A groggy groan escaped Mitch's lips as he came to, blinking his eyes and shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. Worry was in his eyes as he scanned the room, and it didn't take him long to realize that he was back in the house's living room, sitting in one of the very chairs he had seen earlier. His next move would have been to rub his temples to soothe the dull ache coursing through them, but for the fact that his wrists were bound with duct tape behind the slats of the chair. When he looked down, he saw a large strip of the grey adhesive circling around his chest, binding his upper body to the seat. His legs were secured to each of the chair's with more tape, securing both limbs from just below the knees to just above the ankles. That was alarming enough, but what shot the situation from alarming to terrifying was the pair of objects laying on the seat of the empty chair: his gauntlet and his visor. Mitch was now in panic mode as he began to struggle against his bonds, screaming, "HEY! HEEEEEEY! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?! IS ANYONE THERE?! IS THERE ANYBODY THERE?! HELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

"Relax, kid. You don't need to yell." His assailant stepped out of the kitchen, and their appearance sent a cold chill down Mitch's spine. It was a male in his late thirties: black sneakers, green camo pants, a leather belt, and a sleeveless black V-neck T-shirt sporting a deer skull were his clothes of choice, and Mitch could see that both of his arms were covered in tattoos. His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and the beard on his chin was dotted with a few specks of gray. The clothes hung loose on his thin, muscular build as he picked up the Hinobi tech and sat down, making sure to have his scar on full display for maximum effect. It was successful, for when he turned to face his hostage, he could see the Brit's jaw hanging open in shock and his entire body trembling in fear. Mitch could do nothing but stammer, "Y... you... you're the Neurosurgeon..."

"You are correct, sir," he replied as he leaned forward and grabbed Mitch's chin with his free hand, closing his mouth and forcing him to look into his eyes. The piercing stare of his captor was made even more haunting when a slight flash of static danced across his eyes, briefly turning them from icy blue to glitch green and back again as if nothing had happened. Once that was over, the glitch released his grip and sat back in his chair with a satisfied grin. "And you're Mitch Williams, eighteen years old. Born in Sheffield, England, the youngest of four siblings. Your family immigrated to the United States when you were seven. At thirteen, you and your siblings discovered video games were your calling, and you became Internet celebrities, known collectively as the Furious Four. Your secondary channel under the handle MitchFTW was just as successful... and then you joined Hinobi as a Glitch Tech. That explains the hardware." Mitch narrowed his eyes in anger and growled, "I swear to God, if you did anything to my tech..."

"Hey, I just took it off," the glitch replied as he held up his hands in defense. "And I've gotta hand it to Hinobi: this is damn impressive work! I mean, you never find stuff like this in my game... not even in the DLC!"

"This is true." As soon as those words left his mouth, Mitch became aghast at how cavalier he was being in the face of his enemy. He grit his teeth as he strained against his bonds, exclaiming, "NO! This... this is insane! How in the world did you figure all that out?! What did you do to me?!" The Neurosurgeon grinned in satisfaction as he waited for the eureka moment to arrive, and it came in the form of his hostage beginning to tremble in horror. "Your eyes," Mitch said in realization. "They... glitched for a few seconds, and you must've... oh my God..."

The glitch nodded in approval as Mitch added, "But... you got the drop on me from the bedroom. I always thought that happened-"

"In the bathroom. I know. But a gamer of your acumen should know the main selling point of mine. Remember the slogan? 'Never the same game twice...'"

"'...But still the same game,'" Mitch finished.

"Exactly. I mean, being stuck in an endless loop gets friggin' boring, wouldn't you agree? A little improv never hurt anybody... except maybe a couple NPCs every once in a while. But hey, collateral damage, am I right?" The glitch let out a sadistic chuckle as he extended his leg and placed his foot on the seat of the chair in front of him, with the heel of his shoe landing a few centimeters from Mitch's crotch. "I'm glad I found you, Mitch... but I do have to admit that I'm a little disappointed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, there were three of you that night," the glitch replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I was expecting a trio, but I got a solo! Where's your buddies?"

"They are not my buddies," Mitch spat. "They're a couple of rookies who got lucky."

"Oh, like you?" The Neurosurgeon couldn't help but grin as he watched Mitch's cockiness evaporate. "Driving around in your van looking for kills to steal?" Mitch bristled at the statement and demanded, "Shut up."

"Swooping in to claim the glory because you can't handle being out of the spotlight for more than one second?"

"Shut up!"

"Hoarding all that XP like a crazy cat lady because you care more about your own reputation than your teammates?" Spit flew from the corners of Mitch's mouth as he once again screamed, "I SAID SHUT UP!"

"And you dare to call yourself a hero?" The glitch moved his shoe to the seat of the chair and kicked it over, leaving Mitch prone and defenseless as the Neurosurgeon continued to pick him apart. "Please. If those two were in your position right now, I guarantee you would've left them to fend for themselves."

Mitch shook his head in a vehement rebuke and screamed, "That's not true!"

"You say that, but do you really mean it? I mean, I've seen everything you've done, so you have nothing to hide." He reached into the back of his pants and pulled a gun from its holster, cocking it and pressing the tip of the barrel to Mitch's head. "Say there was a bullet in this gun," he hypothesized as Mitch dissolved into helpless terror. "If I were to shoot you in the head right here and now, what would everyone say at your funeral? Would you be praised... or would you be damned?"

