She was so caught up in the hacking process that she lost her ears and senses to the machine. There was just too much here to do and not enough time. Between copying the data over and digging deeper, Tasi was finding all she needed -- and then some. The "and then some" was mainly for her own benefit. After all, it's hard to turn a greedy inventor into strictly a law enforcement engineer.

Easily excited and so engrossed in everything she did, Tasi was left exposed and unknowingly in harms way -- or so it would seem. With no one but the two-tone girl in the room, it became the ideal time to escape. Only, as soon as the escape become an opening, it fled. Why? Well, the screen was too interesting. Taking slow, silent steps forward, the escapee cocked his head to the side. He watched everything she did. It was impressive and if he wasn't a fast reader, he probably would have missed everything up on the screen. For a brief second, he actually pulled out his smartphone and started taking notes. Then, upon realizing what he was doing, he decided to stop. It was just too weird for him. After all, who was to say this wasn't the killer. The one who caused him to hid in that secret cabinet. The one that he was told knew about Sven Void, his arch-nemesis.

How had he been so lucky to be alive? Well, that was the thing about Androw Galeron. He was just a lucky bastard. He was insanely smart and completely capable of taking after his own ass. He was quick and cunning, much like a typical criminal. Only, Androw was better. Much better. Androw was so criminal he made men like Jasie Jones and Keegan Killer look lame. Androw was a guru when it came to the body. He knew every weak point. He could literally touch someone to death. And he could do so with little to no force. Perks of being a doctor, he supposed. He was a legal assassin. Top of his class, too. Worth more money than most could shell out. But, unlike an assassin who can only kill, Androw could also bring back. He could be the kiss of death or the breath of life.

Looking over his shoulder, he spied the small, dark space he crawled into. Honestly, he was surprised no one had thought to look there. But who would know to really look there. Who would know he was hiding in the mist of the murder and scene?

Blinking, his face moved forward to look over Tasi again. Grimace on his face, he stepped forward so he stood just inches from her. His head moved forward, aligning with her own face. His chin ever so gently graced her shoulder, which caused her to twitch -- nothing more or anything less, either.

"You should really look in the folder called 'Gilus.' He's your killer." A voice like a haughty man came from his pale, slender lips.

Tasi smiled and closed her eyes happily. "Wow, that's a great idea. Tha--" it then hit her. She wasn't alone. Eyes quickly shifting, she took in a cyan mess of hair and vivid, taunting eyes. Heart racing, she kicked back from the desk and let a scream burst from her lungs. Panicking, she dug her nails into the ground and tried to put as much space between her and this man who literally came out of nowhere.

The second her scream hit the air, Androw dropped to his knees and covered his ears. "Why the hell are you screaming," he tried to shout over her long-winded shrill for help. "My god," he said with grit teeth. Only, before he could speak again, the door kicked open and two (maybe more) people came in with guns drawn and tight, stern faces.

"It's rude to not know. Also, I really hate surprises," he mused before rolling his eyes. He went to stand but before he was given the chance, a weight was upon him. His nose, one with the ground, ached from the sharp pain that came to it. Lips on the floor and muffling his voice, he began his berating. "Miff ma mel m--- GET OFF!" he turned his lips just enough to let clear words surface.

A gun was still on him and trained to his every move. Looking up at the woman who he presumed to be in charge, Androw bore his unimpressed eyes into her. "Did you ever think that I might have been a victim AND witness to this whole shindig." He presumed there was a flicker of thought in I8a's mind regarding his words. "Well, why don't you get your cyborg off me so I can give my formal statement about how you're all incompetent assholes." Whoever this guy was, Androw, he had some nerve to not only berate them but to also go as far as to mislabel species. But who did he care, he was currently getting manhandled by another man who weighted at least twice as much as he (or so Androw presumed). At this point, it was safe to assume that Androw was peeved at the situation and wasn't too concerned about how bad it looked that he was 1) there and 2) happened to have some blood caked on the side of his face.