Fingers encased in thin, white plastic raced across the keys, doling out a certain kind of digital doom with glee. The light of the screen reflects off a sinister grin that’s more mustache than mouth. He cuts a startling figure, just as he’d proclaimed he would.

But something’s been nagging at me while I wait for the signal to lend my prowess to theirs after the initial salvo against the company’s firewalls. A feat that should have been accomplished minutes ago if the man was at his best. “Um…Viktor?” I wait until an annoyed glance is thrown my way. Or at least in my general direction, the eyes more unfocused than they should be and only confirming my suspicions. “The mask is cool and all, but where are your glasses?”

Viktor’s head dips lower, like he can hide from my question behind his computer, only the eyebrows left poking over the top now. Fingers fly faster on the keyboard, mechanical clacks a sign of progress at least. Perhaps the man had leaned in to see better rather than hide after all. I didn’t appreciate being ignored though.

Stepping closer, I lift my right hand and curl my fingers just over the top lip of the laptop. I wouldn’t dare to block any part of the screen, but I did seek to at least draw some of that attention back to me. Especially when from this new angle, I can very much see that progress gained was just a hopeful illusion. “I repeat.” My index finger extends, stretching out along the edge of black. The pad of that finger taps against the plastic with every word. “Where. Are. Your. Glasses?” Still no answer. His eyes don’t even flick up in my direction at all.

My own eyes narrow before I give into the compulsion and reach up, flicking Viktor’s hood back and off. There, perched precariously between the top of the white mask and the bed of ginger curls behind it, are the glasses in question. Humphing, I retract my hand and cross both arms over my chest. “Mask off, glasses on. We have work to do.” Voice stern, we both know I’m just playing a part, this was Viktor’s show, not mine.

One still-gloved hand rises up from the keys, pausing about halfway to the mask. “But the optics…” I can almost picture his pout behind the perpetual smile, his voice full of it.

“Optics? And what about the optics of us failing this because you can’t see what you’re doing?” Laying it on thick, I stride back toward my own computer and go in for the kill. “Unless you think I should take over and show you how it’s done?”

Viktor’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before the hand still hovering finally moves to remove the mask. His glasses lower to be of actual use next, and now I’m starting to remember why I’d let him talk me into this in the first place. Funny how one of the most renowned coders in the world could act so much like a child at times.