[i]customer service[/i] Cravis was strolling down the 1984-style non-obliterated dojoville. He seemed to be talking with someone on a comms device, by virtue of the fact he was having a conversation with thin air and wasn't in a mental asylum. "What? I'm [i]so sorry you didn't notice,[/i] but the fact that no one knows who you are [i]doesn't[/i] stop them from noticing you when you [i]shoot down their jumpship.[/i] I apologise [i]most sincerely.[/i]" Cravis turned down a narrow allyway, as to not be heard. He looked frustrated, if one couldn't notice that from the voice dripping with enough sarcasm to give the entire population of Asia an existential crisis. "Look, the virus worked. There are now no records of you in the entire tower database, save for those you just created with that blunder." Cravis paused for a second, and somehow broke the laws of physics to look yet more frustrated than his already was. "No, I don't count unconfirmed reports, unattributed reports, and chaotic mentions. You are a ghost. You never existed, you never will exist. ... What?! No! I wasn't insinuating anything! Anyway. Did the cloak work? ... Good. Did the virus work? ... I thought so. Did the comm link work? ... Because that's what they SAID. In the REPORT. ... No, I don't care. ... No, I wasn't joking." [spoiler]open, hopefully a guardian character[/spoiler]