"Where will you go?" the woman asked. "The Eye is everywhere. It’s in the satellites, the cameras, the very air you breathe."
He threw his cards down. They were winning cards, a perfect sequence. But he didn't feel like a winner. He felt like a specimen. The Alan Parsons Project- Eye in the Sky
In the silence of his own mind, he finally found the blind spot. The Eye continued to drift, searching for a signal that Elias had finally decided to stop sending. "Where will you go
Elias smirked, pushing a stack of credits into the center. "I believe in the game, not the ghost in the machine." They were winning cards, a perfect sequence
"I’m leaving," Elias said, standing up so abruptly his chair scraped the floor.
As Elias looked up, he saw the shadow of the Eye passing over the skylight. For a moment, the room was bathed in an eerie, synthetic blue. He felt a sudden, crushing weight—the realization that his privacy was an illusion he had carefully curated for an audience of one.
Elias was a card player in the low-light districts, a man who lived by the math of chance. He prided himself on his "poker face," a mask so perfect that even his closest rivals couldn't tell if he held an ace or a handful of dust. But lately, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck.