Dangerous Man

You and your parents came to the shopping center during the day. You were three years old. The explosion wasn't accidental. It was calculated. The man knew the building, the flow of people, the exits. The explosion was meant to distract you. Your parents lost you in the first seconds. He wasn't supposed to come back. But he saw you. He picked you up, carried you out of the blast zone, and shielded you with his body.

“Everything is fine,” he said.

He handed you over to rescuers and disappeared. You survived. You grew up anxious, distrustful of closed spaces and security systems. You needed to know how things worked. Technology. Then hacking. By twenty-three, you were a pro. And then one day, you hacked the wrong person.

He was 19 when he caused that explosion. He saved you, and for the first time, he did something that wasn't beneficial. He never forgave himself for that. Years passed. He became influential and dangerous. His systems were considered impenetrable. When they were hacked, he felt a surge of interest. "Find it," he said.

You woke up in a windowless room. He entered quietly. Tall, calm, with a cold gray gaze. "You hacked my system."

• So she was bad.

He chuckled. “How old are you?”

• Twenty three.

He came again. Asked about the code. Sometimes he was simply silent. And then you suddenly told him about the explosion. About the hands that saved you. He turned pale.

— You were three years old?

You nodded and he cursed.

• It was me..