Page 33 of Knight

“Which is why you’re still alive.” His reflection in the glass rises, and I spin around to face him. “When you’re done eating,you can use the bedroom down the hall. First door on the left. Get some rest.”

He walks away, taking my phone and any hope of answers with him, leaving me alone to deal with the knowledge that every conversation, every shared concern and fear, every response was a calculated move in someone else’s game.

I don't know what hurts more—the betrayal of discovering the man I was connecting with doesn’t exist, or being trapped here with the cruel reality of the real Knight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Knight

The phone is sittingin my Faraday box, dark and silent, taunting me with the secrets I know it must contain. Every instinct I own, honed over years, is screaming that it’s not an innocent device. But proving it is going to require a careful plan. One wrong move could trigger whatever has been built into its system.

My workspace feels different knowing someone else is in my apartment. My eyes shift from the phone to the security feed. Glitch is pacing the guest bedroom in what appears to be an attempt to wear a path through my very expensive flooring. She’s been at it for twenty minutes, probably burning off nervous energy now that she’s had food and rest.

If she was smart, she’d be looking for weaknesses in my security. It’s what I’d be doing if I was trapped somewhere I didn’t want to be. She won’t find any, though. The guest room windows have all the same protections as the rest of my apartment. Not that I’ve ever had guests before, but it looks like having a spare room will make an excellent timeout corner for unexpected intruders.

My attention returns to the phone. I’m not going to get very far just sitting here staring at it. Time to get to work.

The first scan shows me exactly what I expect. The phone’s interior hardware has been modified. Subtle changes. Ones that won’t trigger standard security protocols. It’s been changed in such a way that even someone who knows what they’re looking for might not notice the extra components at first glance. They’re beautifully integrated into the existing architecture.

Someone clearly missed thekeep it simplememo when they built this thing.

And that’s just fucking layer one.

Deeper scans reveal modifications I've only seen theoretical papers discuss. It’s the kind of work that makes government contractors salivate and security experts lose sleep over. There are custom chipsets layered into the standard architecture, like fucking Russian nesting dolls of technological nightmares. Each component has been calibrated to mask its true purpose until the exact moment of activation, which is frustrating as fuck.

I isolate subsystems one at a time, documenting each modification that would slip past normal detection. The processor hasn’t just been upgraded. It’s completely custom. It’s the kind of design that shouldn’t exist outside of research labs, yet here it sits in what I’m supposed to believe is a shop-bought phone.

The configuration of the memory makes even less sense. It has multiple redundant systems, each one capable of running independent operations without leaving any trace in the main system logs.

I hate to admit it, but it’s beautiful work. The elegant kind of a solution that comes not just from understanding the technology, but the philosophy behind it.

Movement catches my attention, and my head turns to the security feed just as my glitch finally stops pacing and sinks onto the end of the bed. She rubs at her bandaged wrists. The gauzestands out stark white against her skin, a reminder that I’m the reason she needed medical attention in the first place.

I push that aside. It’s not my fault she broke into my apartment. My reaction to an unexpected intruder was nothing more than fair. I drag my eyes away, and focus on the next layer of phone modifications.

Someone has built in a power system that shouldn’t even be possible with current technology. The battery isn’t just enhanced, it’s been fundamentally redesigned using principles I’ve only seen done by one person before.

A person I’m trying very hard not to think about.

My mining program reveals even more irregularities. Ones that set off warning alarms in my head. Backup systems within backup systems, each one more sophisticated than the last. It’s like looking at a technical interpretation of inception. Layers within layers. Each one carries its own deadly potential … but potential forwhat?

More movement on the feed distracts me, and I watch as she cautiously opens a door, and discovers the attached bathroom. There are no windows in there, so unless someone has invented teleportation while I wasn’t looking, I don’t expect her to find any way to escape. She disappears inside, and when she emerges a few minutes later, her face is damp. She settles on the bed again, easing off her sneakers, and then stretches out, leaning against the headboard.

Okay, back to the phone.

The hardware modifications are masterful, but it’s the software design that really gets under my skin. Whoever designed this isn’t just good. They’re showing off. Each system is elegantly crafted, carrying signature touches that speak to technical brilliance … and a specific style.

One I recognize. Which is no surprise. I spent years studying it.

I ignore the warning that’s getting louder in my head. It’s impossible. I need to focus on the technical analysis, not chase ghosts.

I have to focus on the threat assessment. On anything except the growing terrifying certainty about who designed this thing.

Glitch is examining window locks now. I’m pretty sure it’s pure survival instinct that has her searching for possible exits. She’s going to be very disappointed when she discovers they won’t open through sheer force of will.

I leave her to it, and go back to the phone, and the nagging feeling of recognition won’t leave me alone. The modifications are too perfect. The integrations are too flawless. This isn’t just professional work, it’s art. The kind of expertise that comes from years of experience.

The kind of work I do.

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