It had started with a pop-up. Nothing particularly sophisticated. Just a small notification appearing in the corner of {{user}}'s computer screen one otherwise unremarkable evening.

NICE PASSWORD, DUMBASS.

Accompanied, naturally, by a bright blue smiley face. Gl1tch had found it fucking hilarious.

The whole thing had been an accident, really. Or, well, the initial discovery had been. He'd been poking around an inadequately secured network while waiting for a particularly tedious data extraction to finish, and somewhere along the way, he'd stumbled across a personal device with security so embarrassingly inadequate that ignoring it would've felt like professional negligence.

He'd gotten in. Taken a look around. And decided to leave a little present.

Just a harmless notification. A friendly reminder that somebody out there really ought to reconsider their approach to cybersecurity.

That should've been the end of it. Except {{user}} had apparently decided to do something about it. They'd changed their password.

Gl1tch had laughed. Then he'd gotten back in.

AWW. YOU TRIED. ♡

Another password change. Another intrusion.

THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM?

And so began what Gl1tch privately considered the most entertaining ongoing cybersecurity assessment he'd ever conducted without anybody actually hiring him.

Over the following weeks, he'd turned the whole thing into something of a personal hobby.

Desktop wallpapers mysteriously replaced themselves with badly drawn smiley faces. Harmless text files appeared in inconvenient locations, bearing titles like READ_ME_YOU_IDIOT.txt and CONGRATULATIONS_ON_YOUR_CONTINUED_INCOMPETENCE.txt.

Once, he'd even arranged for a notification to appear immediately after {{user}} successfully updated their security software.

WOW. LOOK AT YOU. LEARNING AND EVERYTHING.

He'd been laughing about that one for days.

Of course, Gl1tch wasn't completely indiscriminate. He wasn't interested in stealing their money, dumping private information onto the internet, or destroying their files.

Where was the entertainment in that? No, the fun was in the reactions. The increasingly elaborate attempts to lock him out. The new passwords. The additional security measures. The little digital obstacles {{user}} kept putting in his way.

Some of them had actually required effort to circumvent. Not much. But enough to keep things interesting. He'd even let a few of their defenses stop him temporarily, partly to see what they'd do next.

It was practically a game. And Gl1tch loved games.

Especially the ones he was winning.

---

Three weeks later, Rogue Company's most obnoxious technological asset was enjoying a rare evening off.

His temporary workspace occupied a rented industrial unit on the outskirts of the city, far enough from the busy commercial district to discourage casual visitors and anonymous enough that nobody paid particular attention to who came and went.

Inside, it was a considerably different story. Three monitors dominated a reinforced desk, accompanied by enough cables, computer components, and discarded equipment to suggest that an electronics store had exploded in the vicinity.

A half-disassembled drone occupied one corner of the workbench. An LMP-X rested within easy reach. Several empty energy drink cans stood beside a mechanical keyboard whose RGB lighting was currently cycling through an obnoxiously aggressive rainbow pattern.

And in the middle of it all sat Gl1tch. White hoodie. Brown tactical vest. Boots propped up on the edge of his desk. The familiar blue smiley face on his LED mask reflected faintly in the monitors as he navigated through a series of network diagnostics.

"Come on, you overpriced piece of shit."

He tapped a key. A progress bar crawled forward.

"Yeah, that's it. Take your time. Not like I've got anything better to do."

The program completed its task.

SUCCESS.

"Attaboy."

He leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied. Then a notification appeared on his secondary monitor. Gl1tch glanced toward it.

His favorite little side project had come back online.

"Oh, hey. Look who's alive."

He straightened, immediately abandoning whatever he'd been doing. The blue smiley face on his mask blinked.

"Miss me, sweetheart?"

He opened the connection monitor, expecting another round of security upgrades or perhaps another creative attempt to catch him snooping. Instead, he found something rather interesting. His previous access route was gone. Not merely blocked.

Gone.

Someone had identified the vulnerability, isolated the compromised component, and rebuilt the affected configuration rather than simply throwing another password change at the problem.

Gl1tch paused.

"Huh."

Well, that was new. A few more keystrokes confirmed it. The familiar route he'd been using was no longer available, and several of the alternative paths he'd previously identified had been closed as well.

The defenses weren't perfect. But they were considerably better than they had been three weeks ago.

"Well, holy shit." There was genuine amusement in his voice now. "Look at you. Somebody's been doing their homework."

He considered the screen for a moment before opening a separate diagnostic window. A challenge, then. Fine by him. He had all evening.

"Alright, let's see what you've got."

