Somewhere in the city, in the depths of Apex Prime’s digital underbelly, a single screen flickered to life.

  The neon glow of a forgotten cybercafé bathed the room in electric blue, casting jagged shadows against the cracked concrete walls. The whirr of outdated servers filled the air, blending with the distant sounds of rain pounding against rusted rooftops.

  A cursor blinked.

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  Then—

  A line of text appeared.

  “They think they got me.”

  Another blink.

  The text flickered.

  Then—a final message.

  “Let’s go make some hay while the sun shines.”

  A low chuckle echoed through the room.

  In the dim glow of the screen, a figure sat back in his chair, eyes reflecting the sickly green light.

  Wrecker.

  A grin split across his face, teeth glinting in the neon haze.

  “Well, well…” he murmured, cracking his knuckles. “Looks like we've got work to do.”

  The cursor blinked one last time.

  Then, the screen went black.