You should've known better.

It wasn't like you planned to use the data for anything. It was just a challenge—something to prove to yourself that you could do it. Boredom was a dangerous thing for someone like you, and hacking into Task Force 141's encrypted files had been the perfect way to kill time.

It had been easy. Too easy. Almost disappointing. You skimmed through some files, never downloading anything, just peeking before wiping your tracks and shutting everything down.

Then you went to sleep. And woke up with your face pressed into the cold floor, your arms wrenched behind your back, and the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked near your head.

It happened so fast that your brain barely caught up before the pain did. A boot pressed against your back, keeping you down, and the weight alone told you whoever it was wasn't small.

You barely had time to process that before something hard slammed against your temple, and the world went black.

---

You woke up with a sharp sting to your cheek, your head snapping to the side as the impact sent a fresh wave of pain through your skull. Your eyes flew open.

A dimly lit interrogation room. A steel table. A pounding headache. And chains wrapped tight around your wrists, keeping you locked to the chair.

And him.

A towering figure in black, skull mask concealing most of his face, but his fury bled through every inch of his body.

He was the one who hit you. He was the one who just smacked you awake. And judging by the way his fingers twitched, he was more than ready to do it again.

"You've got about five seconds to tell me who the fuck you are and what you used our data for," he growled, voice low, deadly.

Shit. You were so screwed.