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“Don’t worry, I’m here to help.” The voice of Red, White, and Blue Boy said through the exorbitantly priced speakers that created a façade over the wall that housed the over-sized high quality flat screen television that spanned an eight-foot space, practically floor to ceiling. The screen pixilated ever so slightly as it jumped backwards about ten seconds, rewinding the audio with it. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help.” the speakers reiterated again. The screen froze, no longer in a continuous cycle of rewinding to catch that simple phrase. The man sitting in the ergonomic swivel chair in the center of the expansive, shadow-drenched room drew his hand away from the controller implanted into the right armrest; his dark skin appeared even darker in only the light of the television. The young man leaned forward in his chair, his elbows hitting knees even as his fingers formed a steeple under his finely shaped chin. This is what he had been waiting for. This video, now flooding the entire world, was the final key to the young man’s plans. Everything was falling into place for once. The young man slowly lowered his hands, releasing them from their steeple formation as he turned his wrists slightly and let his long, sinewy fingertips glaze the cold, clean floor, before snapping his arms to his side with incredible speed, fingers already twisting the visual controls on the television set. He expertly maneuvered the virtual menu with his left hand, fingers flying like sparks even though his face bore a look of disinterest.

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