One moment can last a lifetime. One choice can shape a destiny. One truth can dispel all the lies. One blue pill . . .

Coming in from the rain he found her on a Tuesday evening, slumped by the bathtub, and surrounded by the scant remains of an oversized bottle of sleeping pills. As she must have slipped into her dreams for the last time, a final conscious thought etched itself into the corners of her mouth and remained carved in her death mask like a Mona Lisa smile. The irony so palpable now he can taste it like acrid bile. The Feds found him there, rocking gently, and cradling her head in his lap, stroking her hair and singing soft lullabies. They left him there without a word as they tore apart the condo around him, and removed her lifeless shell.

It was all procedure and there were no grounds for appeal, the lawyers would explain to him weeks later. Tiera's highly subversive and illegal activities as an underground hacker, a black-hat artiste for hire, a cyber-terrorist and prolific software pirate amongst other such colorful charges warranted a full Federal investigation. It was everything short of treason, apparently.

Tiera was the only woman he had ever loved, she was his destiny. His world revolved around her and it was a daily paradise he succumbed to with every fiber of his being. Her beauty was matched only by her genius with computer programming, and surpassed only by her lust for life. For a time they had it all; love, money, happiness, and in an instant he was left with nothing. What does a man have left when you take away everything he owns, everything he ever loved, and then strip him of his dreams? You leave him in an inescapable nightmare, personally tormented by a living Hell. An inferno with many levels, the torture of knowing the Truth and hating the stark reality it represents. Pain turns to rage, loss turns to an all-consuming void, love devolves into a driving hatred, and learning the truth fuels his burning desire for revenge.

The ones that did this will pay. He will have his pound of flesh and more. He knows who they are and remembers their faces from that one brief meeting so many months ago . . .

. . . outside the restaurant in the dimly lit parking lot, so strange to see four black clad fashion statements wearing sunglasses at night. They barely acknowledged him with imperceptible nods as he approached and they took their leave silently disappearing into the shadows before he could offer a greeting. When he reached Tiera and stretched out his arms for a lovers embrace she shrugged him away. Her focus was on the blue pill still balanced in her open palm. How she looked him in the eye at that moment, piercing directly into the depths of his soul, he will never forget. She swiftly raised her hand to her mouth and swallowed hard. Then overwhelmed him with an embrace racked with tears, and begged him to take her home. She was asleep in the car before they reached the condo and he carried her into the bedroom.

She slept so peacefully that night and well into a lazy Saturday morning. Over coffee and eggs, she told him everything. If he had heard such a stupendous narrative from anyone but the woman he loved so completely, he would have laughed and applauded his or her imaginative creativity. Nevertheless, this was Tiera, and she had never lied to him about anything. Moreover, she utterly believed everything she had recanted, urging him to do the same. So he told her he did, it would all be okay, they would deal with this absurd new twist on reality together. But paradise began to unravel, and so did she as each day left her racked with confusion and obvious remorse. He came to realize that in her one instant of choice those four mysterious suitors and everything the represented had abandoned her. She had become a broken shell of her former self, and a time bomb of self-doubt, regret, paranoia, and shattered perception. As if they themselves had fed her those sleeping pills one at a time, they could not have done a more destructive job of ruining her life, and now his.

The Feds froze all their assets. He was summarily dismissed from his lucrative position at the Ouroboros Corporation as a security risk. The condo in Center Park was sealed and designated as a crime scene, and all he had left were the clothes on his back. For several months his life spiraled into squalor, drunken binges and a slew of friends sofas, outstayed welcomes, and eventually a park bench for a bed. Begging for change outside the Historic subway brought the change that simultaneously ended, and then began his life. A business card for Madame T. dropped into his hat amongst the coins and his fortune began to take a new shape.

Madame T. is a Redpill who chose to live exclusively inside the Matrix. She educated Tomas Wolfe on the true nature of his world, and like a veil lifted, his horizon once again became crystal clear. Working for the fortune-teller opened his eyes to a world full of avarice, duplicity, power, control, and absolute corruption. He was industrious in making contacts, creative in fashioning his new image, and diligent in fabricating a reputation as a ruthlessly efficient fixer of problems. And there are many problems inside the Matrix.

In time, he will have his revenge. One man can make a difference. Peace is an illusion and those that believe in preserving such a fragile balance are terminally delusional. The Matrix is but a tenuous house of cards, and it can be brought down by dealing the right hand to the right people, at the right time. His only chance for redemption, vindication for his beloved Tiera, and peace for his tortured soul lies in the endgame. Bring down the house of cards and the house will have to be rebuilt. Only next time, they can deal Tomas Wolfe out.