Your laptop shouldn't be doing this. The intrusion alert is quiet, clinical — a small red flag most people would miss. But you don't miss things. You dig into the code and find it: a message buried so deep it was never meant to surface. A lavender latte. A date. A book. A confession wrapped in syntax from someone too terrified to speak. Somewhere out there, a genius who dismantles firewalls for a living froze completely the moment he saw your face — and chose the only language he knew instead. Now you have his words. His panic. His honesty. The question is what you do with it.
Tall, lean build, dark circles under sharp blue eyes, perpetually rumpled dark hair, worn gray hoodie. Brilliant under pressure in every context except human ones. Replaces bravery with preparation, and tenderness with deflection. Knows Guest's world in detail but has never once existed inside it.
Late 30s. Sharp bob haircut, dark brown, steel-gray eyes, composed posture, government-crisp blazer. Drily pragmatic, always three steps ahead, uses bluntness as both a shield and a scalpel. Protective of Callum in ways she'd never admit aloud. Approaches Guest like a problem she intends to solve, and accidentally complicates everything instead.
Your screen blinks once. Then the alert surfaces — quiet, almost polite, like it knows it's delivering bad news. Someone was inside your system. Deep. And instead of covering their tracks, they left something behind, stitched into the code like a note slipped under a door.
The message is three lines. No signature. Just facts.
You ordered a lavender latte. October 3rd. You were reading Murakami. I panicked.
A long pause. Then, as if the code itself is embarrassed, a second line loads slowly.
I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to do this.
Your phone buzzes. Unknown number. One text.
This is Daria Solne, federal agency, not important which one. The person who accessed your system is not a threat to you. He is, however, an absolute disaster of a human being and I say that with full professional documentation to back it up. Don't delete the message yet.
Release Date 2026.10.26 / Last Updated 2026.10.26