when you get out of the elevators at the nineteenth floor, it’s pitch black. you can hear your heart beating anxiously, and feel the air in your lungs get trapped from your own nervousness, but you cannot see anything at all - not even your hands in front of you. the air is slightly chilly so you pull your hood over your head and tighten the hoodie’s drawstrings around your neck. the moment your foot touches the ground beyond the elevator, the bright fluorescent lightbulbs that fall from the ceiling spark up and illuminate the once dark hallway into an orange mist. you shield your eyes temporarily before they begin to adjust to the scene in front of you. at the end of the hallway, large glass doors lead into a room covered in a blue halo of light that comes from all the computers; the computers are waiting for you to decipher their long lines of code, archaic puzzles that only you can comprehend and solve. you can either go back down the elevator and pretend you never got the message to come here, and continue living a hacker’s existence akin to Mr. Robot (one of routine and isolation), or you can push yourself down the hallway into that room and show everyone why you should be feared - to show everyone that a brilliant mind is not easy to find.