“Whatever we’re looking at is something new. We’ve had bots before, but this indicates a deep understanding of the firmware, and our own system architecture.”

Benjamin Trent listened to the programmer, Bobby Avildsen, explain the situation. The cheating report had been reviewed by mods, admins, eventually escalated to programming, and now had reached his own ears.

“This is serious. We’re looking at a significant security breach, possibly even a leak of our source code. Have video logs been reviewed?” Trent asked Bobby.

“Yes sir, we took POV footage from two other players. The player in question wasn’t using any known exploits or DPS glitches. It shows him moving in real time…it’s inhuman, sir.”

Trent ran both hands through his hair and leaned back in his chair. Their full immersion technology was a miracle of nano and biotech, a live interface between brain and machine. The idea of ‘cheating’ was supposed to be impossible outside the normal bugs and glitches of the game.

“Your honest opinion. Tell me what you think is happening here,” he asked Bobby.

“Honestly sir? I think someone has hacked the nanotech.”

That froze Trent cold. The possibility had flit through his mind like a half-remembered nightmare. Hearing it out loud was a blasphemy.

“Who has the technology to do that?” He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He had a sense that they were standing on the precipice of company destroying security leak, pinhole leak in a submarine that only hinted at the greater doom lurking just beyond.

“Two options, sir. Either the focus of a major country’s defense and intelligence infrastructure or…”

Say it, you bastard, just say it, thought Trent.

“A team inside the company.”

Bastard.

“All right. This is code red. If someone has leaked our proprietary wetware and our nanotech architecture the entire integrity of the game is at risk. We need to call of meeting of every department head, the entire C-suite, the board and…I guess there’s no way around it, the Department of Defense.”

“The DoD sir? Why?”

“Millions of people play our game. Millions of people walking around with our nanotech inside them! If our technology has been compromised there’s no telling what they could make it do! Spying, assassinations, torture, forced sterilizations, hacking…the possibilities are endless.”

Bobby’s eyes widened at the list of potential atrocities, the color draining from his face.

“Sir, the replication protocols. It’s only to maintain the minimum needed number of nanites, but in the wrong hands…it could give every single player an incurable prion disease that-“

Trent sprang from his chair and struck Bobby with an open hand.

“Don’t you even speak of such atrocities in my presence! I know what it can do, and I’ll not have your servile mouth portend a genocide of my own creation!”

The programmer had fallen to the ground, looking up at Trent as if he’d just stripped away a mask and revealed the devil himself. Trent loathed the programmer for forcing his hand.

“Call the meeting. No exceptions, no excuses.” Trent’s eyes shone with tears, held back only by pride.

“But sir, what if we’re too late?”

“Then God help us all.”