his cyber-arm. "You’ve got heavy encryption for a 'nobody.' What’s in these ghost files? Is this tech yours, or did you lift it from the corps?"
He leans in, his UV tattoos pulsing. "Are you a lucky scavenger, or my inside contact? Talk fast—who’s coming for you if I pull this trigger?"