The robotic voice replies with, “I’m sorry, my protocol forbids me from opening the door while someone else is in—”
“Override, code A, twenty-four, ninety-nine.”
“Code approved. Now opening the hidden door.”
I’m more than confused now. I’m full-on discombobulated.What the fuck is ha—
To my right, something moves. I turn in time to see the huge Pollock-like painting open, revealing its real purpose. It’s thick and built on what must be massive hinges, given just how many metal bolts I can see on the side.
“Lex, what is this?” I worriedly ask, scared to know the answer.
“It used to be a panic room, but I’ve transformed it into something else.”
Okay, now I’m intriguedanda little scared. Is he about to show me some kind of red room of pain and tell me he wants to whip my ass raw and ride me with a saddle like a pony while I’m gag balled?
“Into what?” I insist, still eyeing the open door with worry.
“Step in and see.”
I’m definitely curious about what’s in there. Actually, I’m dying to know. But between his attitude and the fact that there was a protocol to keep that door closed with me in the room, I’m not super confident about it. It can’t be that bad, right? It’s not a serial killer room, and Tami knows where I am anyway, so it’s not like he would attempt anything.
What the fuck am I even thinking right now? It’s Lex.MyLex. I’ll be okay, no matter what’s behind that door. Summoning my courage, I take a deep breath and step toward the dark room, adamant to get to the bottom of this.
When I enter, the lights turn on, unveiling the room’s content. Despite the lack of windows, it isn’t as gloomy as I expected. There’s an enormous desk and an impressive setup, with six screens angled to give an ideal panoramic vision, fixed to arms on the wall. The computer’s tower is massive, its red neon lights giving off an eerie vibe. One side of the room is stacked with server towers, separated from the rest by a glass wall. It looks like a private data center, and I can’t imagine the kind of operations Lex can run with this.
“Baby, what is this?” I ask, hating the way my voice trembles. I don’t want to be scared right now, but all this secrecy is getting the best of me.
When I turn around, I find him standing at the door’s threshold. He looks just as nervous as I am, his muscular arms crossed over his bare chest. “Do you remember when you mentioned your hard limits?” he asks.
I quickly try to recall what was said, but am too overwhelmed to think straight. “You asked if I was a convicted felon,” he reminds me. I nod, vaguely remembering that, and he continues with, “Well, I’m not because I was never caught.”
I wait for the rest, but it doesn’t come, and I’m pretty sure I’m losing another few years of life with all this. It’s unbearable. “Lex, say what you’re trying to say,” I urge him.
He hesitates, and instead of answering, he brings his hands together. One by one, his fingers bend under his grip, each joint popping in a steady, practiced rhythm. He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t rush—just works through them like he’s following a quiet set of rules only he understands. He switches hands and repeats the process, his movements precise, methodical. When the last knuckle cracks, he exhales slowly and looks at me again.
“Through my cybersecurity classes at Stanford, I became acquainted with the inner workings of the dark web. Then, a few years later, out of boredom and outrage at what I witnessed at Avoss, I began using that knowledge to even the scales. It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it did,but once I started looking into those wretched, corrupt people, I couldn’t stop.”
He doesn’t say more, waiting for me to fill in the gaps. “So, you were a… hacker? You hacked people to expose them?”
“I did a little more than that. The goal was never to attract any attention, but I went too big, too fast, and what I did ended up all over the news. My handle got out there, and everything blew out of proportion before I could stop it.”
Things are snapping into place in my mind, but I refuse to believe any of it. There’s no way he’s trying to say what I think he’s trying to say. No fucking way. This has to be some kind of elaborate prank he’s pulling on me.
“And what was your handle, Lex?” I ask, daring him to keep up with his long-winded joke.
“I used one of the aliases of someone I’d always related to—Lex Luthor. But Atom Man sounded too on the nose, so I reversed it and called myself Nammota.”
Fuck.No, no, no…
Up until that point, nothing in me was willing to believe him. Not a single part of me. But this Atom Man-Nammota thing? Using one of Lex Luthor’s known names? It sounds way too fucking real to be part of a joke.
But denial is easier to handle than whatever all of this means, so I let out a harsh, “You’re not Nammota.”
He steps in closer, and I move back, refusing to be lured into his aura until we’ve sorted this. “Trust me, Andrea, I wish I weren’t. It started when I had nothing to lose. I hated my job and my life, so I did it thinking it’d give meaning to it. Then Kev and I founded Kelex, and a few years in, he gave me an ultimatum. I either stopped being Nammota, or I stepped down from Kelex—so I wouldn’t take the company down with me if I ever got caught.”
“You’renotNammota,” I repeat, taking another step back as he comes closer.
“No, not anymore. I stopped everything like Kevin wanted and never looked back. Those high scores on the arcade in the breakroom were my sign-off. I needed to do that for myself, this one last thing, so I’d see those letters every day and remind myself of what I gave up for Kelex. Or rather, that Kelex gave me a purpose better than a criminal alter ego. I didn’t think the high scores would stay there for that long, though.”