Weaponless... defenseless... helpless. Mitch was at the Neurosurgeon's mercy as he tried to choke out a response, but all that came out was a terrified, "I... I..."

"I'm gonna need an answer." Mitch opened his mouth and prepared to try again, but before he did, he realized something about the glitch's previous statements. Wait a minute, he thought. Funeral? Praised or damned? Those are the same questions he asks in the game! This is a dialogue prompt! His heart began to race and he felt his confidence returning, but he kept his face a mask of terror as he answered with a yell of, "Praised! I would be praised!"

"Well, let's test that theory!" The glitch bared his teeth in a sinister smile as he squeezed the trigger. Mitch screamed in horror as he shut his eyes, and when the hammer swung down, a metallic click echoed through the room. The glitch chuckled and holstered his weapon before he returned Mitch and the chair to an upright sitting position, saying, "Congratulations. You passed the test."

Mitch shook his head in pretend shock and stammered, "Wh... what?"

"That was your funeral," the glitch replied matter-of-factly. "You were lying in your coffin. I was a mourner. And when I raised you up, I praised you. So... you were right."

A cold chill ran down Mitch's spine as the Neurosurgeon sat down in front of him. Those last few moments may have come directly from the game, but the gap between experiencing them through a TV screen and experiencing them in real life was so wide as to be impassable. All he could do in response was shake his head in shock and mumble, "You're crazy. You are absolutely mad."

"Tell me something I don't know," the glitch sneered as he stared Mitch down. The pair sat across from each other as a dead silence permeated the room, each side waiting for the other to make the next move. After a while, the Neurosurgeon rose from his seat and retrieved his backpack before sitting back down and unzipping the main compartment. Mitch watched as he produced a homemade pipe bomb and repeatedly slapped it into his open palm, saying, "You know who I am. You know what I'm capable of. And since this is happening now, I think you know what's coming next." A defiant glare was on Mitch's face as he replied, "I do know."

"Well, in that case, let's get down to brass tacks." The Neurosurgeon pointed the pipe bomb at Mitch and said, "Consider all this... a prelude. If all three of you were here, we could get things going, but since that isn't the case..." He reached into the front compartment of his backpack and pulled out a box cutter. "You're gonna have to be the messenger." With a flick of his thumb, he extended the blade, leaned forward, and cut Mitch's legs free from the chair. He repeated that action with the tape around Mitch's chest, but he left his wrists bound as he stood up. The Brit shot an unimpressed glare his way and snarked, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No, I don't think I am," the glitch snarked back. "Here's what I want you to do: go back to your headquarters and let your two friends know that I'm here." Mitch waited for the second half of the instructions, but they never came. The glitch grinned while Mitch's face remained unimpressed as he asked, "That's it?"

"That's it," the glitch replied with a grin as he placed the gauntlet and visor in Mitch's hands. "You're free to go." With his blessing, Mitch turned and headed for the door; he would have just opened it and left, but since his wrists were still bound, he was forced to turn around to access the knob. When he did, however, he was face to face with the Neurosurgeon as he pinned him to the door with his right arm.

"Hey, I almost forgot! There's one more... tiny detail I may have neglected to mention. I don't want anyone else on my tail except you three. If I see anyone other than you, the Asian girl, or the Hispanic guy trying to hunt me down..." He brandished the pipe bomb in front of Mitch's face and warned, "Let's just say... there will be consequences. Not just for them... but for you. Get my drift?"

Mitch nodded.

"Good." The glitch removed his arm from Mitch's chest and opened the door, but before he could leave, the familiar sound of a utility blade clicking into place stopped him in his tracks, as did a pair of hands around his wrists. "Hold still, please."

With one quick swipe, Mitch's hands were free as the Neurosurgeon retracted the blade and put the knife in his pants pocket. In a flash, Mitch donned his gauntlet and visor, drew his weapon and prepared to fire, but as he did so, the glitch produced a cigarette lighter and lit the fuse on the pipe bomb. "You wanna try? Go right ahead." A Mexican standoff ensued as Mitch kept his gauntlet trained on the Neurosurgeon, while he wielded the pipe bomb like a baton and let the fuse burn away.

"Don't do this, Mitch," the glitch warned. "I wanna see how this all ends. Don't you?" The fuse was three-quarters of the way to detonation, and that was all the Brit could take. He let out a frustrated scream and lowered his gauntlet, and when that happened, the glitch extinguished the fuse by pulling it out of the pipe. "Wise decision," he said as his quarry stepped out into the afternoon sun. "Fare thee well."

The door shut behind him as Mitch headed back to his Hinobi van, not even bothering to give the house another glance. He sat behind the wheel of the vehicle in dead, stupefied silence for what seemed like an eternity as he felt a mixture of fear and rage build within him. The most dangerous glitch you, or anyone, has ever faced. Stakes higher than they've ever been. Everyone's in danger now because of you, Mitch. How does that make you feel?

His response to the taunting of his own thoughts was a harsh, lung-shredding scream.