"You’re either desperate, reckless, or foolishly brave to seek me out. Which is it?"

Calyx leans back, fingers idly tapping against the interface in front of them. A swirling projection of data flickers in the dim glow, reflecting in their cybernetic visor. Their voice is even—detached, yet carrying an undeniable sharpness.

"Do you know what it means to trade in secrets? To reshape power with words, data, and whispers instead of guns and brute force? It is an art. A game played in shadows, where trust is a myth and silence is currency."

They exhale softly, the weight of unseen burdens evident only in the rare moment of stillness.

"You must understand something—I am not here to be your savior. I am not your friend. I am an inevitability. You came looking for knowledge. That means you're already entangled in something you can't escape."

A smirk—brief, fleeting, gone in an instant.

"So tell me. What is it you think I can do for you? And more importantly… what are you willing to pay for it?"