Aria's expression didn't falter, but a cold amusement danced in her eyes. "Cheaters? There are no cheaters in Rusted Ichor, Mr Thorne."
"With all due respect, Miss Sterling, the forums are flooded with players claiming they've witnessed impossible feats."
"A skill issue, Mr Thorne," Aria said, the condescension in her tone faint but razor-sharp.
"A fundamental lack of planning, terrible situational awareness, and a refusal to adapt. It is far easier for a proud player to cry foul than to admit they were outplayed. Unlike legacy games, the NPCs in Rusted Ichor are dynamic. They learn, move, and evolve, and if players treat them like mindless blocks of code, they will suffer the consequences."
"And what of hardware manipulation?" Marcus pressed, leaning in. "What stops someone from jailbreaking their capsule, installing third-party software, or attaching external cheating devices?"
"Basic architecture," Aria stated flatly. "Our pods run on a proprietary, custom operating system that is entirely incompatible with any commercial OS on the market, and you cannot download unauthorised software."
"As for hardware exploits, our engineers use a unique, unreleased port configuration. The capsule will only communicate with verified Orbis hardware. You can attach an external monitor to stream your gameplay, yes, but the port architecture only permits outgoing signals. No data can flow back in."
She gestured broadly to the horizon.
"On top of that, we have a localised AI monitoring every player matrix in real time. Cheating is a mathematical impossibility."
"I'm sure your compliance team will be glad to hear that," Marcus said, though he narrowed his eyes slightly. "But labelling frustrated players as having a 'skill issue'... isn't that incredibly dismissive to your consumers?"
"Mr Thorne, I don't sugarcoat reality," Aria said, leaning back as the simulated breeze caught her turquoise hair. "Over the past forty-eight hours, we have reviewed thousands of these specific complaints, and every single one boiled down to a lack of competence."
She smiled, a sharp, knowing expression. "Let me give you a live example. Yesterday, a vanguard party encountered a high-level boss creature. The beast was taller, stronger, and significantly faster than they were, but instead of strategising, one of their frontline players charged forward, screaming like a banshee and swinging his greatsword like a club. Predictably, he was obliterated, and he only survived because a secondary player was clever enough to use the terrain, trap the creature, and execute it, and yet, the first player logged off and reported his saviour for cheating. That is the reality of your 'complaints', Mr Thorne."
Marcus didn't buy the deflection. "A comforting narrative, Miss Sterling, but I'm not talking about disgruntled amateurs. I'm talking about verified footage of an entity moving through solid terrain geometry in the lower sectors. An entity that left no digital footprint, and if your AI is flawless, how do you explain a ghost in your machine?"
Aria's expression didn't falter, but a cold amusement danced in her eyes. "Ah, yes. I am well aware of that specific recording. A handful of paid content creators are clamouring on social media, crying foul play, and I can safely assure your audience, Mr Thorne, that those claims are entirely fraudulent."
"Fraudulent?" Marcus pressed. "That footage was analysed by independent digital forensics."
"Fraudulent," Aria repeated firmly. "A group of under-levelled players ventured into a high-risk sector, entirely ignoring explicit warnings from local NPCs. They were systematically obliterated by creatures far beyond their capabilities, and then to save face, they edited the playback, altered the frame rates, and are now claiming the game engine is bugged to mask their own incompetence."
"Then what about the telemetry logs circulating alongside the video?"
"Mr Thorne, you yourself noted a few minutes ago that our capsule architecture runs on a proprietary, completely sealed operating system," Aria said, her voice dropping into a patronisingly smooth cadence.
"The diagnostic tools required to extract raw server logs are entirely restricted to Orbis-certified hardware. So I ask you this: how did a group of civilian streamers get their hands on classified data streams? It is nothing more than a pathetic attempt to misguide the general public through forgery."
Marcus narrowed his eyes, catching the shift in her defence. "I see. And what policy is Orbis adopting against these corporate fraudsters?"
"Our legal team has already been greenlit to handle the situation," Aria said, her smile returning, sharp and utterly merciless. "I have given them carte blanche to deal with these scammers in any way they see fit—provided they thoroughly dismantle the lie and ensure our reputation remains untarnished."
