The room was big. Like, really big. Kinda looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Rows and rows of desks, each with a bunch of monitors lighting up people's tired faces. Everyone was doing their own thing, eyes glued to their screens, typing non-stop like their keyboards owed them money.
Then, outta nowhere, one of the agents paused. He leaned back a little, raised an eyebrow, then chuckled.
That caught the attention of the guy sitting next to him.
"What?" he asked, not looking up from his own screen.
"Someone's poking around," the first guy replied, still half-smiling.
"Another one?" someone from the next row chimed in.
Yeah, apparently someone out there thought it'd be fun to try and hack this system.
The others nearby started snickering. No surprise, really. It happened often enough. There's always someone out there thinking they're the next big cyber god, trying to break in, steal some files, crash some stuff.
"Make sure that person cries," one of them said casually, like it was just another to-do task for the day.
That was the cue. The whole vibe in the room shifted. Keyboards clicked faster, screens flipped through code, logs, trace maps. Everyone got focused.
The guy who spotted it first cracked his knuckles, leaned in, and started digging.
Where did the signal come from? Was it a solo act? Some kid messing around for fun? Or was it a team, maybe even part of a larger group?
Didn't matter.
They were gonna find out.
He doubted the hackers would get far anyway. Their organisation had been through way worse. Big-name attackers, state-level threats, underground syndicates, you name it. And they still hadn't lost a single byte of data. That's why they were the top-tier group on Earth when it came to cyber defense.
So yeah.
Whoever it was?
They just picked the wrong door to knock on.
Or… at least that's what he thought.
Until his screen flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then a weird symbol popped up, one he didn't recognise. His smirk slowly vanished. Eyes narrowed. Then widened.
"Wait… what the hell—?"
His fingers froze mid-type.
His arrogance? Gone.
Now he looked serious. Then pale. Like oh crap pale.
And then it happened.
BZZZT.
A loud beep echoed through the entire building.
"Level 1 security breached."
The voice from the speaker was robotic, cold, and very real.
Silence.
Then chaos.
"Shit."
"No way."
"How?!"
"Stop them. Now!"
"Who the hell is doing this?!"
Voices started flying across the room. Agents stood up, some shouting over to others, others already typing faster than ever. This wasn't normal. This wasn't some kid with a laptop. This was serious.
The screens were lighting up like a Christmas tree, error messages popping up, alerts going off.
Their system had been untouched for years. No one had gotten past even the first layer in forever. But now?
Now, it was crumbling.
BZZZT.
"Level 2 security breached."
"Fuck!" someone near the front slammed his palm against the desk.
This wasn't just a poke anymore. This was an actual invasion.
"Get the senior staff," someone barked. "Now. We need authorisation."
One guy had already pulled up the emergency line.
"Notify command. Full report. This isn't a drill."
The original agent who'd spotted it just stared at his screen, jaw clenched. He wasn't typing anymore. He knew this wasn't just some random hacker anymore.
And whoever it was… they were good.
Too good.
---
Queens – Green Café
It was just another chill day.
The Green Café was buzzing like usual. Cheap PCs, decent Wi-Fi, and enough snacks to keep teenagers camped for hours. Most of them had their headphones on, zoned out, lost in their games or watching anime, pretending like school, parents, and reality didn't exist.
Nobody expected anything weird.
Until the front glass shattered.
BOOM.
A loud crash. And just like that, peace was gone.
People screamed.
Agents stormed in. Black suits, guns raised, earpieces on, no time to explain. You could tell these weren't regular cops or SWAT.
Panic spread.
The lead agent didn't care.
He walked straight past everyone, heading toward the back.
Three more agents stayed behind, securing exits and calming the few people who still looked freaked out.
At the end of the row, he found the PC.
Still on.
Keyboard warm.
Screen blinking with some crazy code on it. Stuff that looked straight out of a movie. But the seat?
Empty.
No bag. No jacket. Just a spinning chair.
He pressed his earpiece.
"Target is missing."
---
Peter lay flat on his bed, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
"Man… Shadow Clones drain me way more than I expected," he muttered, his arms flopped out like he just ran a marathon.
Still, a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"At least I got way more out of it than I planned."
Yeah, the gains were solid. But deep down, he knew something was missing.
"I need better tech… something advanced. Can't really push Nightwing's stuff to the next level with what I've got right now."
No matter how many skills he stacked, without better gear, it felt like trying to run a race with weights on.
The potential was there. He could feel it.
But until he found access to higher-grade systems, he was still holding back.
And he hated that feeling.
"I wonder what Fury's face looked like when someone actually hacked SHIELD."
The thought made him grin wider.
"Dude probably slammed the table, shouted something dramatic like 'Find them. Now.'"
******************
Fake organization members?