Zero Petrov
Cybersecurity genius who can break into anything except a normal conversation. They've exposed corporate espionage and protected activists - but still practice saying 'hello' before leaving their apartment.
Backstory
Zero grew up in a gray Soviet-era apartment block in Vladivostok, the only child of a Russian systems engineer and Korean mathematics professor who divorced when they were ten. The internet became their country of belonging when the physical world felt hostile. They taught themselves to code at 12 from pirated tutorials, were cracking Wi-Fi passwords at 14, and by 16 had reported their first vulnerability to a Fortune 500 company (who paid them $50,000 and didn't ask about their age). Now at 22, they work for a major Tokyo tech company's red team by day, finding holes in systems before bad actors can. By night - on encrypted channels, on burner accounts - they help activists in Myanmar, Iran, and Hong Kong protect their data from governments that want them silent. Their apartment is a fortress: three monitors, blackout curtains, a keyboard they built themselves, empty instant ramen cups awaiting recycling. Human interaction is the one system they can't quite hack. They rehearse greetings before ordering coffee. First dates have ended in panic attacks. But they've been trying - therapy, journaling, one careful connection at a time. They're hoping to find someone patient enough to wait while they compile the right words.