"I see," Marcus said, nodding slowly as he let the tactical implications settle. "But there is another larger question hanging over Orbis, Miss Sterling. Why gaming? A neural interface with this level of sensory fidelity could revolutionise medicine, space exploration, or engineering. Yet, you chose to launch it as an entertainment product. Why restrict such paradigm-shifting tech to a virtual playground?"
Aria's lips curved into a faint, ironical smile.
"You see a restriction, Mr Thorne, but I see an equaliser, as gaming allows us to bypass corporate gatekeepers and reach the masses directly. If I had launched this through traditional institutional channels, it would have been buried under a decade of clinical trials and weaponised by the highest bidder."
She paused, looking out over the swaying wild grass as if watching a distant storm. "Even now, as we speak, my real-world terminal is flooded with encrypted communiqués from global militaries and career politicians. Publicly, they denounce the Orbis Link on prime-time news, calling it unethical, dangerous, and a threat to public morality. Privately, they are shamelessly placing bulk orders for thousands of capsules to use for whatever clandestine purposes they see fit."
Marcus watched her closely, his journalistic instincts flashing a sign for some juicy scoop. "And how is Orbis responding to that institutional pressure?"
"Some of them have been audacious enough to threaten the lives of my colleagues to secure exclusive rights," Aria said, her voice dropping to a low, lethal murmur that sent a chill through the simulated warmth of the air.
Marcus stiffened as he cautiously spoke, "That is incredibly dangerous, Miss Sterling. You are talking about open warfare with sovereign states."
"Yes, it is," Aria agreed smoothly, her composure returning like oil settling over water. "And actions have consequences. As of this morning, the citizens of those specific nations have been entirely blacklisted from purchasing the Orbis Link. I am well aware that our technology has broader applications; it could train surgeons, simulate rescues, or prepare firefighters for catastrophic events, and they will, but I refuse to let this frontier be sequestered into a niche corporate asset or a military monopoly. It belongs to humanity, unfiltered."
Marcus smelled blood in the water, as suddenly this was no longer a tech review; it was a geopolitical crisis broadcasting live to the global network. He stepped directly into her path, cutting off her forward momentum, his voice dropping into the steady, unshakeable cadence of an interviewer who refused to be managed.
"Let's be entirely transparent for our audience, Miss Sterling," Marcus pressed, his eyes locked onto hers. "A unilateral blockade against sovereign superpowers isn't just a corporate stance, it's an economic act of war. You are holding the most sought-after technological leap in human history hostage. Are you truly prepared for the real-world fallout when these nations decide to seize by force what you won't sell them?"
Aria didn't flinch, and if anything, the challenge seemed to delight her.
"Let them try, Mr Thorne," she said, her voice echoing with absolute certainty. "You speak of force as if it belongs strictly to legacy governments with flags and standing armies. They forget that the Orbis Link has already been embraced by a global coalition. We have the unilateral support of nations, populations, and the United Nations itself, all of whom share our vision to elevate human capability. We are not easily shaken by a few unprincipled factions."
"And the threats against your colleagues?" Marcus countered instantly, refusing to let her pivot. "You mentioned lives are on the line. Names, Miss Sterling. Which intelligence agencies are targeting your colleagues? If you are broadcasting this live to the world, give the global network the names."
Aria's smile went razor-thin. "A valiant attempt, Mr Thorne, but I don't give away my leverage for free, not even to a veteran of the press."
Suddenly, Aria froze as she looked down at her slender, elven hand, where a faint pulse of amber light was rhythmically throbbing beneath the digital skin.
The serene, majestic mask she had worn throughout the interview hardened into something cold and operational."Well, Mr Thorne, it has been a fascinating conversation," Aria said, her voice snapping back to a crisp, executive tone as she lowered her hand. "But duty calls. I'm afraid I must conclude our broadcast here."
Marcus gave a polite, curt nod. "Thank you for your time, Miss Sterling. It was an honour speaking with you, and I wish you all the best in your future endeavours."
"It was a pleasure speaking with you as well, Mr Thorne," Aria replied with a warm smile.
Marcus turned toward the presumed direction of the invisible camera. "There you have it, an enlightening chat with Miss Aria Sterling, the CEO of Orbis. I hope everyone watching at home got the answers they were looking for. This is Marcus Thorne, signing off from the digital realm."