unlocked the chipped wooden door as silently as he could. His house, a.k.a. Jundroo Headquarters, had definitely seen better days. The floors were creaking; the white paint was flaking off the walls, revealing the pale brown wood underneath. Plush, soft couches and a grey, patterned rug used to sit in the room he was standing in during a time long gone; now a multitude of tables, monitors, keyboards and long snaking wires filled up the small space. Oh, and there was a steadily-growing pile of empty Red Bull cans piled up into one corner, but the team had agreed beforehand never to talk about it.

The rest of Jundroo's team (alternatively referred to as underpaid, overworked slaves who had one too many cups of coffee) had finally decided to take a break and party at the nearby Domino's. But Andrew had declined the offer, telling the others that he had "some bugs on Juno to fix".

But no, he had something much more important than a bug fix, more valuable than gold, more precious than diamonds: a secret. Technically, it was an open secret, since the entire team had been working on it for quite a while, but the devs had reminded each other than word of it must never fall on any SimplePlanes or Juno forums, or grave consequences would beget them. Well, they strongly reminded Andrew anyway. After he had successfully managed to trick everyone into thinking he was retiring a couple years back, Andrew had become the most untrustworthy member of the Jundroo team, and none of the devs had allowed him to access simpleplanes.com without direct supervision.

But now, he was alone, standing in the doorway of the dark, dingy house. He was alone; he was free. Free to spill that secret that had been eroding away at the back of his head for the past 3 months.

Like any other simpleplanes.com user, he booted up one of the PCs, slowly typed in his account details, almost incredulous that he was accessing the website without someone like Phillip or Nathan breathing down his neck. Almost immediately, the website's homepage flashed on the screen, with the all-too-familiar SimplePlanes logo, the SPVR ad, and most importantly, his account bar on the top-right corner with the blue "Dev" label. It almost felt like a badge of honour, something which Andrew was about to throw away in a matter of seconds.

Clicking on "Forums", the first thing Andrew noticed was a post titled "community updates?". A tinge of sadness shot through his heart: announcing the end of SP's development was indeed one of the saddest moments at Jundroo. But you're going to change all that now, thought Andrew.

With furious keystrokes, he quickly typed out a short (but slightly long) message in the comments. In that moment, his sadness, his excitement, his hopefulness, all poured out onto the tiny words on the monitor; the tiny words that would change everything.

He clicked "Submit". Hooray! It worked! Nothing ain't gonna stop me no-

He squinted at the monitor. There, right where the bit describing the secret project was supposed to be, was a bold, crude "#MESSAGE_REDACTED#". A wave of frustration engulfed him. "Dammit! I was so close! So f-cking close! Who the f-ck did thi-"

Before he knew it, a pair of cold, metallic limbs, resembling hands, were tighly capped over Andrew's mouth. The screen now flickered to a giant, bold logo of the company he represented, the company whose name belonged to the entity now trapping Andrew.

YOU'VE CROSSED THE LINE, ANDREW. CROSSED THE LINE. came the monotonous voice of the robot. No, not the robot, Jundroo, *Master Jundroo*, thought Andrew.

"Master Jundroo, I'm sorry, this isn't what it looks like. I swear I'll never do it again, just free me this once, please!" Andrew's thoughts rang out in his head, and he knew they were doing the same in Jundroo's.

Unfortunately, the inaccuracies in Jundroo's mind-reading software were not enough for the lie to slip by.

ENOUGH WITH THE LIES, ANDREW. FIRST THE SUBSCRIPTIONS, THEN THE KOMODO DRAGONS, AND NOW WE CAN'T EVEN TRUST YOU WITH THIS SIMPLE TASK? IT'S ABOUT TIME WE KNOCKED SOME SENSE INTO YOUR HEAD. The same cold, robotic voice rang out again.

No. No, please, no! NOOO! AHHHH FUUUU- were the last thoughts that went through Andrew's head before a shiny metallic object swung down onto it with a loud CLANG. Everything instantly went pitch-black.
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"Hey, that was a fun night! When are we gonna do that again?"
"Dunno man, we still got tons of coding to do."

The rest of Team Jundroo clambered into the house, chatting away to their heart's content.

"Hey, any of you see Andrew? Didn't he say he was coming back here to fix some bugs?" asked Phillip.

"Nah, he probably just went to get another pack of Red Bull. He'll be back soon enough!" The devs, not even bothering to take their coats off, plopped back down on their seats and began coding away.
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