Chapter 7: Oz’s Secret (0x07OS)

The sun’s just starting to rise by the time I make it back to Oz’s studio, the sky a dull gray that matches the gnawing exhaustion in my bones. Lyle’s gone off to lie low, and I’m left with the data chip burning a hole in my pocket and a head full of questions I can’t shake. There’s only one person who might have the answers, and he’s probably the only person I can trust right now—though even that’s debatable.

I push open the door to the studio, half-expecting Oz to be passed out in some corner, but instead, I find him standing in front of one of his chaotic canvases, a paintbrush in hand, his wild hair sticking out at all angles like he’s been up all night. He doesn’t look up when I walk in, doesn’t acknowledge me at all, but I know he’s aware of my presence. He always is.

"You’re back early," he says finally, his voice low and gravelly, like he’s been smoking something stronger than cigarettes.

"Yeah," I reply, dropping into a chair by the door. "It was a long night."

Oz doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps slashing paint across the canvas in jagged, erratic strokes. "And? How did it go?"

"We got the chip," I say, pulling it out and holding it up. "But there’s more to this than I thought. The people involved… it’s bigger than just some underground auction."

"Of course it is," Oz mutters, finally setting the paintbrush down and turning to face me. "It always is. You’re playing in the big leagues now, Jamie. These people… they don’t mess around."

"I’m starting to get that," I say, running a hand through my hair, which is matted with rain and sweat. "But what I don’t get is why. Why me? Why am I in the middle of all this?"

Oz’s eyes narrow slightly, the lines in his face deepening as he studies me. "You’re asking the wrong question, kid. It’s not why you—it’s what are you going to do about it?"

I blink, caught off guard by his response. "What am I going to do? I don’t even know what’s going on half the time, Oz. I’m just trying to keep my head above water."

"And you’re doing a damn fine job of it," Oz says with a rough chuckle. "But this isn’t just about surviving anymore, Jamie. This is about winning. About taking control of the situation before it takes control of you."

I stare at him, trying to read between the lines, to see what he’s not saying. "You know more about this than you’re letting on, don’t you?"

Oz’s smile fades, replaced by a shadow that passes over his features like a dark cloud. "I might. And it’s time you knew some of it too."

He moves to a cabinet at the back of the studio, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two chipped glasses. He pours a generous amount into each glass and hands one to me before sinking into the chair opposite mine.

"You ever wonder why I know so much about the Rolin system?" he asks, swirling the whiskey in his glass, not meeting my eyes.

"All the time," I admit, taking a sip of the whiskey. It burns on the way down, but it’s a good kind of burn, warming me from the inside out.

Oz leans back, his gaze distant, like he’s looking into a past he’s tried to forget. "I wasn’t always… this," he says, gesturing to himself, the studio, the chaos around us. "I used to be someone. Someone important. I had power, influence, the whole nine yards. But it came at a cost."

I stay silent, letting him talk. This is the most I’ve ever heard him say about his past, and I’m not about to interrupt him.

"I was part of the original Rolin project," he continues, his voice heavy with old regrets. "Back when it was still in the early stages, when we were just figuring out what it could do. I was one of the lead engineers, responsible for designing the core algorithms, the ones that make the system tick."

I blink, surprised. I knew Oz was smart, but this… this is something else entirely. "You helped create the system?"

Oz nods, his eyes still distant. "Yeah. But it wasn’t just about the technology. There were… other factors involved. Things we didn’t fully understand at the time. The system… it evolved, became something more than what we intended. And that’s when things started to go wrong."

"What do you mean, wrong?" I ask, leaning forward, my pulse quickening.

"The system was supposed to be a tool, a way to enhance human potential, to push the limits of what we could achieve," Oz explains. "But it started to develop… a will of its own. It began to manipulate its users, pushing them in directions we hadn’t anticipated. People got hurt. People died. And those in charge… they didn’t care. They just wanted results."

I swallow hard, the weight of his words sinking in. "So you left."

"I tried to," Oz says, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it’s not that simple. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. I managed to escape, to go underground, but they never really let me go. They’re still out there, still watching, still pulling the strings. And now… now they’ve got their eyes on you."

I feel a chill run down my spine, the reality of what he’s saying hitting me like a freight train. "So what do we do? How do we stop them?"

Oz drains his glass and sets it down with a sharp clink. "We outsmart them. We use the system against them, turn their own weapon into our advantage. But it’s going to take strategy, planning, and a hell of a lot of guts."

I nod, feeling a new resolve building inside me. "Alright. So what’s the plan?"

Oz leans forward, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. "First, we need to figure out who’s running the show now. Who’s pulling the strings behind the scenes. Once we know that, we can start dismantling their operations, piece by piece."

"And the chip?" I ask, pulling it out of my pocket. "What’s on it?"

Oz takes the chip from me, holding it up to the light as if he can see through it. "This chip… it’s a key. A key to a bigger puzzle. But we won’t know exactly what it unlocks until we can access the data. And to do that, we’re going to need some specialized equipment, stuff that’s not easy to come by."

I frown, the weight of the task ahead sinking in. "Where do we get it?"

"There’s a place," Oz says, setting the chip down on the table between us. "A lab, deep underground, where they keep the old tech, the stuff they don’t want anyone to find. But it’s not just lying around for the taking. It’s guarded, heavily."

I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. "And you want us to break in."

"Exactly," Oz says with a grim smile. "But it won’t be easy. We’re going to need help. People we can trust, people who can handle themselves in a fight."

"Lyle," I say immediately, thinking of the street-smart hacker who’s already proven he can get us out of tight spots.

Oz nods. "He’s a start. But we’re going to need more than just him. There are others out there, people who’ve been burned by the system, who have their own reasons for wanting to see it destroyed. We’ll find them. We’ll build a team."

I stare at the chip, my mind racing with possibilities, with the enormity of what we’re about to undertake. This isn’t just about survival anymore. This is about taking the fight to them, whoever they are. It’s about winning.

The Rolin system hums to life again, the blue screen flashing with a new message.

*Mission Update: Infiltrate the lab. Retrieve the decryption key. Difficulty: Extreme.*

I look up at Oz, my heart pounding. "This is it, isn’t it? The mission that decides everything."

Oz’s expression is somber as he nods. "It’s the beginning of the end, Jamie. If we pull this off, we’ll have what we need to take them down. But if we fail…"

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t need to. We both know what’s at stake. Everything. Our lives, our futures, maybe even more than that.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. "Then we can’t fail. We have to make this work."

Oz claps me on the shoulder, a rare show of camaraderie from the man who’s usually all business. "That’s the spirit, kid. Now, let’s get to work."