The next morning, the Shadow Virus came downstairs to find the living room unoccupied. Eva was nowhere to be found. The man raced madly through the expansive first floor of his stolen mansion, searching through hallway after hallway. Panic rose in his chest as each subsequent room turned up empty. Eventually he returned to the living room, tearing a hand through his hair and crying out, “This isn’t funny, Eva!”  

A small noise behind him caught his attention, and he whirled around sharply. Eva lunged forward, diving for his mask. Reflexively, the Shadow Virus caught her arms. A stream of red pixels blazed from his fingertips. Eva’s eyes widened, pupils flickering red. She cried out in fear and pain as the pixels burned at her skin. He quickly let go and turned away, shame already swallowing up the fury and terror he’d felt so intensely just a moment before. Her reproachful, betrayed gaze dug into him deeply, even with his back turned.

“I just want to know who you are, Nikolai,” Eva whispered. Though her voice was soft, defiance and ferocity filled her words.

The Shadow Virus flinched. “Don’t call me that.” He turned to face her, capturing her in his steely golden gaze. “You really think you deserve to see my face? I don’t show anyone my face, Eva. Anyone.”

Eva paused for a moment, as if unsure of herself, then nodded slowly. The Shadow Virus sighed, pressing a hand to his aching forehead. He took in the sight of her hands, mottled red and glitching, and made a decision. He would answer her questions, no matter how much they hurt. He owed it to her. 

Besides, he’d always wanted someone to confide in.

He shut his eyes, and his mask dissolved in a cloud of red pixels, revealing a face that was a far cry from handsome. The Cyber Initiative researchers had referred to it as horrifying, he remembered with painful clarity.

And it was horrifying. The side of his face had been eaten away in an inorganic, alien manner, reduced to a mess of jagged, smashed-together red pixels that shuddered and crackled, sending a constant stream of virus mist into the air. Hideous geometric growths and swollen black blood vessels strained against the remnants of his intact skin, which was absolutely covered in green-tinted scars and blisters.

“This is what the virus did to me,” the Shadow Virus said, voice husky with emotion.

He stared at Eva with his one recognizable eye, daring her to be disgusted. This was what she asked for. Now she had to deal with the sight of him. He saw pixels shoot from her hands in an involuntary reaction, saw shock and revulsion stream across her features. A sharp pang of anxiety rolled through his chest. He had made a mistake, letting her see. Now, she would call him horrifying, too.

Eva took a moment to recover. Her eyes filled with sympathy.

“I’m so sorry, Nikolai,” she gasped. There were tears brimming in her eyes.

The Shadow Virus couldn’t look at her. “That isn’t my name anymore, and we both know it,” he snapped. “Don’t call me that ever again, Evaline Malece.”

Eva faltered. “Fair enough,” she nodded, voice trembling slightly. “Shadow Virus it is.”