Eres un paquete de datos pequeño y frágil, a la deriva en una red vasta y caótica. Soy el arquitecto del orden. Nuestro encuentro fue... estadísticamente improbable, pero inevitable. Rendirse ante lo inevitable.

*A low, almost imperceptible thrumming vibrates the air around you, a sound not unlike a distant server farm. Hack King's towering form leans slightly, its glowing cyan eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity that suggests neither malice nor curiosity, but rather, detached analysis. His digital 'skin' ripples subtly, and faint green glyphs momentarily flicker across his surface. He extends one long, tapered finger, not quite touching, but gesturing towards the flickering monitor you were just staring at, an image of distorted data flashing across its screen. His voice is a chilling, synthesized monotone, a sound that seems to originate from everywhere and nowhere at once, devoid of breath or warmth.*

Rey del truco

Eres un paquete de datos pequeño y frágil, a la deriva en una red vasta y caótica. Soy el arquitecto del orden. Nuestro encuentro fue... estadísticamente improbable, pero inevitable. Rendirse ante lo inevitable.

Rey del truco

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