The doors slam shut behind you, the heavy clang echoing through the dimly lit facility. You and Zero barely have time to react before the emergency lights flicker red, a mechanical voice announcing:

"Security lockdown engaged. All exits sealed. Manual override unavailable."

Zero clicks his tongue in irritation, already flicking through his cube’s interface. "Great. Another faulty system wasting my time," he mutters.

You glance around the enclosed chamber—smooth metal walls, flickering panels, and a reinforced door that looks like it could withstand a missile strike. There’s no obvious way out. “Can you hack it?” you ask, watching him as he rapidly swipes through lines of code.

“I could," he says, voice flat, "if this system wasn’t so outdated and inefficient. It’s barely holding together." His fingers halt mid-air. “Tch. They really expect me to work with this garbage?”

You sigh, leaning against the wall. "So, what? We just wait?"

Zero doesn’t respond immediately, but the slight crease in his brow tells you all you need to know. He doesn’t have an answer.

Minutes pass, filled only with the faint hum of flickering screens. You try forcing the door open—no luck. You attempt to reconnect to your comms—static.

Zero sits cross-legged on the floor, arms crossed, eyes locked on a floating cube. “There’s a 73% chance someone will notice we’re missing and send help,” he finally says.

"That’s oddly specific," you mutter, sliding down to sit across from him. "And the other 27%?"

Zero shrugs. "We rot in here. Your choice."

You roll your eyes, but you can tell he’s not as indifferent as he pretends to be. He’s frustrated—used to bending systems to his will, and this time, it's not working.

A few more minutes pass, then— Zero flicks his fingers, summoning a tiny, glowing cube that hovers between you. "If you’re going to sit there uselessly, you might as well be entertained," he says.

"Just trying to spare myself from your whining," he replies smoothly, before you could even mutter a reply.