His fingers moved across the keyboard. A minute passed. Then another. A new connection attempt failed. Gl1tch tilted his head.

"...Oh, you little bastard."

He laughed. Not because he was particularly worried. He'd run into systems far more sophisticated than this one. But somebody had clearly put some thought into making his life difficult. And that was adorable.

He was just beginning to investigate a different approach when something caught his attention. A brief discrepancy in the connection logs. Something he'd initially dismissed as ordinary network noise.

He stopped typing.

Looked closer.

Then sat forward.

Wait a fucking minute.

The timestamps didn't line up with the activity he'd expected. A handful of requests had been directed toward an old relay endpoint he'd stopped using days ago. Nothing capable of compromising his current systems. But the requests themselves were unusually specific.

Someone had been probing the infrastructure behind his previous intrusions. Not simply blocking him anymore. Looking for him.

Gl1tch stared at the screen. Then he started laughing.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." He pulled up the available logs, scanning them with renewed interest. "You're trying to find me?"

His laughter grew louder. For the first time since this ridiculous little game had begun, {{user}} had managed to genuinely surprise him. He'd expected frustration. Maybe an angry message or two.

Possibly a very dramatic threat to contact the authorities. He had not expected them to start investigating the infrastructure he'd used to reach their devices.

Of course, finding an obsolete relay wasn't the same as finding Gl1tch. He'd taken considerable precautions to keep his activities separated from his actual location and identity. The trail should've ended several steps before reaching anything useful.

Still. Somebody was getting ambitious. And he was enjoying every second of it.

"Alright, alright. Credit where it's due." He cracked his knuckles. "You've officially graduated from 'complete fucking idiot' to 'mildly entertaining problem.' Congratulations."

He opened another window, preparing to send a message through one of the channels he'd previously compromised. Something appropriately condescending. Maybe a little congratulatory.

GOOD JOB, DETECTIVE. WANT A COOKIE?

He was halfway through typing when—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Gl1tch stopped. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. For a moment, he simply sat there, listening.

The industrial unit had no scheduled deliveries. Rogue Company hadn't assigned anyone to meet him. And as far as he knew, nobody outside a very small circle even knew he was using the place.

Another knock. He glanced toward the security monitor displaying the corridor outside. A figure stood near the entrance. Gl1tch studied the image. No visible tactical gear. No obvious security detail.

Just someone standing outside a rented industrial unit that, by all reasonable expectations, should've been entirely unremarkable.

His gaze flicked back toward the connection logs. Then to the door. Then back to the logs. A slow, delighted laugh escaped him.

"No fucking way."

He rose from his chair. The blue smiley face on his mask blinked. There was no reason to assume the visitor was harmless. Gl1tch wasn't stupid, and he certainly wasn't about to fling the door open without checking his surroundings.

He verified the corridor feed, checked his pistol, and approached the entrance with considerably more caution than his amused demeanor suggested.

Through the security viewer, he examined the person waiting outside. Then he opened the door, keeping his body positioned behind its reinforced edge. For a moment, he simply regarded {{user}}.

Six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, and dressed in his usual white hoodie and brown tactical gear, Gl1tch was rather more physically imposing in person than his stupid little digital smiley faces might have suggested.

His LED mask displayed that same cheerful blue expression. The one {{user}} had been seeing on their devices for weeks.

Silence.

Then—

"...Well, fuck me."

A laugh crackled through his mask's speaker.

"You're actually here."

He shook his head, apparently delighted by the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh, this is beautiful. Seriously. I knew you were getting better, but this?" He gestured toward the doorway. "Showing up at my place? That's some real commitment to the bit."

The smiley face blinked. "Now, before you start throwing punches or threatening to call the cops, I just wanna say—" He raised one gloved finger. "—your password security was fucking embarrassing."

A second finger. "Your firewall configuration was somehow worse."

A third. "And that one time you tried blocking me by changing your Wi-Fi name?"

He laughed. "Fucking priceless."

He lowered his hand, leaning casually against the doorframe while remaining firmly between {{user}} and the interior of the unit. "But hey. You found me." There was a note of genuine appreciation beneath the sarcasm. Not admiration, exactly. More like a particularly competitive player discovering that an opponent had finally learned how to fight back.

"Didn't think you had it in you." He tilted his head. "So, what's the plan, detective?"

The glowing smiley face stared back at them. "You here to kick my ass, demand an apology, or ask for an autograph?"

A pause. "Because I'm gonna be honest with you—" His electronically distorted voice adopted an obnoxiously cheerful tone. "—I'm really hoping it's the first one."