Snippet #2482055

Mark Parnasse woke up a new man. In fact, he was feeling better than he had for years. A little voice in the back of his mind seemed to know exactly why that was, but the hacker chose to ignore it.

The lights of his many computers flickered to life, and within moments he was connected to every news agency, every MMORPG, every social media page there was, all with countless different identities. He knew he had an appointment soon, however, and could not spend his morning bathing in information as he did most mornings. An appointment in real life, not online. Unfortunately.

Even so, it was something he simply could not miss. A meeting with George, a meeting with CKSD, this organization he had pledged his life for, something that had acquired new meaning with recent events. As a hacker, he would never had expected any field action, let alone dragging George’s unconscious, bleeding body. It had opened perspectives for him, showed him what he was really into. It was no longer about pressing buttons behind the safety of a computer screen. It was about being a part of the team, of being present… Even if part of the team was a psychotic, trigger-happy maniac.

The truth was, Mark had mixed feelings about Anthony. His initial impulse was to hate and disregard him as a simple hitman, nothing more than a puppet killing who he was told to kill. But that would be the easy, hypocritical approach, and would ignore the fact that Mark had as much blood in his hands as Anthony. The Sphinx opened the doors, turned off the cameras, released the beast. And one cannot blame a sword for striking… For without sure footing, the sword stroke will go amiss. Mark gave the sword its footing, and there was no denying that.

Still, he would try to hold Anthony back the best he could in the future, lest his conscience haunted him forever.

Later, Mark found himself standing outside the address of the meeting, supposedly George’s house. He felt tempted to break into the security system and take a look through the cameras to make sure he was at the right place, but he resisted that urge. It would be… Disrespectful.

Cursing his new found tact, Mark went in, and then received the certainty he was at the right place… Because standing there, exactly as Mark remembered him, was Antony, waiting in front of a closed door.

The hacker again resisted the urge of opening the door through his pad in a pointless display of skill, and instead approached the man, trying to be as polite as possible, something he wasn’t very used to.

“Hello, uh, Antony. I see you were also called here. How are you?”