[ WP ] `` Let grandpa tell you about the time he participated in the great cyber-war of 2018 . ''

Black spires belched smoke in the distance, throwing up a hazy veil over the horizon. The sun's red rays speared through the smog, barely illuminating the dirt under Esteban's feet. Ahead, he could see the power strips breaching the ground, like the fingers of a massive, half-buried corpse. They ran towards the center of the field, feeding into a Black Box that was as tall as a house. 
 
 Esteban tightened the straps of the Tri-Sight around his head. Three eye pieces stuck to his face, one over each eye, and one in the center of his forehead. He focused his mind, staring at the Black Box through the third eye piece, and after a moment of concentration he could see the numbers. 
 
 They spewed from the top of the Black Box, like a digital waterfall in reverse, becoming more transparent the higher they went. 
 
 Esteban grinned. After hundreds of hours of fighting in burning oil fields and hiding from literal *armies* of enemies, he had found it. After years of toiling and grinding and slogging through the World, he, *Esteban*, would be the first to claim the greatest- 
 
 A piercing white line cut divided his vision in twain. The numbers faded, and the Black Box blurred, joining the smoggy background as if it had never been there at all. 
 
 He shouted, `` No, wait! I'm not ready!'' 
 
 But it was too late. 
 
 `` Esteban, honey,'' he heard his mother's sing-song voice. Her cold fingers scrabbled at his scalp, unclasping the headset from his face. 
 
 He jerked away just as the headset fell from his eyes, and a breath of air blew on his sweaty face. The world was fuzzy at the edges, but his senses were already readjusting to reality. He was sitting on his grandfather's couch, with a pillow under his head and his feet propped up on the leathery armrest. 
 
 `` Damnit, Mom! I was in the middle of something!'' 
 
 `` Well, now you're in the middle of something else. We're here to visit.'' 
 
 `` I *am* visiting.'' 
 
 `` Esteban,'' his mother warned. She nodded at the kitchen, where an old man with white hair was gently snoozing with his head on the table. 
 
 He kicked his feet on the arm of the couch, causing it to jump a fraction, and muttered curses under his breath as he stomped to the kitchen, `` I could break into your bank account in two seconds flat, you stupid-'' 
 
 Just as he walked past the kitchen table, a hand shot out from his'sleeping' grandfather. The boy shrieked like a puppy, and the old man broke into cackling laughter. 
 
 `` I gotcha! I gotcha!'' 
 
 `` What is *wrong* with you, Grandpa?'' he tried to pull his arm away from the old man's grip, but Grandpa was stronger than he looked. 
 
 `` What's wrong with *you? * Are n't you paying attention?'' 
 
 `` Paying attention to what? This is n't some war-'' 
 
 `` WAR! Now, let me tell you a thing or two about *war, * Young Esty.'' 
 
 `` My *name* is Esteborous,'' Esteban interjected, but the old man continued as if he had n't. 
 
 `` Have you heard the story of the Great Cyber Fight of twenty eighteen?'' 
 
 Grandpa pulled on Esteban's arm until he was forced to sit in the chair next to him. He wrinkled his nose; Grandpa smelled like junk food and body spray. 
 
 `` Grandpa, I'm too busy for this. I have to get back to the World. Do you have any idea how important this is?'' 
 
 Grandpa's eyes were glazed over, like he was in some kind of virtual trance of his own. But, instead of a headset, the only thing the old man was wearing on his face was a lopsided grin. 
 
 `` Well, let me tell you how it was. The Russians had their people. The U.N. had theirs. South East Asia was a wild card, and you never knew what side they were on. As for the Chinese, well, they were after *everyone*.'' 
 
 Esteban groaned and fell further down in his seat, but the old man seemed not to notice. 
 
 `` It did n't matter how many times the U.N. cut their cables, the Chinese always found a way to splice back in. And when they did, they took down everything. Banks, grocery stores, rich people, poor people. Did n't matter to them. They were destroying *the world*. Fortunately for you, Esty,'' he clapped the boy on the knee, `` Your old Grandpa was an elite member of *Anonymous*. In fact, I was the best hacker in the world.'' 
 
 Esteban snorted. 
 
 Grandpa whipped his head around to look at him, `` What?'' 
 
 `` You were n't a hacker. You can barely use a headset.'' 
 
 `` You kids and your *headsets*. You're all so dependent on graphics and colors, and you do n't know a lick about *real hacking*.'' 
 
 `` Prove it, you old fart,'' Esteban rolled his chair backwards, and clasped his hands behind his head. A smug grin spread on his face. 
 
 Grandpa narrowed his eyes. Keeping his eyes tracked on Esteban, he moved his hands mechanically under the table. 
 
 `` What is your character's name?'' 
 
 `` *My* name,'' Esteban corrected, `` Is Esteborous, and *I* am one of the greatest hacker players in the World. I've spent more than four thousand hours improving my skills in both cybernetics, shadow espionage, and subterfuge. I'm also one of the most skilled acrobats in the Eastern Reaches.'' 
 
 Barely had he finished his sentence, when Grandpa pulled his hands back above the table to reveal a small tablet he had been tapping away on. Grandpa slid the tablet across the table towards Esteban, and said, `` Not anymore.'' 
 
 `` What do you mean?'' Esteban sat up, the grin still plastered on his face. 
 
 `` I deleted your character.'' 
 
 `` What?'' the grin faltered, `` No, you did n't. You do n't know my password! You-'' 
 
 Esteban peered down at the tablet. He tilted his head back up, and his face was white. 
 
 `` It- it's gone. I'm- how?'' 
 
 `` *I'm* the best.'' 
 
 Esteban's hands were shaking. He struggled to push himself out of the kitchen chair, and nearly fell over, `` You- you do n't know anything, old man. You did n't *do* anything. I'll hack it back. You did n't do anything. I'm the best, I can hack *anything*.'' 
 
 Grandpa leaned back in his chair, and clasped his hands behind his head. It was his turn to indulge in a smug smile, `` Prove it, you little bitch.''
