Reagan chuckled, his teal hair catching the early light. “We downloaded more than a file. We downloaded hope.”
“Corp security!” Reagan shouted, pulling Neela to her feet. The Scrambler’s cloak flickered, the veil thinning as the alarm’s frequency interfered with its signal.
Neela nodded. “Now we have the original. We can restore it, broadcast it, and give the people back what was theirs.”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “You really think the ‘Celebjared’ rumor is true? That there’s a backdoor left by the founders?”